Stalk Me (39 page)

“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.”

“I meant it too.”

“I got excited when I learned I had sponsors. I thought you’d support me. That you’d be here, I’d be off competing, but that we’d still see each other, still be together. I really hadn’t thought it through. Like the logistics of it. I was thinking all about me and my dreams.”

“I know. It’s okay. With everything that’s happened, it’s probably best for you to be gone anyway.”

“I don’t want us to lose touch. You’re my best friend, Keats, and that part of our relationship means a lot to me. I’ve been trying to make sense of all this. What you said the other day about me liking part of you. You’re kind of right about that, and it’s not fair to you. You need a guy that appreciates everything about you. Not just the surfer girl that I love.”

“You know what’s funny? Mr. Moran suggested this school when I was trying to talk Mom and Tommy into letting me go to high school.”

“Really? Maybe fate intervened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe there’s someone there that you’re supposed to meet. Maybe you chose the wrong path back then, and fate is fixing it now.”

“Brooklyn, fate is when you miss your flight and end up on the next one sitting next to the guy you’re destined to be with. Fate is when your alarm doesn’t go off, and you avoid a pile up on the highway. Fate does not almost get you kidnapped.”

“Maybe it does. You didn’t get kidnapped, and now you’re going where you were supposed to go in the first place. Maybe the guy of your dreams is waiting there for you.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m pretty sure neither one of us knows what we want, Keats. That’s the problem.”

“As in, you don’t know what we are. You haven’t known all summer, have you?”

“I’m sorry. I really do care about you, and I do love you. I guess I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

He gives me a kiss. It’s a goodbye kiss, not a we’ll-be-together-again-someday kiss. Even though I broke up with him, the kiss makes me sad, so I change the subject. “So, there’s a table full of actors sitting around out there trying to write a script for my fake life.” 

He laughs. “They come up with anything good?”

“Let’s get high, then I’ll tell you all about my fake lives.”

“Let’s not.” He moves our plates onto my desk, pulls me into his arms, and falls onto the bed with me. “Just tell me.”

“They wanted to make me poor, an orphan, or a scholarship student. Seriously? At a private school like that? They might as well have made me a leper. Then—let’s see—I just got out of rehab; I got kicked out of another boarding school; oh, I got pregnant, had a baby, and gave it up for adoption. Then Mr. Moran suggested my dad just died, and I got pissed off and walked out. I sounded like a little bitchy starlet throwing my script down and marching off the set going,
I demand a rewrite
. If it weren’t so horrifying, it would be almost comical.”

“So you still need a story?”

“Actually, no. James helped me figure it out. He said I should keep it as close to the truth as possible.”

“So, who are you, Keats Monroe?”

I hug him tightly. “I’m going to miss you terribly.”

“I’m going to miss you too, but I was thinking about what you said about wishing you could make real friends. In a weird way, you wished for this. Going away to a place where no one knows who you are. The experience might be good for you.”

“My grandma always says,
Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.
I never understood her point until now.”

“So I get to surf, see if I’m as good as I think I am. And you get to make friends, where no one knows who you are. You get to figure out who you really are. So what’s your backstory?”

“I’ve traveled the world, been tutored. I love to surf, play soccer, and dance. And we lived in L.A. for the last couple of years.”

“Oh, that’s good. It’s all true. So why boarding school? Especially your junior year?”

“Mom and Stepdad decided to live in France. I didn’t want to go, but they wouldn’t let me stay in L.A. alone, so they shipped me off to boarding school, and I’m not happy about it.” I give him my pout face. Then I say, “Or I am happy about it,” and give him my biggest smile.

“You know you’re a natural when it comes to acting. I think that’s why sometimes you aren’t sure who you are. It’s so easy for you to play different roles.” He runs his hand slowly down my arm and looks longingly into my eyes. “Can we pretend that tonight you’re still you, and I’m waiting for you on the beach?”

Thursday, August 25
^th

Everyone will love you.

5am

Brooklyn left at three this morning. 

Last night. 

I don’t even know what last night was. 

I guess it was just mostly saying goodbye. 

He wanted to pretend I was still me, the old me. But I’m not the same me anymore. 

And I’m not in love with him anymore. 

I knew in Europe that it wasn’t going to work out, but I didn’t want to admit it. 

I kept lying to myself, because once again, I had some stupid script of my perfect dream life imagined in my head. The kind of life where Brooklyn and I would live happily on a beach somewhere. Probably the kind of script no boy could ever live up to. The kind of script I could never live up to.

Brooklyn was right about one thing. 

Life is messy.

And I know that I shouldn’t have kissed him. I know that I shouldn’t have slept with him. 

But I did.

Is it so bad that I wanted to have one night where I could pretend it was still summer, and my life hadn’t been turned completely upside down?

Afterwards he tried to be sweet. “I love you, Keats. Even if it’s just as friends.” 

“So where does the sex fit in?” I asked.

“With the love,” he said.

“You make it sound so simple. It’s just not that simple.” Because we all know now. It is
not
that simple.

“Yeah, it is. You complicate it by trying to make it fit into a box, so you can update your Facebook status. A relationship should be defined by your feelings not by a status.”

I wanted to fight with him about it, but it wouldn’t change anything. We’re just over. So even though there is a part of me that will always have feelings for him, it’s a much smaller part than it used to be. 

After he left, I fell back asleep and had another bad dream. A dream where I was running and running and no matter how fast I went, Vincent was standing beside me. 

I woke up afraid. 

