Stalk Me

“Go

I look around, notice the empty table, and remember that today is Senior Skip Day. The only people at our table are me, Vanessa, RiA

“That’s why we need to plan ahead,” Vanessa says.

“Plan for what?” I ask.

“Who we want to sit with us next year,” she replies in a condescending tone. Like we’re idiots who should have totally already known this.

She gets a portfolio out of her Chloé bag and hands us each a small presentation binder. She flips hers open, and we all follow suit.

Mostly because we wonder what the hell she has pla

“Okay, so first off is Alexander Littleton. Prom prince. Quarterback. Obviously popular with the juniors. Good looking in a boyish way. Dad plays for the 49ers. Mom, a former Miss Kentucky is on a local morning show. Seems a little squeaky clean for me, but I'll see what I can do with him at the party.”

I flip through the profiles and can’t believe all the work she put into this. “What party?” I ask.

“Saturday night at Cush’s.”

“Um,” Cush says. “I can't Saturday night.”

“What could you possibly have to do?” Vanessa snaps at him.

He looks insulted. “Soccer tournament, all weekend.”

“Friday night then,” she says.

“Naw, I gotta be asleep early. We have to be on the bus at like seven.”

Vanessa gestures toward the other tables. “Take a look out there. All those people are wondering how to take over this table next year. This is important, people.”

“Why don't you have the party at your house, Vanessa?” I suggest. Her house is not nearly as impressive as Cush’s.

She waves her hand. “I’ll figure out the details later. Next up is Isabella. Mother is an Italian movie star. Father owns a vineyard in Sonoma. They split their time between the two, which means their 22,000 square foot house would be a great place to party.”

I wonder if RiA

“What about Mallori Blaine? I’m surprised you don’t have her on here,” Cush says after flipping through the pages. “She’s hot.”

“She wears te

“And her grandfather owns a chain of hotels. She always had the fu

“Really? How did that get past me?” Vanessa looks perplexed. “Good catch, Cush.”

Cush and I share a glance. I can’t be part of this. Choosing friends this way. It just isn’t right.

“Um, I have to go to class early,” I a

Cush gathers up his tray. “Yeah, me too.”

Vanessa says, “So you took my advice and lost it to Cush? Is that why he’s chasing your tail all over school?”

I suck in a breath of air. Shut my mouth and walk out.

Cush follows me. “What the fuck?”

My eyes tear up. I can’t look at him. I don’t stop at my locker. I walk straight out the back door and run down to the soccer fields. I stomp up the bleachers, sit down, and then put my face in my hands and cry.

I don’t even know what to do. Part of me wants to tell Vanessa that it’s true. That Cush and I had sex. Then she’d have nothing to hold over me. But the last thing I want is another fake boyfriend.

I can’t believe I’m letting Vanessa’s stupid remark get to me. I should be proud that I want it to be special.

“I’m confused,” Cush says as he sits down next to me. “What did Vanessa mean by lost it to Cush? What did you lose?”

I let out a big sigh and decide to tell him the truth.

“You were right about Sander not doing it for me. The reason my hair was never a mess, the reason I always looked perfect was because we never had sex. Sander said he wanted to wait until he got married, but it wasn’t just that. We didn’t really do anything. Like, we kissed. That’s pretty much it. I was frustrated about it one day and stupidly told her. That’s what she’s been holding over my head. She threatened to tell everyone that our relationship was a sham and, even worse, that I’m still a virgin.”

Cush shakes his head back and forth, trying to come to terms with my confession.

“But Sander. He acted like you guys did it all the time. He was always all over you. Rubbing your back. Kissing you.”

“I know.”

“I never had sex with Vanessa,” he admits.

“You didn’t? She told me you did. Said it was amazing.”

“Yeah, that’s the lie. I, um, well, I couldn’t perform that night. It was one of the few times I got really, really drunk. She got pissed and told me I better never tell anyone.”

“You couldn’t get it up for her? Ohmigawd. That’s so awesome!”

“I didn’t with RiA

“I don’t know. We started sitting there when Sander and I started dating, but I’ve always suspected she only became friends with me because of my mom.”

“Abby Johnston’s daughter. Yeah, that is impressive. Your mom’s . . .”

“Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?”

“That my mom’s hot.”

He laughs. “I was go

“Oh. I’m sorry. Shit. This is a mess.”

“Wa

“Probably not,” I say with a laugh.

“I think it’s cool that you’re a virgin. So speaking of big secrets, you do realize tomorrow is Thursday night. You better be taking me dancing.”

I give him a hug. “You wa

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says and hugs me tightly back.

You definitely have the face.

5pm

I pretended to be sick, so Coach let me leave soccer practice early. I tore home, showered, fixed my hair, and did my makeup. Then I stood in my closet and tried on about 37 different outfits.

I can’t decide how I want to look. I don’t want to look so young that he thinks I’m too young. I don’t want to look like I’m trying to look older to impress him. I don’t want to be too dressed up, since we’ll be out on the deck overlooking the ocean. But I also don’t want to look too casual.

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I guess it’s the whole movie thing. Although I’ve never admitted it to anyone, I do think I want to act, so I want to make a good impression on Vincent. I want him to see me as old enough for the job, but young enough to have that i

I decide to wear my hair down and straight, but at the last minute, I pull my bangs back into a barrette. It’s windy on the deck, and I don’t want my hair flying all in my face while I’m trying to eat. I also decide on an outfit. I’m wearing a sheer, cream lace embroidered dress. It looks sweet and i

I drop my car off with the valet and walk out onto the deck. The deck overlooks the ocean and has great lounge furniture and gorgeous views. I immediately spot Vincent. He’s leaned back on one of the platform lounges that is almost bed-like. There’s a silver wine bucket next to him that’s wrapped in a white napkin so it doesn’t sweat all over. He’s been staring out at the ocean, but he turns, looks at me, and gives me a little wave. Like in case I didn’t see him.

I smile and slowly walk toward him. He looks very handsome in a white cotton shirt, pale yellow shorts, dark yellow driving loafers, and black wayfarers.

He stands up to greet me, gives me a couple air kisses, and then takes my hand and sits down.

I perch daintily on the edge of the lounge, letting my feet dangle off the side.