Authors: Mercy Amare
He grins. “You are beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. And whatever other adjectives that are used to describe somebody who looks as amazing as you do right now. You with your cute dress, Converse, and slightly messy hair. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better than you do right now.”
“My hair is messy because of you,” I say, running my free hand over it.
Just because Ty and I definitely aren’t having sex doesn’t mean we can’t make out. Making out with him is fun, and it makes me that much more excited for December 6—the date we both agreed we could have sex.
Ty and I walk inside the arena. There aren’t any lines, and I can hear music already playing. I don’t recognize the band.
“The reason we’re here should be on the stage in about five minutes,” he says.
We make our way to our seats. We walk past a ton of screaming people. Some people are dancing, some are singing along, and some people have obviously had a little too much to drink.
Finally, we get to our seats.
They’re in the front row.
I still have no clue what’s going on. I mean, obviously we’re seeing a concert, but Ty said we’re doing something we’ve done before.
The band ends their set, and a bunch of guys run out on stage and change a few things around. About three minutes later, the band comes out. It’s then that I realize—Ty and I have seen this band before. On our very first date.
“Oh, my God!” I say, excitedly. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
He grins.
They start singing, and I realize there is something different about the band. The original singer they had isn’t in the band anymore, which is a good thing. That guy sucked. And instead, another girl is singing lead. They sound
so much better
. And there are a lot more people here tonight than there were the first time we saw them.
“They dumped their lead singer and got a record deal,” Ty says. “Their EP was so popular that the record company put them in the recording studio to work on their full length album and this is the kick off for their world tour.”
“That’s so awesome!”
And it is. I can say that I saw them before they got famous.
I love that we saw them on our first date and now we’re seeing them again on our first date as boyfriend and girlfriend over a year later. This pretty much makes Ty the most romantic guy on the planet.
The best part?
Ty is mine.
I could definitely get use to this.
Saturday, November 13
9 a.m.
Separate rooms.
I wake up the next morning with a text from Gabe. I expect him to comment on my changed relationship status with Ty, but he doesn’t. I’m trying to figure out if that is a good or bad thing.
Gabe:
Get home as soon as you can. Got new info that I’d rather not share via text.
I show Ty the text message.
“I guess we are going back early,” Ty says, after reading it.
“We don’t have to,” I say.
“Figuring out your stalker situation is a lot more important than spending a romantic weekend in Malibu,” he says.
“I wish we didn’t have to go back at all. This weekend just started, and it’s already been so epic. You planned the perfect date.”
“I tried,” he says, getting out of bed. “Now, let’s get ready and go home. We will just have to do something at Berkeley this weekend.”
“Maybe next weekend things will be less crazy and we will be able to go home,” I say.
“We are, because next weekend starts our Thanksgiving break,” he says.
“Thanksgiving,” I say, then sigh. “I guess that means we are going to go to my parent’s cabin where it’s cold and there is no cell reception. My dad and Jack Johnson will spend the whole time skiing, Veronica will complain about how I dress, and Libby will tell me how much she hopes Gabe and I will get back together. Of course Toby will be high the whole time and Gabe will annoy the crap out of me.”
“I will be there,” Ty says.
“And since we’re not having sex, I’ll have to fight you off,” I joke. “Maybe I’ll just get high with Toby.”
“It could be fun. I haven’t smoked weed in a long time,” he says.
“I’ve never done it.”
“You know, sometimes I forget how innocent you are,” he says.
“I’m not that innocent,” I say. “Not anymore. And I’m pretty sure that you’re the one who corrupted me.”
“Naw. You’re still innocent.”
I roll my eyes and get out of bed. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Ty Newman,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “If you don’t stop doing that, next time I will insist we get separate rooms.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he says. “Fine, I’ll behave. For now.”
That’s as good as it’s going to get.
This whole
no sex
thing is going to be harder than I thought.
3 p.m.
IP address.
When Ty and I get back from Malibu, Gabe is waiting for us in the living room.
He doesn’t look happy.