Ready to run. 

Ready to get on that plane and not look back. 

I drop my bag in the entryway to be loaded in the car. Mom and Tommy’s bags are packed and waiting. Tommy already had a trip planned for today. He’s going to New York to be on a late night talk show, so they’re just leaving a little ahead of schedule. The security firm booked two planes and filed the flight plans, which are easily accessible by the public, for both. One is going from here to Utah, and another is going from here to New York. I’m supposed to boldly walk out of the house. If Vincent is watching somewhere, they want him to know I’m leaving. 

I want him to know I’m leaving. I want to know my sisters are safe. 

Garrett determined that since there were already rumors about my supposed drug addiction that Utah would be a perfect place for one plane to go since there is a famous rehab center there. They have someone who fits my physical description going on that plane. She will wear big sunglasses and get dropped off at the rehab facility. From there, she will sneak out the back or something, drive to Salt Lake City, and take a commercial flight home. 

I take a good look at the house. The house that has been my home for the last few years. The spot by the window where we always put the Christmas tree. The kitchen barstools where we have some of our best discussions. The fireplace that Gracie likes to ride her trike into. I glance outside and look at the waves I love to watch. The waves that seem to be as moody as I am. Sometimes gentle and relaxed, other times, dark and stormy. 

I swore I wasn’t going to cry this morning, but I can’t help it. 

Gracie pulls on my sweatpants. The girls are all still in their little pajamas and rubbing their eyes. “Why Kiki sad?” she asks in the most adorable voice. 

I sit down next to her. “I’m going to miss you.”

She throws her little arms around my neck and gives me a strangling hug, which makes me cry more. 

“Don’t be scare-wed,”

Ivery joins the hug. “Why you scared, Kiki? You’re going on an adventure!”

Mom and Tommy say that every trip they go on is an
adventure,
so the girls will be excited about them. 

“Because I'm going by myself.” 

“Wait!!” Ivery says. “I know what will help!” 

She tears off towards her room and comes running back waving a glittery green Tinker Bell wand. It's her favorite thing in the world. She keeps it hidden in her drawer, so the other girls can't play with it. 

She thrusts it into my hand. “Take Tink. If you get scared, just wish upon a star and it will be okay.”

“I can't take this, sweetie. It's your favorite.” Plus I already wished on a birthday candle, and look where that got me.

“Tink wants to go with you, since you won’t have Mommy and Daddy.”

I want to start bawling, but I’m trying so hard not to. I need to be the brave girl my sisters think I am.

Avery and Emery join the hug and not wanting to be outdone, Avery declares, “We have presents too.”

She gallops back with her red glitter purse in hand. She unzips it and fishes around for the purple glitter magic marker that she always keeps tucked inside whichever purse she's carrying. “Here! You can write with it!”

Emery gives me a rock that she's colored on. She whispers in my ear. “You can smash people’s fingers with it when they’re mean.”

I laugh out loud at that.

Gracie sneaks into the kitchen, goes to whatever secret hiding place she knows, and brings me two Hershey kisses. She drops them in my hand. “One for Kiki. One for Kiki new fwend.”

If only it were still that easy. Sit next to someone, give them a kiss, and be best friends forever. 

Gracie squints her little eyes at me. I can tell she just thought of something else. 

She runs to the pantry, runs back to me, and drops another kiss in my hand. Then she says, “Gweysie your fwend too.” She quickly takes the kiss and eats it.

“We need to get going, honey,” Mom says gently. 

I give each of the girls one more big hug. They haven't even realized anything is different. Traveling has always been a part of their lives.

James gives me a bear hug. “Take care of yourself and remember what we talked about. Don’t ignore your fear. Always listen to it. Use your head and don’t take any chances.” Then he gets choked up and shakes his head. “I should be going with you.”

“We already talked about that. If you went, people would wonder why. I’ll be fine, I promise.” I whisper in his ear. “Keep the girls safe.” He nods and gives me another hug.

We try not to make too big of a scene for the girls’ sakes. 

Mom said she couldn’t watch me say good-bye to everyone. She’s already in the car.

It’s a long flight, but we watch a recent comedy that helps take all our minds off the inevitable. Marcus, Tommy’s assistant, Garrett, and a four-man security crew are traveling with us. Tommy has a private plane. Flying with four kids under the age of five is tough enough without having to fly commercial. Add the fact that they are photographed practically every time they try to take a pee and, well, you can see why a private jet is a must. Normally I complain that the jet is a flying toy box. 

Today, I miss the toys.

When the movie is over, Mom asks, “So, you and Brook okay?”

“Yes. No. Sorta. I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t tell you, but I broke up with him at the party, and I was going to start dating Cush again.”

“I see you brought the boots he gave you.”

“I feel really bad I didn’t get to explain things to him, but I brought the boots because they remind me of who I want to be. I’m embarrassed to say that when I started high school I had very superficial goals. I don’t know how long I’ll be there, but I’m doing things differently this time.”

“How so?”

I chuckle. “My old goals were to dress for success and always look perfect. I wanted to be popular and date the cutest and most popular boy.”

Mom smiles. “Honey, those are most girls’ goals. Everyone wants to be liked. To be popular. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Being liked is fine. I want people to like me, but I don’t want to be popular. I’m going to make true friends. I’m not going to be a bitch or be fake, and I’m definitely not falling in love.” And, I don’t tell her this, because she’s a hopeless romantic, but I’m also going to take Vanessa’s advice: I’m going to stop following my heart and start listening to my head.