Hate Me

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 28TH

Got blown up.

9:30am

When I get to the diner, Garrett and Cooper are already sitting at a booth in the back. I skip the hostess stand and join them.

“Hey, Garrett,” I say coolly, taking a seat. Be strong, Keatyn. It’s time for you to take charge.

“Good morning,” he replies.

Cooper rolls tired eyes at me by way of a greeting.

“So, let’s hear this plan of yours,” Garrett says, cutting to the chase.

“My plan got blown up the second you made me leave the island. Look. I want to preface what I’m about to say with a thank you. I sincerely appreciate what you’ve done thus far in keeping me and my family safe. And you’ve been especially kind to me.” I sigh. “But, when you threatened me—no, worse: when you made Tommy threaten me—it forced me to take a long look at things. You’ve purposely divided us. And I understand that we shouldn’t be in the same location, but what I don’t understand is why you haven’t been forthcoming about all that’s been going on. It’s tearing my family apart, Garrett, and I won’t allow it anymore. So, starting now, everything goes through me. All bills. All plans.”

Garrett says, “I have a separate agreement with your mom.”

“She’ll be calling you to void that later today. I don’t want to argue with you. I want to partner with you. And we’re going to begin this partnership with you telling me what’s been going on with her.”

Cooper gives me a little smile over the top of his coffee cup.

“Fine,” Garrett says. “You know that everything I do is in all of your best interests. The threatening letters didn’t stop when your mother moved to Vancouver. In fact, they have become increasingly worse. Then, there was a small breach at the Vancouver property.”

“Breach?”

“The fence surrounding the property was slashed and black roses were left on the swing set.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

“You and your mother are a lot alike, Keatyn. She’s trying to bear the weight of it.”

“Surely, you can see the physical toll it’s taken on her?”

“Yes.”

“But she won’t listen to you, right?”

“Yeah, kinda like when I had to have your bags packed.”

“Touché.” I blink slowly, then continue. “So, basically, the original plan hasn’t worked. You said that if he couldn’t find me, he’d lose interest. But the opposite has happened. It’s getting worse for my family because he can’t find me.”

Garrett nods. “I’d say that’s an accurate assessment.”

“Do you think he wants us both?”

“Based on the letters, he only wants you.”

“So he’s threatening to hurt everyone Mom loves if I don’t come out of hiding? Is that it?”

I know by the look on Garrett’s face that it is.

“Shit,” I say. “That’s why she doesn’t call me. That’s why she was freaked out when I showed up at their house. She was afraid.”

“She’s pushing you away to keep you safe.”

My eyes fill with tears. “But what about the girls? She’d want to . . .” And then it hits me. What she’s been doing. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Mom’s plan is just like mine. Only she’s using the press to help her.”

“I’m not following,” Garrett says. His and Cooper’s faces are mirrors of confusion.

“The stories in the press. The rumors of the affair with her bodyguard. Tommy and Millie cheating. She’s setting it up so that when she leaves Tommy, people will expect it.”

“She’s leaving Tommy?”

“I think so. Remember when you told me that for witness protection sometimes you make the family believe that the witness is dead? Same thing. I don’t think Tommy has a clue. She wants his reaction to be real.”

“Why would she leave Tommy?” Cooper asks. “And how would it change what’s going on with Vincent?”

“She can’t pretend to be dead, so she’s doing the only other thing she can. She’s leaving them. She’ll get the girls to France and then leave them with James. Think about it. She’s scary skinny. Tommy’s affair is driving her to drink or do drugs. She’s not stable. She’s leaving Tommy and he’ll get custody of the girls.”

“Shit,” Garrett mutters as he quickly recovers from the shock of it. “I knew she agreed to France too easily.”

“She wants them safe. But then what?” I ask. “She checks into rehab? Lives by herself? Or maybe even something bolder. Like, maybe she didn’t really cancel the To Maddie, with Love press tour.” I’m thinking out loud, now.

Garrett shakes his head. “I was under the impression she cancelled the tour. If she’s going, she won’t have security.”

“And maybe that’s what she wants. She told me it was all her fault. If she wasn’t who she is, then her children wouldn’t be in danger.” I stop and look Garrett dead in the eyes. “I asked Cooper this question, but I’d like your opinion. What do you think would happen if I walked into Vincent’s production office and asked to audition for the role?”

Garrett winces. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I know, but why? What could he do? Give me the role?”

“Well, if he’s caught off guard by it, there’s no telling what he would do. Sociopaths like to plan. They are obsessive in their planning.”

“Right, but what happens when things don’t go according to their plan?”

“They become more unhinged, mentally.”

“Would it cause Vincent to just react? And more importantly, if he couldn’t plan, would he start making mistakes?”

Garrett nods. “Their behavior becomes unpredictable. Which is bad. But, yes, if pushed, one would assume he wouldn’t be as careful.”

“That’s exactly what I want. And I’m pretty sure it’s what Mom wants.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want him to start making mistakes, so we can send him to jail. And I think Mom wants him to kidnap her for the same reason.”

Garrett holds his head like he has a headache. “I thought my job was to keep you both safe.”

“I know what I’m planning to do is risky. I’m hoping you and Cooper will help to contain that risk.”

“So tell me this plan.”

“Well, assuming that I’m probably right about Mom, the first thing we need to do is convince her to stay in France. You just can’t tell her the part about me.”

“What is it with you two?” Garrett says, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted everything out in the open?”

I smirk at him. “Well, maybe not everything. So, I have a three-pronged approach. I want to attack Vincent from all sides. He needs to know what it feels like to start losing the things he loves. First, his business. Brooklyn and I are going to work with someone his dad knows to start a hostile takeover of his production company. We’ll form a bunch of shell corporations—probably foreign, so that Vincent doesn’t know who’s behind them. We recently discovered that he’s heavily leveraged. And, more importantly, so is his company.”

