Stalk Me

Millie says, “I know, she could be a scholarship student. A ritzy school like that, everyone would avoid her like the plague. No one would guess she’s your daughter.”

I try to keep my mouth shut, but I can’t.

I keep my head glued to the fridge, but say, “Millie! I’m not pretending to be a scholarship student. Kym is in New York styling my uniforms as we speak!”

Mom says, “I still don’t understand how we’re going to get you money. James, how are we going to take care of her financially, if we can’t give her any money for fear of having it tracked?”

“The less you know, the better, Abby. But we’ve got it all worked out,” James replies. He walks behind me, stares into the fridge, then whispers, “How about we order some of your favorite Chinese? You haven’t eaten anything for days.”

I turn around and hug him tightly. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, especially for letting me wear my locket. I trust Garrett. He seems to know his stuff. I just want you to know that I listened to everything he taught me today. Do Mom and Tommy not know about the trust fund?”

“Your mom was pretty freaked out about the whole emancipation thing, so Garrett was a little hazy on his explanation. You’ll get all the paperwork and account information tomorrow on the plane, so if you want to tell them the value of it, you can do it then.”

“Do you think it will it be enough? Pay for school, buy a car and gas and insurance and stuff, maybe get pedicures once in a while?”

James chuckles. “Yeah, I think it will cover that.”

“Hey, wait a minute. So you know all the details?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re chicken to tell her, aren’t you?”

He laughs. “Actually, I am. Garrett has the privilege of explaining it all to your mother. So I’ll call Wong’s and place an order,” he nods his head at the kitchen table, “and you go take control of your fake life.”

As I sit down, Mom says, “How about you’re an orphan, but your parents had some life insurance money, and your executor didn’t want to deal with you, so he sent you to boarding school?”

“No,” I say. “Come up with something cool.”

“You got kicked out of your last school, and you’ve been in rehab?” Tommy asks. “Isn’t rehab kinda cool these days?”

“Definitely no rehab. That would mean I couldn’t party. But maybe I got kicked out of my last school. Can I get kicked out for something cool? I could pretend to be a bad-ass trouble maker!”

“What would be cool?” Millie asks.

Mom says emphatically, “No, on the bad girl. No getting kicked out of school. I don’t want you to start there with a bad reputation.”

“Oh, I know!” Millie says excitedly. “How about you got pregnant, had a baby, and your parents made you give it up?”

“Millie, this is not your prime time soap opera. Next are you going to suggest I killed my mom because of it and buried her body in the backyard?”

Millie laughs. “That was a storyline on my show, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was. I need to be normal. And do I look like I just had a baby? Do I want boys to think I’m easy? Is that what you want? Tommy? Mom?”

Mom mutters, “No. This is harder than I thought it would be.”

Mr. Moran states. “You want close to the truth. We could go closer to the truth. Your father died in a plane crash . . .”

I stand up, knocking my Red Bull all over the table. “Don’t even say that! You guys suck. I’ll make up my own backstory. You’re all freaking fired.”

My fake lives.

7:30pm

I run out the door, down to the beach, and drop myself into the sand. Three of the security guys, including James, are on my heels.

“You know you aren’t allowed out here by yourself,” James yells at me.

“I’m pretty sure since you’re all following me, I’m not by myself.”

He drops into the sand next to me. “I can’t imagine having to deal with all this at your age. I know they treat you like an adult, but you’re still a kid, and I’m sure it’s scary.”

“I feel like I was cast in some bad horror movie. It seems like it can’t possibly be real.”

“Don’t let yourself think that for one second. No matter what you do from now on, this always has to be in the back of your mind. It has to influence everything you tell people, every decision you make. Got it?”

I sigh because I know he’s right. “I’ve got it. So do you have any ideas for my backstory?”

“I agree with keeping it close to the truth and keeping it simple. You’ve traveled the world with your mom and stepdad and were tutored. You recently lived in L.A. Your parents decided to move, you didn’t want to go with, so they shipped you off to boarding school. Or maybe you decided to go on your own because you didn’t want to go with them. Depends on whether or not you wa

“I like that. They moved to France. I didn’t want to go with. It’s simple, and I can be me, just without my famous parents.” I laugh. “And we don’t have to kill anyone off.”

“Everyone is really upset, Keatyn. They’re trying not to show it.”

“I know.” I swallow hard. “I’m pretty upset myself, and I feel really bad about Cush. What if you went and talked to him? What if I sent him a letter?”

“What would I tell him?”

“I don’t know. That I’m sorry. That I won’t be at school with him this year. That I’m sorry I told him I loved him and then just ditched him.”

“You told him you loved him? When was that? I thought you loved Brook?”

“I did. I do. I don’t know.”

“It’s been almost a week already. I’m sure he’s figured out you’re not calling.”

“I know you’re right. I just feel really bad.”

“You’d feel worse if he started posting on Facebook that he knew you were okay. If he told friends that he’d heard from you, and Vincent went after him. Keep him safe and in the dark. Also, Brook texted me and wanted to know if he could see you tonight. I ordered enough food for an army. Why don’t we have him come down?”

“Okay.” I get up, look around at the beach, and see the couple that lives a few houses down. I watch the guy take off his shirt and images of Vincent come flashing back. Of him taking off his shirt, of him grabbing my wrist with his strong hand. “I, um, I need to go back inside now. I kinda feel sick.”

“Keatyn, look at me. What’s wrong?”

My breathing gets heavy, my hands start to shake, and I feel like I’m going to cry, or puke. I can’t decide.

In between deep breaths, I say, “It’s just the first time I’ve been out here. I was fine when I was looking at the ocean, but then that guy took off his shirt. It reminded me.”

James grabs my arm. “Let’s get you back inside.”

Brooklyn showed up about the time the food did. The Chinese restaurant we ordered from is his favorite too and he ate a lot, his appetite obviously not hindered in any way. I pick at the sweet and spicy chicken, rice, and lettuce wraps that I put on my plate. I push the food around a little to make it look like I ate more than I did. What little appetite I had got ruined on the beach.

“You need to eat,” he says.

I pick up a couple grains of rice and put them in my mouth. “I am eating.”

Brooklyn grabs our plates and takes off toward my bedroom. “Come on.”

I follow him for lack of a better plan.

He sets our plates on my bed and motions for me to sit. We sit cross-legged on my bed like we’ve done so many times before. Brooklyn smiles at me, stabs a piece of chicken with his fork, and holds it up to my mouth, so I take a bite. Then he loads up the fork with rice and holds it up to my mouth. I try to eat it, but I bump the fork and the rice goes scattering back down on our plates.

We both start laughing.

“I should probably feed myself. So are you all packed and ready to go? Are you nervous?”

“Yeah, a little. At least we went there this summer, and I feel like I know my way around a little. That should help.” He stops talking and touches my face. “I had an amazing summer, Keats. I know things are really messed up with us, but I meant everything I said. I love you. I probably always will.”