“Where were you?” Gabe asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Malibu,” I answer. “We went to see a concert last night. I thought you knew. Sorry.”
“Right,” Gabe says. “While you two were hooking up in a hotel, I stayed up all night working my ass off for you.”
“Sorry,” I say, not knowing what else I can say. I’m not going to correct Gabe and say that Ty and I didn’t have sex because it’s none of his business.
“You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “We broke up. You can be out with whomever you want. It’s none of my business.”
“Exactly,” I say, agreeing with him.
“So, Olivia,” Gabe says. “She’s gone off the grid. Since September there has been no phone activity, no credit cards used, not even a contact with her mom. There is nothing.”
“No,” I say. “She has to be talking with her mom. If she wasn’t, I know she would report Olivia missing.”
“Unless she is sending letters, there hasn’t been any contact.”
“Well, maybe she
is
sending letters,” Ty says.
“Maybe,” Gabe says, truly considering what Ty said.
“So, you have no idea where Olivia is?” I ask.
Gabe shrugs. “Maybe outside our apartment.”
I shiver at the thought. It’s bad enough knowing that Brian is out there, but now I have to consider the possibility that there are two people watching my every move.
“Do you think Brian and Olivia are working together?” Ty asks.
I didn’t even think about that, but it makes sense.
“What about the email I got from Olivia?” I ask.
“What about it?” Gabe asks.
“Can’t you trace her IP address or something?” I ask.
“Bring me your computer,” he says.
“Ugh, okay,” I say.
Going back to my room, I grab my computer then come back to the living room and hand it to Gabe. I’m about to offer to type in my passwords when he opens it and unlocks it himself.
“How...” my voice trails off.
“You should change your passwords,” he says. “It’s way too easy to figure out. It’s also been the same since we started dating last year.”
I should be mad at him, but he’s helping me.
Memo to self: change all my passwords immediately.
I use the same password for everything, which I
know
is a big no-no. If Gabe was able to figure out my password that easily, surely other people would be too. Which means they have access to
Staying Connected, Instagram
, and all my other social media sites.
“Ugh, Gabe,” I say.
“Yeah?” he asks, not looking up from the computer.
“You haven’t logged into my Snapchat, right?” I ask.
Finally, he looks up. “Why? Have you been sending naughty pictures?”
My face warms at his comment. “That is none of your business.”
Gabe laughs.
“Gabe, I’m serious.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t looked up your naughty pictures on Snapchat,” he says. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’ve seen it all before. We’ve had sex. Lots of times.”
“I wouldn’t say
lots
,” I say.
I’ve probably had more sex with Ty in a month’s span than I did with Gabe during the course of the five months we were together. I was almost
relieved
on the nights Gabe didn’t want to have sex. That probably should have told me something.
Gabe just frowns at me, once again reminding me why I shouldn’t live with my ex-boyfriend.
I should say ex-boyfriends, but technically, Ty is my boyfriend again.
Oh, my God. I have a boyfriend. And it’s Ty. Oh, the irony.
“So you two are dating now. Officially,” Gabe says, looking back at the computer screen.
“Yes,” I say.
“Congratulations,” he says, though I can hear the sarcasm in his voice.
I decide to let it slide. For now.
“Thanks,” I say.
Ty remains quiet, thankfully.
“You’re going to have to stop the Snapchat pictures,” Ty says.
I look at him. “Why?”
“Because, what if somebody is looking at the pictures you send,” he says. “Or what if somebody decides to do it now that they know you send pictures.”
Gabe laughs. “I have better things to do than look at pictures of my ex-girlfriend sexting her new boyfriend.”
“I will stop,” I tell Ty, because I was already planning on it. “I guess you’ll just have to take your own pictures.”
Gabe isn’t laughing anymore. “Maybe you two could not flirt in front of me. Thanks.”
I roll my eyes. “Maybe this whole living together thing is a bad idea.”
“I’m not leaving,” Gabe says. “At least not until you are finally free of your stalker. And even then, I’m pretty sure we will be a part of each other’s lives. Our dads are business partners and our families are close. There is no getting around holidays and vacations together.”