“What will buying his company accomplish?”

“Do you know why he’s heavily leveraged?”

“No.”

“Because he’s personally financing a large portion of the remake of A Day at the Lake.”

“Your mom’s movie,” Cooper states.

“But he doesn’t personally own the options. The production company does.”

“And if he loses his company—” Cooper says, as Garrett finishes his thought. “He loses the movie.”

“Exactly.”

Garrett nods. “I like that, actually. It will give him something else to focus on.”

“While we focus on him.”

“How?”

“I know you used to follow him, but I want more. I want inside knowledge. So, I looked at his company website last night and I have an idea. His personal assistant is in her mid-twenties and single. Based on her social media, she’s a regular at a bar called Reggae. I was thinking you might have another employee like Cooper. Young. Good-looking. They become friends. She talks about her job. About her boss.”

“Inside information is always good.”

“What we learn from her will help me decide how to proceed on the third prong of the attack. Garrett, are you absolutely positive that there won’t be any breaches in security at the house in France?”

“We’ve fenced the perimeter of the property. 24-hour camera surveillance. Armed guards. It’s like Eastbrooke, only better.”

“Good, because the second prong of the attack will happen organically. The To Maddie, with Love publicity tour. The worldwide premieres. It all kicks off with the extend trailer premiere during the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.”

“We assumed that’s part of what sent him over the edge to begin with,” Garrett tells Cooper. He turns to me and says, “So what’s the third prong?”

“Me.”

“No.”

“Yes. We’re going to let him see me. Everywhere. When the time is right.”

“When will the time be right?”

“I’m going to audition for a role in Tommy’s next movie and, if I get it, I’ll be filming some scenes in New York City over Christmas break. They can make the crew sign non-disclosure agreements, so no one talks about my role until we’re ready. They start filming the big action scenes that I would be a part of in March, so I thought that’s when we’d announce it. Do a big press release. Flood the tabloids with pictures of me. I’ll become a wild child in the eyes of the press, but it will all be carefully orchestrated. It’ll look like I’m out and about all the time. Different guy on my arm in every picture. Drunk coming out of the club. Smoking pot. Skanky photos. Anything to get on the cover of a magazine. But all Vincent will know is where I was last night. Not where I actually am.”

“And where will you actually be?”

“Don’t laugh, but Cooper and I will be living on a boat.”

“A boat?”

“Well, more like a yacht. There are some details we’ll have to work out when the time is right, but no one tracks boats. Not like they do aircraft. So, in theory, I could drive, or maybe even helicopter, to where the yacht is, and sail to a different location. Never a night in the same place, basically.”

“You’ve really thought this through,” Cooper states, smirking at me. I think he might be proud of me.

“And what about Eastbrooke?”

“I promise that I’ll stay here until March. So, what do you think?”

Garrett smiles at me. “I will admit, your plan has some merit.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention that starting now, Cooper works for me.”

“Is that right?” Garrett asks Cooper directly.

Cooper looks him in the eye. Man to man. And says, “That’s right.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn’t told me his decision yet.

Garrett slips me a forged doctor’s note. “Why don’t you get back to school?”

I glance at Cooper. “You’re going to stay here and talk, huh?”

They both nod, so I grab my keys and head to my car.

When I get there, I call my mom.

Surprisingly, she answers.

“Hey, Mom. I really need to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure, honey,” she says. “I’m just finishing up some packing.”

“I’m glad you and the girls are going to France.”

Mom gives me a little, “A-hem,” in agreement. I know her. She doesn’t like to lie.

“This thing with Vincent has been tough on all of us. You need some time off.”

“I’m fine, Keatyn.”

“No, Mom. You’re not. And I know you planted all the stuff in the press about the affairs and about your health.”

Mom lets out a big sigh. “Does Tommy know?”

“Not yet, but he will. Don’t let this ruin your relationship. You have to stop lying to Tommy. And me. We can handle the truth. Seriously. And I am going to handle it.”

“Keatyn, you’re just a child.”

“No, I’m not. My sisters are children. I met with Garrett today. I know about the breach in security. I know Vincent hasn’t stopped sending you stuff. Scary stuff.”

Mom starts to cry. “He . . . He . . . left black roses on the swing set. Four of them. One for each of the girls. He sent a photo of Tommy getting out of a car in the city, and it was photoshopped so . . . so that . . . Tommy had been shot in the head. I can’t do this anymore. If he wants me, then he can have me.”

“But that’s the thing, Mom. He doesn’t want you. He wants me.”

“Well, he can’t have you!”

“He’s not going to. Garrett and I have a plan that takes you and the girls out of the mix. But I need your help. With the press.”

“How?”

“I need you to announce that for your health and well-being, you’re taking a break from the movie industry. If they ask where you’re going or what you’re doing, you’ll have no comment.”

“They’ll ask about Tommy.”

“That’s an easy answer. Tommy will be filming Retribution in New York and you will not be joining him.”

“Everyone will assume we’re not together anymore.”

“That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but then . . .” Mom starts sobbing. “I’ve been trying to hold it together. But it’s so hard. I’ve missed you so much, Keatyn. But I’ve been so afraid. Afraid he’d get my phone and find your number. Afraid someone would overhear me talking to you. I needed you to stay safe. You’re my baby. And this is all my fault. I thought if I left the girls safe with James and went on the press tour that maybe he’d just take me instead.”

Tears stream down my face. I had almost started to think that she didn’t care about me anymore.

“Remember New York, Mom? When Vincent chased after me?”

“Yes.”

“He was following you, but it was me that he chased. It’s me that he wants. And that means it’s time for me to take control of this situation.”

“Take control how?”

“Well, to start with, Garrett works for me now. You have to promise, no making up plans of your own, okay?”

