Stalk Me

Why the hell not?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being friends with Vanessa it’s that confidence and boldness are king. And it’s not like I can embarrass myself too badly. No one here knows me. And since I am now officially in charge of the script of my life, why not be bold and take a few risks?

There’s a butt-sized gap between the two boys. I’m going to walk up to them, point at the gap, and say, Is this seat taken?

Then I’m going to pray they don’t laugh at me.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask politely, boldly pointing at the sliver of seat between them.

They look at each other, slide apart, and the clone says, “All yours, darling.”

At first I think he’s making fun of my boots, but then he says, “Hey, I’m Dallas, and this here’s Riley,” in an unmistakable Southern drawl—the kind you only get from growing up in the South, not from working with an accent coach.

Because I’ve spent a lot of time in East Texas, both in my real and fake lives, I respond with, “Nice to meet y’all. I’m Keatyn.” And then I sit.

“Great boobs, uh, I mean boots,” a boy behind them says.

I laugh.

I’m not offended in the least.

It’s not like I’m some freshman virgin. I’m an experienced woman, and I think that makes me worldlier than all my travels have. Like, kinda.

I turn around and look at the offending boy. “Thanks, what’s your name?”

The boy looks embarrassed and ignores me.

Great! I’m off to a great start. I’m being ignored by a freshman boy. Twelve minutes into my time here, and I’m already a loser.

I ignore the boy and turn to Dallas. He looks sweet. And the way he sorta looks like Brooklyn makes me feel comfortable talking to him. “So, you don’t look like a freshman.”

“Me and Riley here are juniors, how about you?”

“I’m a junior too.”

The boys tell me they all met last week during football camp.

“So what are you go

“I’m not sure. You guys like to party? Or are you serious athletes?”

“I’d say we’re both,” gorgey dark Riley tells me. “And my brother is a senior, so I pretty much have the place wired.” His easy way reminds me of Cush.

“You’re a good guy to know, then. You can introduce me to your hot brother and all his friends.”

“How do you know my brother is hot?”

“Cuz you are,” I flirt. Why the hell not?

I’m single. You’re single. Let’s mingle.

Just because I’m not going to fall in love doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun. That was one thing I was always kind of jealous of RiA

I should add that to my list of things I want to do.

I want to kiss a lot of boys. I don’t want to be slutty, but it’s the first time I’ve been completely single. I should enjoy it. Is kissing a lot of boys considered part of working on me? I’ll have to ask Kym that, but I’m pretty sure it qualifies. It’s like self-improvement. Practice makes perfect and all that.

“Naw,” says Riley, “I think we’re go

“Uh, not to burst your bubble or anything, but I prefer older guys. I’ve never dated a guy my age.”

Just as the words leave my lips, it’s like I’m on a movie set, with a script in my hand about immature boys, and they’re all following along. A boy up front rips out a loud fart, and they all laugh.

“My point, exactly.”

“That dude may be immature,” Dallas tell me. “But we’re not. Notice he’s not sitting with us.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Riley asks, “So how come you’re not trying to meet some girls? I heard there’s a couple other new junior girls. You could find your new bff.”

“Notice how all the girls are trying to get as close to the front as they can? Trying to make a good impression?”

“Yeah,” both Riley and Dallas say.

“Why are you in the back?”

Dallas laughs. “Because we don’t give a shit about good impressions. We just wa

“I’m not into all that either. Plus it’s been my experience that guys are a lot easier to get along with. No drama.”

Riley raises his eyes at me. “We’ll get along just fine. You don’t need girls for your bffs anyway.” He throws his arm around my shoulder. “I’m your new bff, and I think I’ll be your new boyfriend.”

“Um, I kinda have a boyfriend.”

Shit. That sort of came out wrong. I don’t have a boyfriend. I tried to come up with an appropriate relationship status for me and Brooklyn on the plane. It’s more like friends with benefits. I thought about what he said about letting fate decide if we should be together, but I’m pretty sure I don’t believe in fate.

At least until some guy tells me he’s been talking to the moon.

“Not for long.” Riley says. “I promise, I’ll make you forget all about him.” He grins a very seductive grin at me.

“I highly doubt that.”

“Oh, you underestimate me,” he says, his eyes smoldering.

Eyes that make me know I'm not the only one who’s not a virgin. This boy is clearly not new to the game. And you know what? He might be right. I may have underestimated him.

Riley continues. “Plus, I can get us in all the good parties. My bro and I are tight.”

He and Dallas fist bump each other.

“Hell yeah, bro,” one of the boys from behind us says. Riley and Dallas roll their eyes at the freshman. I’m thinking he won’t be invited.

The headmaster, principal, dean, whatever they call him, gets up and starts welcoming us. He’s telling us a bunch of boring history about the school, and I’m really not all that interested. Plus, I already know it.

I turn to Riley. “You sure your brother feels that way?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“I mean, do you really think your older brother wants his baby bro tagging along with him?”

Dallas laughs. “SLAAAAMMMM.”

“You’re cute,” Riley tells me.

“Thanks, I think.”

“And my reputation clearly does not precede me.”

“You have a reputation? Ha! Did you make one up? You haven't been here long enough to get a reputation. I mean, unless you’re gay. You been hooking up with all the boys during football camp?”

“I’m not gay, and the boys have heard all about the Johnson brothers’ summer in the Hamptons.”

I hear a chorus of Hell yeah, You’re the man, Dude, and Bro, from the freshmen behind me. It’s obvious by their enthusiasm that Riley has shared way too much about his summer and they are in awe of him. Or what he did, more likely.

Dallas says lazily to Riley, “You are the man.”

I cough. “Bullshit.”

Riley laughs at me. “Just you wait and see. You can come play cowgirl with me anytime.”

“Save a horse; ride a cowboy, huh?”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

I laugh.

He’s fu

The dean guy is droning on about being special and chosen to go here and what an honor it is. And he may be going over rules. I’m still not listening. I’ve never been much of a rule follower. Well actually, I’ve never really had any rules to follow. I’ve never had a curfew. Really, my only real rule is that I have to wear a helmet if I ride rollerblades, skateboards, longboards, or Brooklyn’s motorcycle. But that’s about it.

Riley snaps his fingers. “I have a great idea. Keatyn is a boy’s name. Let’s dress you up like a boy. You can be my roommate by day, and then be my hot little plaything at night.”

I roll my eyes at him, like I’m so bored.

But I’m not.

I’m actually having fun, and I haven’t thought about the stalker in almost twenty minutes. So I give him some shit, like I used to give to Cush. I think he likes it. “Seriously?”

“Forgive him,” Dallas says. “He thinks all the girls want him. He’s been going on and on about all the hot girls that came to his brothers’ parties this summer that he slept with.”