Kiss Me

Aiden still hasn't let go of me. He's listening very carefully to every word I say.

“You know, you're even beautiful when you cry,” he says as he brushes a few tears from my cheek.

I smile though my tears. “If this is the new and improved Aiden, I like him better already. I just don't get why Dawson would leave. He bought me a key-to-his-heart necklace a while ago. He says he really likes me. But then he does this? Just leaves? Is that what they do, Aiden? Is this just a game to them?”

Aiden scrunches his nose up. “It all seems kind of odd, especially after what he said to me at halftime.”

“He got mad you stopped to check on me, didn't he?”

“Yeah, he was pissed.”

“It was nice of you. So I'm pretty much exhausted. I can't wait to go to sleep.”

Aiden helps me out of the bushes and then walks me to my dorm.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, “If you hear anything about your friend, let me know, okay?”

“Okay. Night, Aiden.”

“Night, Boots.” He gives me a devilish grin then pats me on the back.

“Very fu

The dorm is quiet. Most everyone has left for the weekend. Katie and Maggie must have already left for A

I wash my face, put on some pjs, and fall into bed.

I am just on the edge of sleep when my phone rings.

I instantly shoot up in bed, panic griping me when I see Garrett’s name.

“Did you find her? Please tell me she’s okay.”

“She posted a picture on Facebook. We can run it through our facial recognition software, but I thought you might know faster. I just sent you the photo.”

Up pops a photo of Vanessa wrapped in a pair of deeply ta

“Ohmigawd!” I squeal with delight. “She’s with Bam Bam! That's why her dad isn't reachable either. She's with her dad on Bam's yacht.”

“Want to tell me who Bam Bam is?”

“Sure. His name is Juan Fabio Martinez. He's an Argentinian polo player. He’s really talented, went pro at fifteen, and he’s only a year older than me and Vanessa. His dad owns, well, like, South America, I think. He's awesome. He's looks like a Polo Ken doll and even comes with his own set of toys.”

“His own set of toys?”

“Yeah. Yachts, boats, suitcases full of cash, a helicopter, a ranch, horses, and Ferraris. Always a Ferrari. And always red. Last count he had eight. All different years and models. Every year around this time, he has a party on the yacht. His dad does some business with Vanessa’s dad, and she and I have gone the last two years. I forgot about that. If you would have let me keep my phone, I could have saved us both a lot of worry. I'm sure he texted me.”

“So she's safe and not with Vincent?”

“I’m positive. She's safe and not with Vincent.”

“Look at the photo carefully. Are you sure it's new, not from last year?”

“I’m positive. Vanessa is in a bikini I have never seen. She has new caramel colored highlights, and Bam has a new tattoo. See the Ferrari prancing pony on his shoulder. That’s new.”

Garrett lets out a big breath. “Good. I'm still worried that we don't know where Vincent is. Will you be at school all weekend?”

“No, I'm going to my loft in the morning.”

He lets out another big breath. “Even better.”

I get off the phone and say a prayer. Thanking God that Vanessa is okay.

I close my eyes and think about going to sleep, but then I remember to call Aiden.

“Is your friend okay?” he answers with.

“Yes. I just got good news.”

“I’m glad. I've been praying for that all day.”

“Me too. Thanks for today, Aiden. For talking—well, for listening to me and for getting us out of trouble for skipping.”

A Facebook notification dings in my ear. I move my phone in front of my face to see it. Whitney has posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel’s cheek in the limo.”

“Wow. That hurts,” I say to myself, forgetting Aiden is on the phone.

“What hurts?” he says.

“Whitney just posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel.”

“On the cheek. I just saw.”

I start to cry again. I swear my emotions have been everywhere today.

“I have to go, Aiden,” I choke out.

I hang up and turn off my phone.

I told myself that I was not falling in love.

I’ve tried not to care about Dawson.

But, apparently, I didn’t try hard enough.

That’s it.

I am officially done with boys.

Forever.

I’ll become a nun or a lesbian or a get a sex change or something.

Maybe sew my vagina shut.

I laugh at my stupidity and then cry myself to sleep.

Saturday, September 24th

What the hell?

7am

When the alarm wakes me up at seven, I really don’t want to get up. I’m tempted to throw on a pair of sweat pants, but I decide I need to wear a cute outfit to see my new home. The thought of seeing it temporarily puts me in a good mood even though my ass is seriously dragging.

Probably because I didn’t sleep much, and when I did, I dreamt about epic battles between good and evil and, not surprisingly, evil was wi

I fix my hair, put on an adorable chiffon Free People mini dress. Killer lace-up Givenchy boots. I throw all my stuff in a Burberry Prorsum checked tote. I’ll see my loft, then go to all the shops where Kym wants me to try on dresses. Then I’ll spend the rest of the day trying to fill my closet with new clothes. I’m not going to let a dumb boy keep me from shopping. Or a stupid stalker.

It’s time I start to live.

And I think I will start by seeing just how much damage I can do with a black card. Mom always says looking good is the best revenge. Maybe it’s time I prove her right.

I look at my clock, see it's already almost eight, grab my luggage, and head out of my dorm. I walk down the big hill to the security building, where I have to sign out and wait for my cab.

I turn my phone back on, in case the cab company needs to get a hold of me, and throw it back in my purse.

I hear my phone power up then hear numerous dings and beeps as emails, texts, and notifications start coming in.

I'll look at them in the cab. Or just delete them.

I walk into the security building, say good morning to one of the guards, and size him up. Wonder if he'd ever let Vincent in.

“Morning, Miss Monroe. Your cab is waiting outside the gate.”

“Thank you,” I say as I sign the form he puts in front of me.

“I tried to call you a few minutes ago to verify you had called for one.”

“Sorry, I didn't have my phone on. Is that the procedure for visitors? You call before you let them in?”

“We have very strict procedures about who gets on campus. We have lots of important kids here and kidnapping is always something we worry about and guard against. We've never let anyone in that didn't belong. Never had an incident in my twenty-two years here.”

I pray silently that I won’t be the first.

“There was a girl at my old school that had a stalker. He was really tricky and got through campus security by lying about who he was and why he was there.”

“Well, you can be certain that won't happen here, Miss. We check and double check before we let anyone on campus.”

He waves at a delivery truck that has just come through the gate. I notice that the guard down at the booth just waved him though. The truck never even stopped.

“What about that guy?”

“Oh, that's Gary. He's been delivering to the café for a couple years. He'll stop and have a cup of coffee on his way out.”

“What do you do if Gary is sick?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if someone pretended Gary was sick and drove his truck in?”

“Well, we’d call and verify that he was sick, but if he's in Gary’s truck, he's probably okay.”