“Keep in mind that I will
obviously
be bringing my boyfriend to these family events,” I say. “I will try to be respectful towards you, but I can’t tiptoe around your feelings for the rest of your life. And someday, when I’m married, I’m going to flirt with my husband in front of you.”
“As long as Ty isn’t that husband, I think I’ll be fine,” Gabe says.
“What if he is?” I ask.
Ty grins at that comment.
“I’m not saying he will be,” I add, because I don’t want Ty to get the wrong idea. “I’m eighteen and have
many years
before I get married. By then, I may have been through a lot of guys.”
“Or, maybe you’ll be married to me,” Gabe says.
“I highly doubt that,” I tell him, hoping that I don’t hurt his feelings.
He just smiles. “I don’t.”
“Oh, my God, you are so annoying,” I tell him.
“I know,” he says.
“And I’m with Ty now, so respect that.”
“Fine, whatever.”
Ty slips his arm around my waist, and I look over at him and smile. I am glad that I said yes to him.
“Got it,” Gabe says.
“Got what?” I ask.
“The IP address,” he answers. “And the email was sent from a computer at a public library.”
“Where?” I ask.
“From a computer at UCLA. The email address has been deleted,” Gabe says.
“So it’s a dead end?”
“Pretty much,” he says.
“Where do we go from here?” Ty asks.
“I don’t know,” Gabe answers. “There isn’t a whole lot else I can do unless she leaves some clues.”
Ugh.
This sucks.
I just want this whole thing to be over.
“We know that Olivia is capable of killing, and that she possibly has somebody working with her,” Gabe says. “We just need to be careful. Olivia is obviously a smart girl. She is staying off the grid, and she hacked into the computers at UCLA, which is not easy. I’m going to have to upgrade our computers, phones, and the security cameras in the hallway. I will make sure she can’t hack them.”
“How will you do that?” I ask.
“My dad wrote the programs that the White House uses,” Gabe says. “And yes, I have hacked into my dad’s security. Once I did that, I decided to create something better. I haven’t shown anybody yet, but at this point there is no way that anybody can hack it, especially not Olivia.”
“That’s awesome, Gabe,” I say. “I had no idea that you were interested in writing your own programs.”
He frowns. “I finished it while we were dating.”
“I’m beginning to see why you two didn’t work out,” Ty says. “You both suck at communication.”
Ty is right.
I do need somebody who forces me to talk about my feelings. Unfortunately, Gabe needs the same thing. And after a year of knowing Gabe, I still don’t
know
him. Not really. But I do know that he and I would’ve never worked out.
“Me, too,” Gabe says.
I suck at relationships and feelings. It’s one of the things I wish I could change about myself.
I guess I have Dad to think for that.
“I’m going to get to work,” Gabe says, motioning towards my computer. “Mind if I keep this for a bit.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
Gabe goes to his room to get to work.
And now, we wait.
9 p.m.
Yolo.
Gabe secures all our computers, phones, and security cameras. He assures us that it’s easier to break into the CIA’s database than it is to break into our laptops and phones. I believe him. But I also wonder, what the hell is he doing at Berkeley? He truly doesn’t need college. He should be working for the CIA or Homeland Security or some top secret branch of the government that normal people aren’t privileged enough to know about.
I find it sad that I, an eighteen year college student, have to have that kind of security anyway. If my dad knew what was going on, I’d have a team of security guards with me twenty-four seven. He’d probably also make me come home. And maybe that would be the smart move, but I don’t
want
to go home. I’m an adult, and I can handle this. The police know everything... mostly everything... and I’m being safe. It’s not at all like last time.
Or maybe it’s exactly like last time. Maybe I haven’t learned my lesson. Maybe the only difference is that now I
am
a legal adult.
I miss the times before I was a billionaire’s daughter. Well, I was
always
a billionaire’s daughter, but I miss when I didn’t
know
that I was. Back when I was with my mom in the suburbs.