Stalk Me

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I always thought I was good at reading people. I was so wrong about him.”

“Don’t question your instincts. Tell me what you really thought.”

“Even though the things he said were about the movie, it kinda felt like he was trying to seduce me. His hand would accidentally brush against my knee when he filled the wine. He asked me when I’d be legal. He told me I have an expressive face and all about these things I do with my mouth, like how I bite my lip. He ran his thumb across my lip. After di

“Sociopaths are charming, Keatyn. People are naturally drawn to them, but they’re cold inside.”

I look at a photo of the girls on the coffee table. They’re all in rainbow tutus, except for Gracie. She’s in full-on princess garb. I remember the note in Avery’s backpack, and I instantly know what made him snap. “Mom became a whore,” I mutter.

Mom goes, “What?”

“The note that was in Avery’s backpack. He was pissed at you. You did those sex scenes and instead of being like the grandmother he idolized, you became a whore . . . like his mother. He hated his mother.”

“That’s very insightful, Keatyn. Now we’re getting somewhere,” Garrett says. “His grandmother, the woman he idolizes, dies. And the other woman he idolizes becomes a whore. That’s what did it. What sent him over the edge. Tell me the rest. Every time you had contact with him.”

I tell him everything.

Garrett looks very somber when he says, “Keatyn, Abby, this isn’t going to stop.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to have to send Keatyn away for a while. She can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’re getting ready to go to Vancouver to shoot a movie,” Mom says. “She’ll come with us.”

“Abby, this has gone beyond your typical obsessed fan. The pictures, his following her, and breaking into the house a few doors down in a private, gated community all suggest that this has become a game to him. He managed to work his way into her life. Vancouver isn’t the answer. This is very serious, and I think it would be best for the whole family if you split up for the time being.”

Mom gets a fierce look on her face, like a lion protecting her young. “We’re not sending her anywhere. She’ll stay with us.”

“I was thinking of something like witness protection. We can change her name and she can go away until he finds someone else to obsess over, or until we can catch him.”

“Change my name? Move away? What happened to I’m not going to allow myself to be victimized. Isn’t that what you always say, Mom?”

“This is different, Keatyn, because you almost were a victim,” Garrett says bluntly.

That knocks out what little wind I had left in my sails.

Garrett continues. “Look, he’s obsessed about your mom for years. He got mad at her over the nude scenes and switched his focus to you. I think if he can’t find you or see you, he’ll find someone new to focus on. Worst case scenario, you go away for six months, maybe a year.”

“A year! Are you nuts!?” But then my eyes dance across the photo of the girls, and I know they won’t be safe if I’m with them.

Mom sucks in a loud breath. I can tell she’s getting ready to protest.

“No. He’s right. You’ve got to think about the girls, Mom. I want them to be safe.”

“What if she went to live with her grandfather in Texas?” Mom asks.

“Too easy to trace,” James says.

“What about France? She could live in our house there? Go to school? He didn’t try anything this summer when she was gone.”

“He knows about France,” I say, just as James says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”

Damian speaks up. “What about boarding school?” He turns to his dad. “The school where Trent’s older brother went. Aren’t you friends with the dean?”

“Son, you're brilliant,” Mr. Moran says. “It's perfect. Highly secure. The Secretary of State’s kids went there a few years ago, so the Secret Service installed fencing around the perimeter. There’s a guard booth, single access entry, and perimeter cameras.”

“It sounds like a prison,” I mutter.

“It was designed to keep terrorists out. Inside, you can't tell. It's a beautiful campus. The dean was in a bind a few years ago that I helped him out of. It's very difficult to get accepted, but I'm sure he'd make an exception. He owes me.”

Garrett turns to Mr. Moran. “I’d like to hear more about this school. That might be our best solution. It could allow her some semblance of normalcy while still keeping her safe.”

Brooklyn, who has been sitting quietly, finally speaks up. “Boarding school won't be so bad, Keats. I haven’t told you yet.” He sighs. “I didn't want to tell you until after your birthday, but I leave next week.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Is that why he wouldn’t commit all summer long? He pla

I can't breathe again.

I barely get out the words. “When were you going to tell me? After you'd left?”

I run into my room, slam my door, sit on my bed, and cry.

Cry over Brooklyn, the boy I thought I was so in love with. The boy I spent all summer with thinking we were in love. I cry again for being so stupid about Vincent. I open my eyes and see another photo of my little sisters. In this one they are all dressed as princesses.

I cry some more.

Go to boarding school, the voice from the club tells me. You’ll be safe. They’ll all be safe.

I can't put them in danger. I'd die before I'd let anything happen to those i

I think about how Vincent picked me up.

How he touched this dress.

How he touched my skin.

I run in my bathroom, turn on my shower, and stand under the hot water.

Then I realize I’m still wearing my party dress.

 I rip it off, throw it to the ground, and drench my body in soap.

And then I scrub my skin until it feels like it might fall off.

When the hot water runs out, I grab a towel and dry myself off.

I walk back into my room, take a deep breath, and pull myself together.

I see the boots Cush gave me lying on my desk, so I pull them on my feet.

These boots are the new me.

The me that can handle anything.

The me that is in charge of my life and isn’t going to let people tell me what to do anymore.

I grab a pair of jean shorts and the soccer shirt I was going to give back to Cush and pull them on. I'm cleaning up the mess that is my face when Brooklyn walks in.

“You don't have to explain,” I say icily. “I get it. You need to do what's right for you, and so do I.”

“That’s it? That’s all you're go

“Yeah. It’s all I can say. I encouraged you. Although,” I add snidely, “for someone who wants me to avoid the spotlight, I find it fu

“I’m not doing it for the money, the fame, or the spotlight. I'm doing it for me.”

“And I'm going to boarding school, but I'm not doing it for me. I'm doing it for them.” I point to the picture of the girls.

Brooklyn nods his head, gets tears in his eyes, and pulls me into a hug.

I hold my shoulders stiffly. I don't want to let him in.

“Keats, this is not the way I wanted this to go down. I had an amazing summer with you. The best summer of my life.”

“Is that why you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend? Because you didn't want to have to break up with me? Because you’ve been pla

“You’ve been my girlfriend all summer, Keats. I thought when I told you I loved you that you knew that. And I didn’t plan it all summer. I mentioned it to my dad, and he got the sponsors all set up. He told me when we were in London that he thought it might all pan out, but I didn’t know for sure until we got home. I didn't tell you, because I didn’t want to ruin your birthday.”