Stalk Me

Can’t live without me. Can’t breathe when I’m around. He kisses me hard, pushes me onto the bed, and does all the other stuff they talk about. And it’s not just the sex that I want.

I want it all.

A hot guy; one who’s sweet and sexy at the same time. One who wants me so badly he can barely control himself. One who stands up for what he believes in.

One who wouldn’t care what his friends thought.

And, maybe, one who’s been staring at the moon, too.

Saturday, May 14th

You’re single. I’m single.

8:25am

I wake up feeling determined, so I call RiA

Been there. Seen it. Burned the t-shirt.

“Have you talked to Vanessa this morning?” she asks me.

“No, have you?”

“Yeah, and girlfriend, trust me, you don’t want to. She’s super hungover and is being The. Biggest. Bitch. Ever. I called and asked if she wanted get a smoothie, and she about bit my head off.”

“Last night she offered to sleep with Sander.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. He’s about the only boy left at school that she hasn’t slept with.” She laughs. “Like, I’m not calling her a slut or anything; it’s just a fact.”

“I know what you mean. If I tell you something, promise not to tell her?”

“Last night she told me that my roots were showing and that she thought she saw cellulite on my thigh. I don’t even know why I called her. I have an emergency root touch up with Leonardo this morning and then I’m going to yell at my trainer. As hard as that man works me, there shouldn’t be an ounce of fat on me.”

“RiA

“You’re right. I should’ve told her what I thought of her dress. She should not be wearing horizontal lines on those hips of hers.” She giggles then says, “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“I won’t. Pinky swear,” I say, making the ultimate promise. “I’m going to break up with Sander.”

“Why would you do that? You can’t do any better than Sander.”

I’m not sure if that was a compliment or a backhanded slam.

I sigh and go with it. “I know. I think maybe I just need a break. You’ve dated a ton of guys. I’ve really only dated one. Speaking of which? What happened last night?”

“You know, same as everyone. He took me to the hotel, expected sex, got it, then brought me home early this morning. What about you and Sander? I’m surprised you’re still not getting it on. You’re so lucky. He’s sexy, and he adores you. Everyone will just die if you break up. You’re the perfect couple.”

“Just because we seem like the perfect couple doesn’t mean we are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure if I’m in love with him.”

“Oh.” She is quiet for a minute. “Can you make sure it’s a friendly breakup? We want to still be able to sit at our lunch table.”

And there you have it. Another example of why I wonder if my friends are real, and if being popular is all it’s cracked up to be.

I throw myself dramatically across my bed and stare out at the ocean. I think about what Brooklyn said last night. His words, You’re very desirable, keep ru

I decide to do it. I call Sander.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?”

“Um, Sander, I think we should talk.”

“Why does it sound like you’re about to break up with me?”

“Because I am thinking about it. You know I adore you, but we’ve dated for so long. I was thinking maybe we should consider taking a break. What do you think?”

“Is there someone else you want to date?”

“I don’t know. I really haven’t dated anyone but you. You’re amazing, and you’ve been the perfect boyfriend. I heard Vanessa hitting on you at the party. Don’t you sometimes want to date other people?”

“No way would I date that skank. I really don’t know why you’re friends with her. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“I got the part.”

“Of Da

“Well, it’s not finalized. They’re still negotiating, but they want me. Honestly, I’m going to be leaving in a few weeks to start working on the choreography and was going to break up with you then. Not because I don’t love you, but I just wanted to be fair.”

“Sander, do you really want to wait until you get married, or am I just not, like, desirable enough?”

“Keatyn Douglas, don’t you dare do that to yourself. You’re gorgeous. The guys all think I’m very lucky. If they catch wind that we broke up, they’ll all be calling. Trust me.”

“They think we’ve had sex.”

“I know. I’m sorry I never set them straight about it. I just wanted to go to high school and be normal. I wanted to live out a movie.”

I laugh out loud. “Ohmigawd, Sander! Me too! You and I think so much alike, it’s crazy. So you’re cool with breaking up?”

“We’re go

“I hope so.”

“Good. You know what though? I’ve never had a role where I got my heart broken. In Grease, Sandy breaks my heart. Do you mind if I use our breakup as practice? Like I’ll act devastated at school. I’ll be all dreary and full of angst. I’m going to have to dye my hair for the role. Maybe I should do it now. People at school will be shocked. Kinda like when Da

“I’m go

“Is there such a thing?”

I laugh again. “Damian’s last gig is tonight. You should stop by.”

“I’ll try to. So are you going to tell people, or should I? Will we still sit together at lunch?”

“I don’t know. Will it fit the role?”

“Oh, good point. I should sit somewhere else and wallow. Look broken hearted. Put the hoodie up and earphones in so no one will talk to me. Play the outsider. The jilted man. Can I have one of those big emotional breakdowns by your locker?”

“Sure, why not? Am I supposed to ad lib, or are you go

“Hmmm. Not sure. This is go

“I know you do. So, Sander, I hate to do this, but I’m breaking up with you. I will post it on Facebook for the world to see. I hope you understand.”

“But sweetheart, I will die without you. You are my one true love. Now I have nothing. I will sink into the dark blackness of oblivion without you.”

“That might be overkill.”

“I’ll have to work on it. See ya later.”

And just like that. A year and a half.

Done.

I change my Facebook status to single and look out at the waves. Brooklyn and some of the guys are already hitting the surf.

I pull my hair into a ponytail, brush my teeth, spf my face, throw on a bikini, and look at myself in the mirror.

If today is the start of a new me, I should make a new impression.

I rummage through my drawer and pull out a different bikini.

The skimpiest one I own.

Before I started high school, I told Mom I wanted to look a little more, um, polished, I guess is the word, so she totally pampered me. I got polished, scrubbed, and massaged from head to toe. My hair is naturally a dark blonde, but the salt water and sun make all the light blonde highlights come out, so my long hair just got trimmed. I got lessons on how to apply makeup and how to fix my hair. My braces came off, and my teeth got whitened. I don’t need glasses, but Mom even let me get cool colored contacts, so I can change the color of my eyes from a piercing turquoise blue to a bright emerald green. I usually don’t wear them, though. My eyes are naturally kind of a bright purplish-blue, an exact replica of my dad’s. And, I don’t know, seeing them helps me feel like he’s still kinda with me.