“Okay,” she says cautiously.

I can tell she hasn’t fully committed.

“You and I agree on one important thing, Mom. And that’s keeping the girls safe. Go to France. Relax. Eat. Get some sleep. Have fun with the girls. And know that Vincent is going to be busy with other stuff.”

“What other stuff?”

“Well, aside from the premieres and press that’s due to start on your movie, we’re going to mess with his business.”

“Does he care that much about his business?”

“His business owns the rights to remake your movie. The movie seems to be the core of his obsession. If he is at risk of losing it . . .”

“He won’t have time to worry about us.”

“That’s the theory, yes.”

“I like that. It feels like we’re fighting back.”

“I like it too.”

“Does Garrett really think it will work?”

“Yes, he’s completely on board,” I say confidently. Well, okay, like, mostly on board. “So, are you in?”

“Do you promise me that everything you do will be approved by Garrett?”

“Garrett or Cooper,” I reply, not wanting to lie to her.

She exhales heavily, like maybe I’ve lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“Then I’m in.”

“Good. I love you, Mom. I have to get back to school, but call me once you get settled, okay?”

“I will. And I love you too.”

Your arm candy.

Ceramics

“We need to talk about French weekend,” Jake tells me.

“What about it?”

“You and me under the lights,” he says.

“What are you talking about?”

“The drama department is in charge of the murder mystery dinner theater for Saturday night.”

“I know. I think it will be so much fun.”

“But you didn’t sign up for it.”

“I have a date.”

“Come on. It’s good for your improv skills. And you need to play the movie star.”

“But I got the most perfect dress. And I wanna sit with Aiden.”

“You and Aiden really need to work on your communication.”

“What do you mean?”

“He agreed this morning that you should do it, and he even volunteered to play your arm candy. He said something about needing the practice. So I wrote him a part. He’ll play your lover slash arm candy. And everyone is wearing their own clothes.”

“He really said that?”

I smile, remembering how Aiden came to almost every one of my rehearsals. How he said he’d be my arm candy. How he put his hand on my knee. How he told me I lit up the stage.

“Yeah, he did,” Jake says. “We’ll all be sitting in the audience with everyone, eating and pretending we’re on a riverboat going up the Seine together. Then, when someone gets killed, right before dessert, we start.” He holds up a very large clay penis and shakes it at me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Bryce laughs and makes a naughty comment about coming and penises.

The teacher walks behind Jake, grabs it out of his hand, and swats him on the head with it. “No vulgarity, Mr. Worth.”

Bryce and I manage to stifle our giggles while watching the teacher take Jake’s art to the back room.

“What do you wanna bet she’s going to put that in her kiln?” Jake jokes.

“Jake!” I screech, laughing.

“Miss Monroe!” My name is yelled from the back room. “Come back here, please.”

“Yeah, come back there,” Bryce says, still cracking up.

I smack Jake on the shoulder as I walk by.

I peek in the back room.

Our teacher is holding my bowl in her hands. “Look!”

“It survived the kiln?!”

She smiles at me. “Yes! And I have a beautiful opalescent overglaze I think you should put on it. It’ll add sheen and highlights without distracting from the craftsmanship.” She digs through a drawer of glazes then holds up a bottle. “Here it is. See?”

“That is really pretty. I’ll work on it tomorrow.”

“Keatyn, I’m really proud of you for trying again. The foundation was the key. It’s why this new version didn’t fall apart.”

I look at my gorgeous bowl and think about Aiden.

When the bell rings, I grab my phone and text him.

Me: Meet me at ceramics!! I wanna show you something!!

Hottie God: Be right there :)

After everyone files out, Aiden steps in the classroom. His tie is loosened, one of his shirt-tails is untucked, and his blazer frames his broad shoulders. He looks like he walked straight off the pages of a magazine. He kisses my cheek in greeting.

“What’s up?”

“Remember my project? How it didn’t survive the kiln because it didn’t have a strong foundation?”

“Of course. It was the inspiration for our love mansion.”

“Guess what!?”

“What?”

“I made a new one—one with a stronger foundation—and it survived!” I grab his jacket sleeve, leading him to the back room. “Look!” I say, pointing at it.

“Wow, that’s really cool. I love the design. All the scrolly pieces. You know what this means, don’t you?”

“That I’m amazing at ceramics?”

“It means if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kiln.”

“I don’t get it.”

He runs a fingertip across the top of the bowl, then grabs my hips, pulling me close. “It means we’re going to survive the kiln, too. No matter how high the heat.”

Slightly exaggerated.

Lunch

Annie plops down next to me at lunch. “I’m breaking up with Ace.”

“What?! Why?” I ask in shock.

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“Why’s he an idiot?” Aiden asks, leaning toward Annie and putting his hand on my knee.

I try to ignore the effect his hand has on my knee. Actually, on my entire body.

“I don’t know; maybe I’m the idiot,” she says. “Because I know that something happened when he was home. He hardly called or texted me. And since we’ve been back, he’s been different.”

“Did you ask him about it?” Aiden asks.

“Yes, and he had no answer. Just sort of shrugged like it was no big deal. I’m sorry, but if you love someone you don’t ignore them for four days!”

“Maybe there’s an explanation?” I offer.

Jake sets his tray down at the table and says to me, “Did you get in trouble in ceramics?”

“No, she just wanted to show me that my new bowl survived the kiln.”

Jake puts his hand up to high five me, so I smack it. “Did she put my sculpture in the kiln?”

“No, but it was just lying there. She hadn’t destroyed it.”

“I think she wants me.”

I laugh at him. “You’re silly.”

“What’d you make, Jake?” Dallas asks.

“A mold of my dick. Teacher was hot for it.”

“Nice,” Dallas says.

“If that huge thing was a mold, I wanna sleep with you too,” I tease.

