“Really?” Maggie says. “That was fast.”
“I know. Makes me feel like I made the right choice, though.”
“You went against fate.”
“No, I went against chance.”
“Whatever. I’m glad you two are happy,” Katie says.
“You’re one to talk. You and Bryce have been awfully cozy.”
She smiles and bounces a little. “Yeah, we have, but I’m trying to be smart about it.”
“I’m gonna go shower before bed,” I tell them. I give Maggie a quick hug. “See you tomorrow.”
I take a shower and expect Katie to be asleep by the time I finish, but she’s still awake, texting Bryce.
“Wow. You must like him. You’re still awake.”
“He’s fun to talk to,” she says, going back to her text.
I look at my phone.
There’s a text from Brooklyn.
B: Call me if you have a chance. I want to talk to you about some stuff.
I tell Katie that I’m going to the kitchen to scrounge for a snack, but go in the stairwell and call him.
“Hey.”
“So I’ve been researching stalking cases. Want to hear some statistics?”
“Sure.”
“I found out that half of all stalkers threaten violence but that only two percent actually kill.”
“So I have a 98% chance of surviving this. I like those odds.”
“Stalking is a felony but often dismissed due to lack of evidence. Do you remember that pop singer that was stalked? The guy told everyone they were secretly engaged. Sort of reminds me of Vincent saying that he’s going to make a movie with Abby, you know?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Stalkers also tend to have inflated egos, impersonal sex, no remorse, and superficial charm. But it all comes down to one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Control and domination.”
“Garrett already told me all that stuff.”
“Well, I was thinking of something. Possibly a different approach to fighting him.”
“What’s that?”
“What if we made him feel out of control?”
“I suggested that I do a slutty video or something like Mom’s new movie. I wonder what will happen when it releases. Hopefully it won’t send him over the edge.”
“What if the control had nothing to do with you?”
“How would we do that?”
“My dad’s company is fighting off a hostile takeover.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s what I think we should do to Vincent. We do a hostile takeover of his production company. Giving us the rights to the film. If that film is as important to him as I think it is, he would fight the takeover like crazy. It might not make him forget you, but it might give him something else to do besides a nationwide search for you. It would keep you safer, longer. Then if we get the rights . . .”
“We could make the film ourselves.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you know how much his film company is worth?”
“No, but I know someone who can find out for us.”
“He inherited a lot of money when his grandmother died.”
“You inherited a lot of money from your dad, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And I have a big trust fund too. And if we didn’t have enough, we’d raise the capital somehow.”
I start to get tears in my eyes, then accidentally let out a little sob.
“Keats, don’t cry.”
“Thanks, B. Everyone has been great in trying to protect me. But I feel like I have no control. I want to fight back.”
“We’ll fight together. I want you back on the beach with me.”
“It’s late here. I need to get some sleep. Let me know what you find out.”
“It will probably be a few weeks. They have to get through their deal first. Night, Keats.”
I go back in my room, loosely braid my still damp hair, and lie down.
My phone buzzes.
Hottie God: Observation number four: You lips are still my bliss. Speaking of that . . . You still owe me $40 for getting our phones out of jail.
Me: I might owe you $20 for my phone, but you have to learn to be more responsible with your belongings.
Hottie God: I am willing to negotiate a trade.
Me: Does the trade involve kissing?
Hottie God: Yes.
Me: Then I totally owe you $40.
Hottie God: Night, Boots.
I’m almost asleep when my phone buzzes again.
B: Remember when I told you that Keats quote in the hot tub before we first kissed? I just found out there’s more to it. And it gives me hope. “A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.”
Thursday, November 10th
He doesn’t know you.
4:30pm
After dance, Peyton asks me if I want to get coffee. It’s a cold and dreary day and coffee sounds really good.
Right before we get there, she says, “Whitney is meeting us.”
“Why—”
“Thanks for meeting me,” Whitney says, interrupting my question. “I thought we should go over the French weekend menu.”
She babbles on, but I’m not sure why she thinks we’re going over it. Basically, she is just telling us what she’s already picked out.
She’s just closing her laptop when Cooper wanders in and orders a coffee.
“Did you know that he comes here every day after soccer practice?”
“Uh, no,” Peyton says, as I shake my head.
“He’s interesting. Mysterious.”
“How so?” I ask.
“No Facebook page that I can find. No girlfriend that I can tell.”
“He just moved here,” I counter. “He probably doesn’t know anyone.”
“Speaking of not knowing anyone,” Whitney says, looking me directly in the eye. “It turns out that I’m Facebook friends with a guy from your old school. Such a small world. Funny thing is, though, he doesn’t know you.”
“How would you know where I used to go to school?”
“I’m sure you mentioned it.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m pretty sure I haven’t.”
“Well, I must have seen it somewhere.”
Yeah, like maybe when she broke into the dean’s office.
“Okay?”
“I just think it’s a bit odd that he didn’t know you.”
I need to sound unconcerned, so I use my Alpha girl bitch voice to reply. “What’d the guy look like?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, was he hot? Why would I bother being friends with a guy who wasn’t hot?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really pay attention. Is that the only reason you hang out with Dawson?”
I laugh and try to change the subject. “Actually, I wanted his brother.”
Peyton tries unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle as Whitney’s eyes get huge. “You wanted Camden? But you . . .”
“Why would I want Camden? I meant Riley,” I say innocently, but knowing full well that I struck a nerve.
Whitney sneers at Peyton, but Peyton just shrugs a shoulder.
While they stare each other down, I text Cooper because I’m freaking out.
Me: Meet me in your office in ten?
Whitney grabs my phone. “Who are you texting? We’re having a discussion here.” She looks at my phone, sees my text, and can’t disguise the mad crinkle between her eyebrows. “You’re texting him?”
“I just did, yes. I asked him earlier if we could meet to talk about a summer soccer camp.”
“Bullshit,” she counters. “He’s sitting right there. You could’ve walked over and asked him. You’re hiding something. Don’t think Peyton and I don’t know that.”
“I just didn’t want to bother him,” I state as my phone lights up in Whitney’s hand.
She squints her eyes at me. “It seems to me like you and Mr. Steele are together quite a bit.”
“You’ve had meetings with him too.”
She huffs.
I don’t bother to reply. I stand up and say, “I better get going.”
I walk over to where Cooper is sitting, lean down, and say quietly, “Let’s go.”