I practically skip to the auditorium. I'm so excited.

I see Jake and Peyton ahead of me. They appear to be having a heated discussion. He walks through the auditorium doors and leaves Peyton outside.

She looks upset. "Are you okay?"

She takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Jake isn't going to say anything, but I'm pretty sure he already told Bryce. Whitney cannot find out."

"Congrats on Court. I meant to tell you earlier, but you were reveling in the freedom of throwing away your shoes.”

She brightens. “That felt really good. And you too. I’m so happy for you."

"What's the deal with wearing a formal dress on a football field? That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"Really? It seems normal to me. So I saw Maggie and Katie earlier. They said you all are going to New York to shop this weekend. Do you think I could come with you? Is that bad? My totally inviting myself."

"We'd love it! I would’ve asked you. I just figured you already had a dress."

"Whitney has had her dress for months. She's been planning for the perfect dress since she started dating Dawson."

"Do you have one?"

"I do, but she helped me pick it out." She scowls. "I don't love it."

I give her a grin. "You're going to win, so you need to be in a dress that you love."

She bounces a little. "Wouldn't that be amazing?"

I glance at my watch. "Hey, I gotta get in there."

"Break a leg.” She looks at me sincerely and says, "Thanks for letting me come with you."

"You're welcome. Um, do you want to invite Whitney? I felt bad when she left me out, I don't want to make her feel that way."

"Hell, no," she says and marches off.

"Keatyn Monroe," the drama coach says, calling my name off a list in his hand.

It’s time! I was a little nervous while I was standing here waiting for my turn, but as I walk across the stage, it’s gone.

I’m ready.

I have my lines memorized.

The accent down.

I know how I want to portray the character physically.

I've even dressed the part in a sweet but flirty skirt and cowboy boots.

I recite my lines and forget about everything else.

After my tryout, I step slowly off the stage. I know I have to let the next person audition, but I'm not ready to leave. I could stay up here all night.

Dance. Talk. Pretend to be someone else.

I don't want to leave.

I send Dawson a quick text, telling him I'll meet him later, and work my way through the seats to the darkened back of the auditorium.

I'm surprised to find Aiden sitting right where I was headed. "Are you trying out?" I whisper as I take a seat next to him.

"No, I watched Logan and Nick try out earlier. They had to get to the JV game. I decided to stay and watch for a while."

"Shouldn't you be there too?”

"Cole was the starting receiver and he got hurt, so I’m filling in for him and will only be playing Varsity for a while.”

"That's exciting. Congrats."

He cocks his head at me. "So just who was that up there?"

"What do you mean?" My heart sinks. "Oh my gosh, did I suck?"

He smiles gently and shakes his head. "No, you didn't suck. It was like watching a different person. The accent. The way you flipped your hair."

He knows how I flip my hair?

He continues. "And you put your hand on your hip when she was being sassy. You only do that in real life when you're mad. You even held your jaw differently. Like, not as tight as usual and your face looked softer. Sweeter, maybe."

I break out in a grin. "That's because she's not a bitch like I am."

"You're not a bitch."

"No? But I can play one." I straighten my back. Tilt my chin and look down on him. Roll my shoulders slightly forward in a model pose. Get a defiant look in my eye.

"Damn, you haven't even said anything yet, and I'm already scared," he says with an adorable laugh. He studies my face for a minute. "You know, you have a very expressive face."

My mind flashes to Vincent saying those same words. I remember thinking it was sweet that he noticed. Of course, that was before he tried to kidnap me.

"Thank you," I say to Aiden.

"You belong up there. On stage. You made it look completely effortless, like you’re a natural."

My heart aches to tell him that I should be a natural at it, having an actress for a mom and a model for a dad. I think about my dad. How he always used to tell me to think of something happy and then would snap a photo. How we would pose for silly pictures. How he could think about something sad and look like a different person.

I nod my head and whisper the words I've been afraid to admit to anyone. "I think it's what I want to do. Like, for a living. Like, if I'm good enough."

"If I didn't need you here to tutor me, I'd suggest you quit school, go to Hollywood, and start auditioning. I'm serious, Keatyn."

My heart skips a beat. He just called me Keatyn.

God, my name sounds beautiful on his tongue.

I get all flush and flustered. Why do I still get that way around him? I kicked the Aiden addiction.

"Um, uh, thanks," I stammer. "But I think I need some practice first. Some classes, maybe."

"Well, I know you'll get the part."

"You can't know that. I was the first one to audition for it.”

"Why did you pick that role and not the lead?"

"I like how she affects the story, I guess. I like how she has to follow her heart and how she finds true love. How even though the Bad Prince tries to keep her and the Good Prince apart, their love prevails.”

Aiden lets out a deep, sexy growl. The kind of growl that makes a girl want to rip off her panties.

Not me, of course. I’m just saying most girls. Well, some girls would, maybe.

I think.

“I always knew you were a romantic at heart,” he says.

For the first time tonight, I start to sweat. I move my arms out wide on the armrests to give my pits some air to breathe.

No. I will not do it.

I will not talk to the hottie god about true love or romance.

I will change the subject.

"I've heard it's hard to be an actress. Dealing with the paparazzi. The filming locations. Kissing your cast mates. I can see why Dawson is having a hard time with it."

Aiden leans closer to me and puts his big hand on top of my knee.

It's a casual gesture, leaning in toward me, his hand on my knee for balance. "Dawson should be here supporting you. And if he had come, he'd know. It's not you up there."

Electrical shivers shoot up my leg.

And my knee is such a slut!

She likes it! She’s that friend you have. The one who you tell you’re on a diet and the next day she shows up with cupcakes and says, Aww, just one won’t hurt.

But when I look down at my knee, I realize that she’s not only a slut, she’s an enabler. She’s all, Look at your knee. How small it looks under his big hand. How safe it feels.

God, I hate my knee.

And Aiden is talking to me. Something about a premiere and a red carpet. But I don’t really catch all he’s saying.

Because. His. Hand. Is. On. My. Knee.

"You'll walk the red carpet with me?" I ask unbelievably. Is that what he said?

It's dark back here, but I instantly see a flash of brilliant white teeth.

"I said I'd watch you walk it, but if you're offering . . ."

“Oh. I, um, just, you know, a hot guy in a black suit is, um, well, it’s like the ultimate accessory."