Aiden’s grip on my knee tightens for just a second. Like a flinch.

Jake rolls his eyes and laughs. “Fine, it may be slightly exaggerated.”

“Ha! I knew it!” I laugh with him.

“Can we have a serious conversation?” Annie pleads. “I’m freaking out!”

“What are you freaking out about?” Jake asks her.

She gives Jake the eye. “Do you know what Ace did over Thanksgiving break?”

“Went home?” Jake replies.

“Well, then let me ask you this, Jake. Would you have texted your girlfriend over Thanksgiving break?”

“Uh, sure?” Jake says, not very convincingly.

“What if you didn’t? What reason would you have for not texting her?”

“Maybe my phone was dead?”

“What else?”

“I was busy?”

“Exactly!” she says, pointing at him. “That’s what I thought! But busy with what—or whom—is the question.”

“Annie, do you really think Ace cheated on you?”

“I don’t know but, as you can see, he’s not sitting with me today. Look where he’s sitting.”

“I don’t see him.”

“He’s sitting by Chelsea.”

Aiden’s eyes get big and his hand finches against my knee again.

And I know.

“Aiden and Logan,” I say, “did Chelsea text either of you over break?”

Aiden nods.

So does Logan.

Maggie’s eyes get big. “She what? What did you say? Did you reply?”

“Yeah. I told her not to text me again.”

Maggie narrows her eyes. “That’s all?”

Logan pulls out his phone and shows her.

Maggie reads it. “Oh, nice. She said, and I quote, We should hook up. You know you and Maggie are never going to work. That little bitch.”

Logan leans his head against hers. “Did you see what I wrote?”

Maggie doesn’t read this out loud, but her smile tells us all we need to know.

I turn to Aiden. “What did she say to you?”

“Can we talk about it later?” he says.

“Uh, sure,” I say, but I’m not at all sure. In fact, I’m pissed. Because if he said something like Logan did, he would’ve shown me now.

I move my knee out from under his hand, crossing my legs and turning toward Annie. “It sounds like she is up to her old tricks again.”

“I bet she just sent them to Aiden and your friends’ boyfriends to get back at you.”

“You’re probably right.” I turn and say, “Bryce, did she text you, too?”

“Yeah, I told her to fuck off. She made a sexual comment about that to which I didn’t bother replying.”

Katie grins at him and runs her hand down his arm. They’re so cute together.

I know I should trust Aiden. I have no reason to doubt him. But it’s killing me.

Feasting on my stomach.

I can’t eat.

I can’t stop wondering what Aiden said to her.

And why he won’t tell me.

And I can’t even look at him. I just look straight down at my food and pretend to eat.

This is another reason why I shouldn’t have come back here. I can’t take any more drama in my life.

About halfway through lunch, Aiden reaches under the table, putting his hand back on my knee.

I was pretending to be absorbed in a conversation Jake and Bryce were having and his touch makes me jump.

I bolt upright, grab my tray, and say to the table, “I have to get to class early. See ya later.”

I throw my lunch in the trash, deposit my tray, and avoid Chelsea’s table.

Whitney says, “Keatyn,” as I walk by hers.

I sit down with her, Dawson, Brooke, and Peyton.

“Hey, how was your break?” I ask her politely.

She doesn’t answer my question. “Did Chelsea text Ace over break?”

I nod sadly. “Yeah. Logan, Bryce, and Aiden too.”

“She wants to get back at you.”

“Probably.”

“It’s because we’re divided, so she thinks she stands a chance. In fact, I was thinking . . .”

She leans over and whispers in my ear.

And what she says makes me smile. “You’re right. Tomorrow night, it is.”

A weird match.

French

I get to French class early, and Miss Praline says, “Keatyn, would you mind missing class today?”

“Not at all!” I practically scream. I really don’t think I can stand to sit here with Aiden, wondering the whole time what the heck Chelsea said to him.

“Great. I need someone to go to The Market and choose the picnic basket assortments for the French club to sell. Would you like to take Aiden or Annie with you?”

I shake my head. “Neither one of them is doing very well in class. I’d hate for them to miss it.”

“Yes, you’re right. You don’t mind going by yourself?”

“Honestly, it’d probably be easier to have just one person choose.”

“All right,” she says, writing out a pass for me. “I’ll call them and let them know you’re on your way.”

I practically skip out the door.

When I get to the office, Dawson is just leaving.

“Whatcha doing?” I ask him.

“Just dropping off something for my math teacher. What are you doing?”

“Going to choose the picnic basket assortment for French weekend.”

“Take me with you? I didn’t do my math homework.”

“Sure, why not?” I look down at the note. “She didn’t put my name on it.”

We check out with the office and he offers to drive.

“I saw Brooke was sitting with you today.”

“Yeah, and, surprisingly, Whitney was really cool about it. But I guess she’s all into Shark. Is it me, or is that kind of a weird match?”

“Shark gets a lot of girls. He’s cute.”

“Yeah, but . . .”

“I agree. It’s kinda surprising. But he complimented her Court dress, and I watched her blush. Shark has charisma. And he’s super smart. He’s the kind of guy that will go places in life.”

“True. And Whitney would like that.”

“I don’t think that’s what they’re about though. I think he turns her on.”

“Shark kind of reminds me of her dad,” Dawson laughs.

“I’ve never heard about him.”

“She doesn’t talk about him much. Her parents went through a nasty divorce sophomore year. Her mom told her that her dad never wanted to see either of them again.”

“So the guy at Homecoming that looked perfect. That wasn’t her dad?”

“Stepdad. Her mom was remarried within six months.”

“I didn’t care much for her mother. Or her bitchy sister.”

“They think their shit doesn’t stink. They aren’t very nice to Whitney. I always felt bad for her.”

“It would suck.”

