Stalk Me

“Show me.” He slides his phone into his pocket and holds up his hands the way Tommy’s trainer does.

I punch them gently.

“Come on, you’ve got to have more than that.”

“Maybe I don’t want to hurt you,” I tease. He grabs my wrist. His grip is quite strong. “Wow, you’re stronger than you look.”

He looks hurt. “I don’t look strong? Wow, way to punch a guy’s ego.”

“Well it’s hard to tell with that loose T-shirt on. You know, guys your age can take their shirts off and be all flabby, or they can be all ab-a-licious . . . ”

Vincent pulls his shirt up over his head.

OMFG!!

My mouth falls open as I stare at his perfectly sculpted chest, his strong pecs, his thick ab muscles, and that sexy little line of dark hair trailing down into his swimsuit.

“What?” he says with a laugh.

I manage to close my mouth. “I’m guessing you work out a bit?”

He tilts his head and grins. “You could say that. So, back to our video. Do some cartwheels or dance for me. No, I know. Blow me a kiss. Do it your way.”

I think about it.

I turn my back on him and prance into the ocean. I reach down, grab a handful of water, and then swivel my upper body back toward him, naughtily tossing the water out of my hand as I blow him the sweetest kiss.

“That’s perfect,” he says. “Sweet, but naughty. Exactly how we want your character to be. So I take it you’d rather have people looking at your ass on a poster than your boobs?”

“Uh, I never thought of that. I was just playing around.”

He replays the video, studying it intently.

Eventually he says, “The camera loves you. Meet me at my studio tomorrow.”

“I can’t. Today I have birthday stuff, tomorrow too, then Saturday is my big birthday party.”

“Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t—um—do you want to come? I could get your name on the list.”

“Of course I want to come.”

I see Brooklyn wandering down the beach toward us.

“What’s up?” Brooklyn says to Vincent.

“Just telling Keatyn that getting the house has been tougher than I thought it would be. So, I was looking at surfboards the other day and felt a little overwhelmed. Do you have any suggestions?”

Brooklyn says, “Go to Davey’s, tell him I sent you, and tell him to fit you for a board. It’ll be perfect for you. The guy’s a genius.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks. So good to see you both, but I have to get going.”

“I saw you doing cartwheels all the way down the beach earlier. What’s gotten into you?” Brooklyn asks me as Vincent strolls off.

I jump into his arms and kiss him. “It’s my birthday, and I’m happy, and I’m in love with this amazing guy.”

“Happy Birthday, Keats. Was I the first one to tell you?”

“You were, but I’m still kinda mad you wouldn’t come see me.”

“Tommy would probably kick my ass if he found me in your bed.”

“B, we spent the summer together. They know we sleep together.”

Not that we have lately. Does jet lag really affect a boy that much?

He runs a couple lazy kisses up my neck. “Did the munchkins run in your room this morning and tell their Kiki happy birthday at the crack of dawn?”

I laugh because they did. “Yeah, they did. Six a.m. All piled on my bed and yelled, Happy Birfday, Kiki! They threw homemade birthday cards and confetti at me. It was adorable.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t. Come on, let’s get out there.”

We grab our boards and paddle away from shore.

I love everything today. I love being out in the water. I love the way the waves feel under my board. I love how the sun feels warm on my head. I love how I feel both confident and scared to death when I ride a wave back into shore.

As I watch Brooklyn catch a wave, I think about our relationship. I didn’t care that much about labeling it before, but now that everyone keeps asking what our status is, I’m starting to want to know too.

He paddles next to me, leans over the side of his board, and kisses me.

“I can’t wait to give you your present tonight.”

“Just what do you have pla

“It’s a surprise,” he yells as he paddles off again.

Friday, August 19th

Calm, easy, chillness.

11:20am

I’m sitting at the kitchen island eating a bowl of cereal even though it’s almost noon. I’m alternately thinking about Brooklyn and my upcoming parties.

Mom and Tommy walk in talking. “I didn’t think we’d ever get them all down for their nap.”

Mom sits down at the bar next to me and Tommy spreads a script out across the kitchen table.

Mom interrupts my thoughts—or reads my mind; I’m not sure which. “So, are you excited for your di

“I’m totally excited for the party.”

Then she gets to what she’s really dying to know.

“So . . . how was your night with Brook last night? James told me you didn’t come in until eight this morning.”

“It was good,” I say dreamily. “And yeah, we watched the sunrise.”

“So what else happened? I thought he had some special birthday night pla

“We just hung out, you know. Brooklyn isn’t into big productions.”

“I thought maybe he was going to ask you out or give you a ring or something.”

“A ring? Mom, I’m seventeen! I’m not really ready to be engaged.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just wondered where your relationship stands. Kym’s been watching your Facebook status like a hawk.”

I frown and wonder how she always knows what’s on my mind. “Everyone keeps asking me that, and I don’t have an answer.” I run my hand across my eyebrow. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you? It’s obvious you love him.”

“I am in love with him, Mom. And he’s told me a million times this summer that he loves me. That I appreciate his love of waves, weed, and Indie rock bands. But we’re not in a relationship. He could be seeing other girls right now! And this summer was amazing when we were on the beach. We got along great, but when we were with the band, it’s like every little thing I did bothered him. I mean, can I really expect to have a long-term relationship with a guy who doesn’t understand why when you’re in Italy, you have to buy leather?”

Mom reaches out and puts her hand on top of mine. “I love the handbag you brought me back. It’s gorgeous. So classic.”

“See! You understand.” I turn and look at Tommy. “Tommy, what did you think of the shoes I brought you? Like, really?”

“They’re awesome. I love how soft the leather is, and they’ll never go out of style.”

I slide off the barstool and give Tommy a hug.

“I need a man like you, Tommy. A man who appreciates fine leather.”

Tommy pats my arm. “What does Brook have against shoes?”

“It’s not just shoes. You know how when you look nice when you travel and carry nice luggage people treat you differently than when you’re schlepping around in sweats?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says.

“Brooklyn thinks it’s stupid.”

“Well, everyone has their own opinions, baby. You’re not always going to agree on everything.”

“Do you and Mom ever fight? Does she do stuff that bothers you?”

“She drives me nuts,” he says with a grin towards Mom. “I’m teasing. We really don’t fight. We don’t always agree, but we respect one another’s opinion.”

“We fought a lot at the end of the trip.”

“Well, traveling can be stressful.”

“I know, he was stressed. But if he loved me, wouldn’t he want me to be his girlfriend? Especially since he’s leaving me.”

“Leaving you?” Mom says.

“Yeah, he loved surfing all over so much that he’s going on the pro tour. He’s going to leave me. For like a year! Wouldn’t you think he’d want me to be his girlfriend so I wouldn’t be able to date other guys while he’s gone?”