Stalk Me

“I thought you had soccer practice.”

“Oh, yeah, um, I kinda skipped. We took a nap instead. I think I’m still jet lagged or something.”

“You know this whole stalker thing has us all on edge. You can’t just disappear like that.”

“I didn’t disappear. I was sleeping—whatever. I’m on my way back home now.”

I end the call.

“You in trouble? You never get in trouble.”

“That stalker guy sent Mom a letter the other day. Remember, before, I told you how he was pissed at her, told her she was going to pay?”

“Yeah, that’s why they added all the security for the girls.”

“Right. So, the other day she got a note in her purse. He said he was done with her. That he’d moved on and found someone new to love. Probably some hot new actress.”

“Sweet. That’s good, right?”

“James doesn’t seem to think so. He thinks it’s some kind of trick, so she’ll let her guard down.”

“James is pretty intense.”

“Grab your clothes and come home with me. No one will yell at me if you’re there.”

“Pick me something out.”

I run to his closet, grab a pair of faded Diesel jeans and a caramel James Perse T-shirt. “This work?”

“Yep. Don’t forget the Vans.”

“How about these instead?” I point to a pair of gorgeous Rag & Bone suede sneakers. “Have you even worn these yet? Did you buy them just because I liked them?”

He laughs. “Kinda. Bring ‘em. I suppose I shouldn’t go to di

I laugh too. “You can wear whatever you want, B. You can go in your board shorts. I wouldn’t care.”

“See I told you. You’re chill. I love that. But, nah. What are you wearing?”

We walk out of his house and down the beach.

“I have this adorable dress for tonight. It’s just summery, casual. But my dress for tomorrow night is downright sexy. And the shoes—oh, B, wait until you see the shoes. They have jewels on them and they’re to die for.”

“Sexy, huh? All your high school boys go

“I was kinda hoping it’d have you drooling.”

“I can always see it before you leave.”

My heart drops a little.

No.

It drops a lot.

He’s decided for sure that he’s not to coming to my party. Which makes me feel like he just pulled my heart out of my chest and stomped on it.

“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter. I don’t know what else to say.

Fake feelings.

8:30pm

Di

Everyone talks about the stalker situation, my party, Millie’s latest contract negotiations, the Lakers, the Morans’ baby girl, Damian’s tour, our summer in Europe, and Mom and Tommy’s new movie.

I get some great presents. A beautiful Louis Vuitton tote from the Morans: a gorgeous necklace from an up-and-coming designer friend of Kym’s, an entire box suite for a Lakers game from Millie and Deron, and a beautiful locket from James with my dad’s photo in it, which I immediately put on as I try not to cry.

My dad’s plane crash happened on August the twelfth, just before my ninth birthday. When I was blowing out the candles on my birthday cake a few days later, Mom told me the smoke trail you see after you blow out your candles is your guardian angel’s way of wishing you happy birthday and that Daddy was in heaven watching over me.

My phone buzzes with a text.

I’ve been bad about replying to texts lately. I didn’t really reply to anyone much this summer. After everything that happened, I just didn’t know what to say. I figured if someone had something that important to tell me then they could call me.

I did reply to the Happy Birthday texts and liked all the well wishes on Facebook, but I haven’t been chatting with anyone much since I’ve been home.

 But when I was getting ready for di

Things with Brooklyn have seemed sort of weird lately. I can’t put my finger on it, but I feel like I’m losing him. I don’t know if it’s because I’m hurt he’s not coming to my party, or if he’s actually been a little distant. Even when I was with him earlier today, it was like he said the right things but it sorta felt like he didn’t mean them.

I decide to reply to Vanessa’s last text with a lie.

Me:  Hey, sorry. I lost my phone.

 

Vanessa:  I thought you were ignoring me. I was thinking about not coming to your party.

Brooklyn grabs my phone. “No texting at di

“It’s after di

“You haven’t been ignoring me.”

“That’s true, but I have ignored her and RiA

“They’re just jealous, you know.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Of us. What we have is real. Everything those girls cherish is fake. They only care about appearances, not what’s real. Fake relationships. Fake feelings. They fake their way through life. If it weren’t for me, you might have become one of them.”

“I am one of them, whether I want to be or not. At least until I get out of school. And Vanessa’s been surprisingly nice recently.”

He looks at my phone. “She wasn’t going to come to your party because you haven’t texted her in two days. How is that a good friend?”

“I’ve had sex with you all summer, and you’re not coming to my party. What does that make you?” I snap back.

“Don’t turn this on me.”

“I just don’t think it’s fair of you to slam her for something she has no intention of doing. She’s threatening to not come because she’s mad that I’ve been ignoring her. She’ll be there. She flew to New York to buy a dress, and she has a hot date that she’s dying to show off. I’m going to my own party dateless.”

“So take a date. Ask one of your boy toys.”

I stare at him for a few beats. He doesn’t back down.

“Fine. I will.” I grab my phone out of his hand, scroll past Cush and straight to Sander. Brooklyn hates him. “You sure you don’t want to be my date?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay.” I hit Sander’s name, and my phone sends out the call.

Brooklyn says, “He’s an asshole.”

“Well, I thought about asking Cush, but since I slept with him, I thought that might be awkward.”

I know I’m being mean, but I’m hurt. I’m lashing out a little.

Brooklyn’s face turns to pissed just as Sander answers.

“How’s my favorite T-Bird?” I flirt.

Brooklyn wants to see the fake me, so be it.

“Great. Heard you’re having a big birthday bash tomorrow night,” Sander says. “Where’s my invite?”

“I figured you were busy filming. Any chance you could come, maybe be my date?”

“Thought you were into the surfer dude?”

I catch the surfer dude’s eye. “Yeah, I thought the surfer dude was into me too, but I was wrong.”

Brooklyn gets up and walks out the door. I swallow hard and try not to cry.

“Sweet. You go

“Hell yeah, I plan on making an entrance. It is my birthday. What do you say? Wa

“I say you’re fucking awesome.”

“Good. My house. 8:30.”

I text RiA

Me:  Did you find a date for the party?

Ri:  No :(