“Speaking of suck,” Dawson says with a laugh. “Is it me or does that night at the Cave seem like so long ago.”

“A lot has happened since then.”

“I’m glad we’re still friends.”

“I am too. Dawson, did Chelsea text you over break?”

“No.”

“Did she text Riley?”

“No. And I think he would have said something because it would’ve pissed him off.”

“She texted Aiden. At lunch, he wouldn’t tell me what she said. He said we’d talk about it later.”

“And you’re freaking out, assuming it’s going to be something bad?”

“Kind of. Logan told us what Chelsea said and he let Maggie read what he said back. It made her happy. Aiden didn’t tell me that she texted him. And that bothers me.”

“Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you. Did you have fun together on your trip?”

“Yeah, it was really nice. And it felt like we figured things out. How to communicate better. How not to jump to conclusions. How not to get mad and walk away.”

“Does he still speak to your soul?”

“Yeah. And that’s why he scares me.”

“Keatie, don’t let it.”

“Does Brooke speak to your soul?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. She’s fun to kiss.”

I roll my eyes at him.

He smirks. “But, then, you were fun to kiss, too. That’s what I loved about our relationship. It was fun and easy. No drama.”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, there was some drama. But it was outside drama, not drama with us. Until the Whitney thing.”

“More like Whitney things. Do you think she’s changed?”

“I actually think she has. What she did for you was pretty cool. And, today, she didn’t say anything bitchy about Brooke sitting with us.”

Dawson parks in front of The Market.

“I already asked Brooke to be my date this weekend. I want to impress her with a kickass picnic. You’re going to do some extravagant options, right?”

“I am now,” I laugh.

Not as fun without you.

Dance

“What’s wrong, Maggie?”

She’s putting her pompoms in her locker slowly and staring at them like she’ll never see them again.

She sits down, slumps her shoulders, and drops her head. “I think this will be my last semester at Eastbrooke. I don’t know where I’m going to go or what I’m going to do.” Her voice cracks. “I haven’t told Logan and it’s killing me. And I half hoped he would’ve said something to Chelsea so I could get mad and break up with him. That way it will be easier when I have to leave.”

I sit down next to her and put my arm around her. “Maggie! You can’t leave! Why would you want to?”

“I don’t want to. You know how I went to Logan’s for most of Thanksgiving break?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t tell him why.”

“What happened?”

“You know that my mom got remarried a few years ago?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”

“When I go home, I feel like an outsider. Like I don’t belong. Last summer was horrible. I was so desperate I wanted to go live with my dad.”

“Why would that be desperate?”

She looks down again and starts crying. “My mom comes from a pretty well-off family. She fell in love with my dad but her family never liked him. Said he was worthless. I think eventually he started feeling that way. I remember when we’d go to my grandparents’ for holidays. They were never really nice to him. And my dad would always drink a lot. He started using drugs. My mom found out. He was spending a lot of money on them, I guess. I was only eleven when they divorced. Mom got full custody of me, and I’m hardly allowed to see him.”

“Did he show up at Thanksgiving or something?”

“No. I don’t like her new husband and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. It’s all about them and their baby. Their family. Apparently their families have known each other forever and my grandparents love him. I don’t know why. He’s a lazy ass when he’s at home. Mom has a nanny for my little brother, so she doesn’t have to deal with—and I quote—the dirty parts of raising a child. So, of course, I go home and the nanny is off for the holiday. My stepdad was on my ass the entire time. Like it was my job to take care of him. And I was glad to help. I adore the kid. So I fed him, rocked him to sleep, and was right in the middle of texting Logan when he woke up and started crying. When I didn’t jump up to get him, my stepdad grabbed my phone out of my hand and blew up. He told me I was lazy! While he was sitting on his ass! He decided I was grounded from my phone. I told my mom it was bullshit. She took his side, and I lost it. I got my little brother out of his crib, gave him a kiss, handed him to my stepdad, took my phone back, and marched out the front door.”

“And you went to Logan’s house?”

“Sorta. I was just crying and driving. Two hours later, I ended up there completely unannounced. His family was amazing. He hadn't told them we got back together because he didn't want them to get their hopes up. I felt more at home there than at my own house. My mom sent me a text and told me that Harry decided they weren’t going to pay for me to go to Eastbrooke anymore and not to bother to ask my grandparents for money because they agreed I shouldn’t behave that way.”

“Oh, Maggie,” I say softly, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I’ve been on pins and needles waiting to get called to the office and kicked out of here, but right before dance I looked up the tuition policy. They had to pay for this semester in advance and there are no refunds. So at least I know I’ll get to finish up the semester. My mom says she's not sending my allowance anymore either, so I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I have some money saved, but not enough for tuition.”

“What about a scholarship? I bet they have those.”

“They do, but they’re given out at the beginning of each school year. I could apply for next year, but not next semester. And my grades aren’t that great. Like, I’m a solid B student. Not smart enough for a scholarship.”

“You need to tell Logan.”

She gets tears in her eyes again. “We just got back together and now I’m going to have to leave him.”

I pat her back. “We’ll figure out a way for you to finish school here. Stop worrying about it. I promise, something will work out.”

“I can’t tell him. He’ll try to fix it. And his parents already make sacrifices so he can come here. It’s not like they can pay for me, too.”

“Did you go talk to the dean? Tell him the situation?”

“No. Do you think I should?”

“Yeah. If anyone can help, he can.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m embarrassed, you know?”

“Don’t be. I’ll go with you, if you want.”

She nods, then studies me. “Aiden told Logan that you almost didn’t come back.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

“He said he told you about that night. About Prom.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“He thought you might hate him.”

“I could never hate Aiden.”

“That’s what I told him. I thought you acted weird when you hugged me goodbye. Would you have really just left like that without telling your friends?”

“I’m having some family issues, too. I thought I might have to go home to help. I’m hoping when I go home for Christmas that things will be better.”

