Stalk Me

“Happy Birthday to you,” he starts singing.

I look out into the crowd and see Cush. He’s standing by a bunch of friends from school and singing loudly. Vanessa and RiA

Then I look toward the back and see that Brooklyn is still sitting down and still talking to his friends. None of them are singing.

I smile and wave at the crowd. What can I say, Brooklyn? I do like the spotlight.

After everyone sings, Tommy and Mom come up on stage.

“Everyone having a good time?” Tommy yells.

Everyone yells back. “Hell, yeah!”

“Good deal. Well, before we let Damian and the boys do their thing, we have a little surprise for the birthday girl. If you’ll all back up, we’ll bring her in.”

I hear the sound of a motor revving, and then a bright silver Mercedes SLS AMG Roadster rolls out onto the dance floor. It might just be more gorgeous than the earrings.

I give Mom and Tommy huge hugs, and then they herd me down to sit inside the convertible.

I’m in total shock.

I never asked for a car, but I did see a car like this in a magazine that Tommy had, and I remember telling him it was the most beautiful car I had ever seen.

Brooklyn will hate this car. It screams conspicuous consumption, but I don’t care. Tommy and Mom got it for me because they wanted to give me a gift they knew I would love.

And I love it.

The car gets moved out, the cake is served, and Twisted Dreams plays a long set.

I pull Cush close and dance with him.

And I can’t seem to stop kissing him. I almost wish I weren’t having an after-party, so I could do nothing but kiss him for the rest of the night.

Shit. The after-party.

Brooklyn there.

Cush there.

Surfers.

My friends from school.

What was I thinking?

I give Cush a long kiss then say, “Hey, I need to go talk to someone. I’ll be right back.”

I wander back over to Brooklyn’s spot and am surprised to find he’s the only one sitting there.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “Some girls asked them to dance. They’re out there somewhere.”

Which really makes me smile. They are getting along.

“Why didn’t you join them?”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“Oh.”

“So this is some party, huh? The car, the food, the bands. Do you have any idea how many starving kids you could have fed with the money spent tonight?”

“No, I don’t,” I say angrily. “And Mom and Tommy give a lot of money to charity. And when I have my own money, I will too. But there’s nothing wrong with enjoying some of it yourself. I haven’t seen you sending the money you spend on weed or all your expensive surfboards off anywhere.”

He shakes his head at me. “Look, about everything. I know . . . ”

All of a sudden someone rushes past us.

Then a couple more people.

Then someone bumps into me and almost knocks me down.

Black-suited, sunglass-wearing security guards rush by in droves.

Brooklyn gets off the couch, and we both look in the same direction to try and figure out what’s going on.

“Someone probably just crashed the party or got drunk or something. There’s plenty of security here. They’ll get it all sorted out,” I tell him.

But then I think about Mom’s stalker. About how worried James has been about the party. How he promised to keep her safe.

I panic.

Oh my God, I’ve got to find Mom.

“Brook—” I start to say, but I’m interrupted when one of the security guys practically picks me up off the ground and carries me away from Brooklyn.

The security guy yells at me. “We’re getting you out of here now!”

“Why?” I pull back. I look for Brooklyn, but he’s lost in the crowd behind me.

The security guy drags me to the other side of the dance floor, opposite the commotion, near where I made out with Cush.

I’m scared, but I don’t want to leave. Where is Tommy? Where is Mom? And why do they have to get me out of my own party? What’s happened to Mom?

Everyone is heading toward the commotion. The area he’s dragging me to is almost completely empty.

“Stop it!” I yell. “I need to go check on my mom! Is she okay? Tell me what’s going on!”

The security guy stops moving and wraps a strong arm tightly around my waist.

“The whore is fine. I told her I was moving on. Bet she never guessed it was with you.” He lets out an evil chuckle.

Oh my god!

He’s not security.

James was right! It’s the guy!

The stalker!

“Let go of me!” I struggle to get away from him, but he’s still dragging me like a rag doll toward the exit.

“I’ve got a van out back. We’re going to do great things together.”

How do I know that voice? Why does it sound familiar?

Wait. He’s taking me to a van out back?

What. The. Fuck.

I scream bloody murder. “AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But no one can hear me.

Except the stalker.

“Stop screaming. No one can hear you over the music,” he says coldly.

I realize he’s right. I don’t stand a chance. No one can hear me.

Something I see out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

It’s the stalker’s arm.

I see the end of a scrolly tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve.

I know that tattoo. How do I know that tattoo?

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

It’s the Y on Vincent’s Abby tattoo.

It’s Vincent.

Vincent’s tattoo.

Vincent’s voice.

Vincent, who thinks I look just like my mom did when he fell in love with her. Vincent, who wants to make a movie with me. Mom’s movie.

Vincent is the stalker?

Could that be right?

I wriggle myself around so that I’m facing him.

“Vincent! What are you doing? Stop it! Let go of me!”

I make my body go limp, so that it will be heaver, and I drag my feet behind me. But he’s strong, and all that happens is that I lose one of my gorgeous shoes.

He says coldly, “Don’t act so surprised. I told you the other day I was going to get you locked in. We’re going to make a movie together and have all sorts of fun. I know you want it as much as I do.”

I start to shake as I think about all the things he told me. All the things that felt flattering. I see them in a new light. And in that light, they are not pretty. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

The music is still playing loudly.

There’s no one to save me. No one to help me.

Tears start streaming down my face.

What am I going to do?

The locket James gave me swings in front of my face, and I hear a quiet voice speak to me.

A voice that I haven’t heard for so long.

My dad’s voice.

It’s both soothing and serious.

You can’t let him get you out the door. Whatever you do, don’t let him get you out the door.

Vincent grabs my wrist tighter and pulls me in closer to his body. Like he’s shielding me from what’s behind us.

The door keeps getting closer.

You don’t have much time. 

I have to get him to stop.

“Stop. Please, Vincent. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. I promise I’ll make the movie with you. Just please don’t do this. Please.”

He doesn’t stop.

And he doesn’t reply.

He just keeps dragging me, closer and closer to the door.

When we’re almost to the door, he says, “I want you, and I’m going to have you. All to myself.”

We’re right in front of the big black exit door.

He stops to push it open.

This is your last chance. Remember P.E.? The defensive move they taught you. 

Use it. 

Do it now.

A rush of adrenaline suddenly courses through my body. I pick my foot up then smash the heel of the shoe I’m still wearing into the top of Vincent’s foot with as much force as I can muster.