She hugs me. “I hope they are, too. And I’m glad you came back. Eastbrooke wouldn’t be as fun without you.”

“Thanks,” I say, and I mean it. A lot.

As we’re walking out the door, Peyton says, “Hey, Keatyn, wait up. I want to talk to you about Aiden.”

Oh, shit. She knows. Knows that Chelsea texted him. Knows what was said.

“What about?” I say, as calmly as I can, as Shark bumps his hip into mine and joins us as we walk toward the dorms.

“What do you think we should do for his birthday?”

“His birthday? When is it?”

“This Sunday.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

And already my mind is going crazy. He doesn’t want me to know? Does he want to spend it with Chelsea and not me?

No, stop it, Keatyn. Stop doubting him. He’s been sweet and amazing.

But why wouldn’t he tell me?

“Did he tell you Chelsea texted him over break?”

“No, but I’m sure he told her to go to hell.”

“Yeah, probably,” I say, less than enthusiastically.

“So, if you’re okay with it, I was thinking of inviting some friends out for dinner. I just didn’t want to step on your toes in case you were planning something already. But if you didn’t know, then you probably haven’t planned anything, right?”

“Right. Dinner sounds great. Wait. This Sunday is December the fourth.”

“Uh, yeah,” she says, looking at me like I’m dumb.

I knew they were both Sagittarians, but Aiden and Brooklyn share the same birthday?

Am I in the Twilight Zone?

I look up to the sky and wonder if the gods are done having fun with me yet.

“His birthday is the same day as my ex-boyfriend’s. What are the odds of that?”

Shark chimes in. “It’s really not that uncommon. About nine hundred thousand people in the United States share any given birthday. Over nineteen million if you count the world.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” I say, thankful that we’ve reached my dorm.

I hate the internet.

5pm

I’m supposed to meet Aiden for tutoring in his room.

But I’m dreading it.

Maybe I’ll accidentally fall asleep.

Maybe my phone died.

And I am sort of freaking out about the birthday.

Why didn’t he tell me about his birthday?

What am I going to get him?

I grab my computer and look up the traits for those born on December the fourth.

If you were born on this day, you are happy, fun loving, and high-spirited. You can be very easygoing, but are often quite ambitious and determined. You have a great attitude toward life. Active and focused, levelheaded and responsible, you are the kind of person who works hard and plays hard. You like your privacy and need a home base to act as your castle. However, you can be opinionated, bossy, and sometimes impulsive.

Your lucky colors are blue and bright white.

In work and money, you have great ambition and should do well in any occupation you choose. You are typically disinterested in finances, which might make you careless with your money. This should subside as you mature.

In the romance department, your soul mate will have to break through your emotional walls to gain your trust and must share your desire for a home base. They must also be able to keep up with your love of adventure and excitement. You have a lusty sex drive. You want to find your true love and will quickly become bored or restless in a relationship that’s not up to your standards.

You dream of personal freedom, and you just want to be yourself. You will go to great lengths to achieve this. You don’t really set goals; rather, you depend on your gut instincts. You dream of traveling far and wide.

I shut my laptop. I hate the internet.

I mean, except for shopping.

Just not for all the worthless information that doesn’t help you in the least.

I get a text.

Hottie God: Are you running late?

Me: No.

Hottie God: Then why aren’t you here?

Me: I don’t feel like it.

Hottie God: What’s wrong?

Me: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just mad at myself.

Hottie God: You’re mad at me?

Me: You told me that I’m supposed to tell you how I’m feeling? Right? That we’re supposed to talk? Well, here it is. You didn’t tell me that Chelsea texted you. And when you finally admitted it, you wouldn’t tell me what you said or what she said. And to top it off, I just found out about your birthday. So what else haven’t you told me?

I sit and wait for his reply.

There isn’t one, so I throw on my coat and head out the back door.

I wander through the trees, careful to avoid the mud puddles, until I get to the Cave.

I sit down on a stump, close my eyes, and decide to check in on Annie.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Just studying.”

“Have you talked to Ace yet?”

“Not really. We texted some today. But he’s still being weird. Distant.”

“I’m at the Cave. Want to come sit with me?”

“Why are you there? Aren’t you supposed be tutoring Aiden?”

“Yeah, but . . . he’s being kinda distant too.”

“He didn’t seem that way at lunch. And he seemed upset you weren’t in French. But then Miss Praline got a call from the office about you going to town.”

“Yeah, they wanted to make sure it was okay I took Dawson with me.”

“You took Dawson with you? No wonder Aiden’s being distant.”

“It was before that. At lunch. He didn’t tell me that Chelsea texted him. And he wouldn’t tell me what he said. I’m just upset about it. Oh, and his birthday is this week. He also didn’t tell me that.”

“What did he say about Chelsea?”

“He said he’d tell me later.”

“So why aren’t you letting him tell you? Why are you jumping to conclusions?”

“Why aren’t you going to talk to Ace? Why are you jumping to conclusions?”

She sighs. “Same reason as you probably. I don’t want to hear the bad news. I’m giving him until tomorrow. If he hasn’t talked to me or tried to explain, I’m breaking up with him.”

“I would too.”

“On a very weird side note, Whitney was nice to me today.”

“How?”

“She’s throwing a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show watching party in the school’s cinema room. We’re supposed to dress in something from the store.”

“I heard. That sounds fun, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I just don’t understand why she invited me.”

“She says if we present a united front, Chelsea might leave us alone.”

“You mean leave our boyfriends alone?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“That sounds good to me. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up single tomorrow.”

“Are you really upset?”

“I’m more pissed than upset at this point. I think I cried it all out over the weekend.”

“It’s cold out here.”

“Go talk to Aiden. Be a big girl.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

But I don’t. I put my face in my hands, sit frozen in my spot, and try to think positively.

What could he have said to her that he wouldn’t want anyone to hear but that would make me happy?

I think.

And think.

And can’t think of a positive answer.

And that makes me really sad.

But I decide Annie is right. I need to go talk to him.

I get up and run down the path, being careful not to step in a puddle and ruin my suede shoes. As I come out of the trees, I get knocked flat on my ass.

“What the—”

Aiden picks me up off the ground. I’m soaked and muddy. “I’m sorry,” he says.

I look down at my muddy legs and my probably ruined shoes, burst into tears, and run to my dorm.

In the bathroom, I lock the door, strip off my clothes, turn on the shower to warm up the room, and then try to clean off my shoes in the sink.

I get most of the mud off of them, pat them dry, hope for the best, and then hop in the shower.

I take a long shower, spending more time crying than washing the mud off.

I don’t know why I’m crying. I was going to see him. To talk to him.

I’ll get dressed and text him.

I wrap a towel around my body, twist one into my hair, and run out in my room to grab some clean clothes.

“Ahhhh!” I scream, dropping my hold on the towel.

I instinctively throw my hands over my lady parts while Aiden chuckles, gets off the bed, and hands me the towel. “What are you doing here? You scared me half to death.”

I wrap it tightly around myself while he says, “I’m sorry I knocked you down. Annie told me you were at the Cave. Why were you out there?”

“Because you didn’t text me back.”

“I heard you crying in the shower. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Well, you did.”

“I wanted to tell you in person.”

“I want to trust you, Aiden. I really do. But this feels a lot like when Dawson and Whitney texted. And you liked Chelsea. I just . . .”

He frowns. “You’re shaking. Go get dressed.”

I realize that I am cold. I run into my closet, throw on some leggings and a sweater, and then go sit on the bed. When he sits on the bed next to me, I quickly move to my desk chair and roll away from him.

He grabs the chair’s arms and rolls me back toward him, so our knees touch.

“I didn’t tell you about Chelsea because I didn’t want to upset you. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.”

“What did she say?”

He hands me his phone. “I saved it because I wanted to show you. But then you told me you weren’t planning to come back. And I completely forgot about it. I was upset, willing to risk my parents’ wrath to be with you wherever you needed to go. Boots, when we jumped off the cliff, you told me you trusted me. Do you?”

His question combined with the pain on his face is why I didn’t want to come back. I can’t take seeing it. And I can’t imagine how it will look in March when I tell him the truth.

“I just didn’t understand why you wouldn’t show me at lunch like Logan did.”

“Because I wanted to tell you in private. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you trust me?”

I close my eyes, trying not to cry, and nod. “Yes, Aiden, I do.”

“Good,” he says, handing me his phone. “I want you to read this.”

Chelsea: Looking forward to everyone getting back from break. You should stay away from Keatyn. She’ll be toxic when I’m done with her.

Aiden: Don’t you dare do anything to hurt her or I’ll go to the dean myself.

Chelsea: All my friends hate me because of her. Surely, you don’t think I’m going to let her get away with it.

Aiden: No, all your friends hate you because you were offering sex to their boyfriends. And what makes you think Keatyn did it? There are other people who wanted to get back at you besides her.

Chelsea: We’ll see . . . Have a nice break.

“That must be why she texted Logan and Ace. She wants my friends to hate me.”

Aiden nods. “I think so. I want you to know that I told you everything about my past on break. Promise me that you won’t believe anything she says about me or your friends.”

“Okay. But what about your birthday?”

“What about it? I can honestly say that from the time Riley punched me in the nose until now, I haven’t even thought about it. But my mom did text me today to say they’re coming the week after, both to see the dance competition and to celebrate my birthday.”

“Your sister is planning a dinner.”

“As long as you’ll be there, I’ll be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday, Aiden.”

He kisses me. “Good. Are you hungry? Why don’t I order Chinese and we can study French here?”

“That sounds good. I’ll go dry my hair.”

Aiden stays in my room until he has to leave to make curfew. We eat, study, snuggle, kiss, and talk about where he wants to have his birthday dinner. I suggest we go back to our French restaurant.

After he showers me with goodbye kisses and heads to his dorm, I grab my laptop and start shopping.

Back to shore.

12:25am

I go into the stairwell and make myself at home on a cold, hard cement step. I pull up the video conferencing software and click on B’s photo. While I’m waiting for him to come online, I stare at his tan face.

I close my eyes and remember what it was like with him. So different than it was with Cush.

It was never fast. One time, I wanted to do it on the beach—like, quick—and he told me sex isn't about just riding the wave. That it should be the joining of mind, body, and soul. That it’s waxing your board, paddling out, floating over the swells, patiently waiting for and preparing yourself for the bigger wave. Then it’s all about working your way back to shore.

It never felt like just sex with him.

But I know why.

It’s because I loved him.

But then I think about Dawson and how hot it was.

How Aiden can make me feel on fire with a single touch.

And I can’t help it. I want it all. The connection and the heat.

I think about his surfing reference of working your way back to shore. Which is fitting because it’s exactly what I’m trying to do. Get back to my family. To him. To my home. To our beach.

I know I can’t keep going like this.

I hear him say, “Keats?”

My eyes fly open. “Sorry, I was just thinking about surfing.” I start to get tears in my eyes. “God, I miss you. For two years, I saw you almost every day. I feel like a piece of me is missing.”

“I feel like a part of me is missing too. I miss everyone. Our beach.”

“Are you getting tired of traveling?”

“The flights are a bitch sometimes, and I complain about it. But then I find myself on another amazing beach. Kinda like our summer of waves—all the beaches we discovered. Except bigger and better.”

“It was a good summer.”

“Yeah, it was. So, I’m sorry, I haven’t had time to get together with the guy on the takeover stuff yet. I will, though. This week or next, maybe.”

“But, I thought that’s why we were talking tonight, so we could get started? We need to start now, B. You don’t understand. There are a lot of moving parts to this.”

“What do you mean?”

“It has to be timed so that it hits Vincent all at once.”

“What does?”

“A hostile takeover alone won’t do it. I have to push him from every direction. The publicity for Mom’s movie starts this week. We have to start this week.”

I’m starting to panic. I need this to go according to plan. It has to.

“Oh,” he says. He closes his eyes and looks down. I notice he looks stressed.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Something was delivered to my hotel room earlier.”

“What?” I say, instantly on edge.

“A box. In it was a framed photo of me, taken when they handed me the trophy this past, uh, weekend,” he stutters again. He’s shaken.

“Can I see it?”

“Garrett made me send it to him, hoping for forensics.”

“He won't find any.”

“Probably not, but I took pictures of it. The ones I texted him when I got it.”

“Send them to me.”

I watch as he grabs his phone off the table. He gives me a bleak look and I wish I could reach through the phone and brush the lines of stress from his face. They just don’t look right on him.

My phone vibrates with the text.

“I know this is going to upset me so, before I see it, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you. How, through all this shit, you've grown and focused and taken a chance on your dream.” I put my fingers against the computer screen.

He mimics me, our hands touching tenderly onscreen.

“I was serious when I said I wouldn't be here without you. That night at the Undertow was a turning point in my life.”

In both our lives, I think, remembering falling straight into Vincent's arms.

I keep my hand glued to his as I look down and see the photos pop up on my screen. I click on the first one, making it bigger. It’s of a plain white gift box, white tissue paper pulled open, and black rose petals sprinkled around an ornate black picture frame.

I look up at him. “I just looked at the first photo with the black rose petals, so I know it's from Vincent. B, have you been keeping anything from me?”

He stutters, “Uh, um . . .”

“Look, it's okay if you have. My mom did the same thing, trying to protect me. So, if you've gotten other things from Vincent, or seen him, tell me now.”

“What? Uh, no. He's never been spotted, other than Long Beach. But, except for Hawaii, my tournaments have been out of the country.”

“And he’s never sent you anything else or threatened you in any way?”

“No. Other than not being able to see you, this whole thing really hasn't affected me that much. Until now.”

I look at the second text. This one is a close-up version of the photo inside the picture frame. I can see B holding a trophy above his head in victory. It's exactly as I imagined the scene when I heard it. But then I notice writing on the bottom. I quickly zoom in to read, I wouldn't be here without you. I love you, Keats. I smile until I notice the spots. I squint, trying to figure out what they are.

“What are you looking at?”

“Your quote. But I see spots around them and I—” I instantly lose my voice as my eyes focus in on the reason for the red spots. There's a single bullet hole in Brooklyn's forehead and the whole back of his head is blown away. A horrible special effect frozen in time.

I drop my phone into my lap and cover my eyes with my hand, willing my brain to wipe away what I just saw. No wonder Mom freaked when she got a similar photo of Tommy.

“Keats.”

I uncover my eyes, B’s face a welcome sight compared to the horrible image in the photo. “What you said about me has put you in danger.” Guilt, love, and horror swirl in my brain causing tears to spill down my face and filling me with hysteria. “I’m so sorry, B. I'm so sorry you had to see that. You never . . . should’ve . . . said you love me.”

“Um, about that.”

“About what?”

“The I love you part.”

“That's what made you a target. This photo is for me, not you. He's trying to scare me,” I sob. “He’s succeeding.”

“Keats, look, I just need to tell you something . . .”

“You have gotten other stuff from him?”

“No, it's, well, there's this girl . . .”

His words feel like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of me.

“No! Don’t, B,” I beg, covering my eyes again. “Don’t say it. I can’t hear it. Not right now.”

“Keats. I know you’re seeing . . .”

“No, don’t! Just lie to me.” I feel like a riptide is pulling me under, drowning me. I’m crying hysterically now. I put my hand against my forehead, trying to calm myself down, but I can’t. My heart’s beating wildly.

“You need to calm down.”

And that sets me off. “Calm down?! Calm down?! The only thing that’s getting me through this is the thought of being able to go home. You made me promise you another chance. That we’d be back on our beach. I can’t do all I’m about to do if you aren’t gonna be back on that beach with me.” I sob more. “I just want to go home. He ruined our beach, B. I want it back. I want my family back. You and the beach are part of my home. I. Just. Need. To. Go. Home.”

“It sucks, but . . .”

“No buts! What if that horrible picture happens?”

B nods and buries his face in his hands.

Then he looks up at me with a mix of tears and determination in his eyes. “You're right. We have to do this. We have to get our lives back. I’ll text you with a time to talk to the takeover guy.” He puts his hand back on the screen. I reach up and touch it. “And I promise when this is over, we'll both go home.” I nod as he says, “I love you, Keats,” kisses his tattoo, and gently closes his laptop.

I shut mine too.

And cry.

I’m sure he’s seeing someone. And it’s okay if he is, but I need him in this with me. I’m not sure I have the guts or the courage to do it alone.

I love you flits through my brain. I do love B. I just don't know what kind of love it is anymore. And, based on what he says, he doesn’t know either. Still, I know he's part of the mix. Of all the people I love. Of my family. Of my friends. Of him. My home. And I know that neither one of us will be able to go forward without going home first.

I sneak back into my bedroom and try to go to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I see the photo Vincent sent B.

Only I see it in motion.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand.

Hottie God: You’re probably asleep, but I just wanted to tell you I miss sleeping with you.

Me: I’m awake. I miss it too.

Hottie God: Then maybe I should do something about it.

Me: I think maybe you should.

I unlock the window and keep my eyes open until I’m safely wrapped in his arms.