Hate Me

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 17TH

Trying to hang on.

11:30am

We wake up around ten, go back to our dorms, and start packing up for winter break.

“It seems like we just got here,” Katie says sadly. “I can’t believe it’s already Christmas.”

“I know. It’s gone so fast.”

“I love it here,” she says.

“I do too. Are you and Bryce doing anything over break?”

“Yeah, he’s coming to my parent’s cabin after Christmas to ski and spend New Year’s together. What about you?”

“Aiden’s going to the Caribbean with his family, but we’re spending New Year’s together.” I grab my suitcase and some shopping bags full of gifts. “I’m going to run these out to my car.”

I load them up and then head back to my dorm. Cooper is standing outside.

“I just texted you,” he says. “My friend texted Vincent’s assistant. She said she couldn’t leave early. That her boss had just gotten a horrible threatening photo and had thrown it against the wall, then made her clean up all the glass.”

“So he was mad. Then what did he do?”

“Left his office and had dinner with two of his investors. Trying to hang onto his company.”

“We need to plan what we’re going to do next. I’d like to go back next Thursday but with filming, I can’t.”

“I think the company takeover stuff is enough for now. Your mom’s movie is still getting a ton of buzz. So, you’re going to the dance tonight, then going to a hotel with Aiden, then going to your loft on Sunday morning?”

“Yeah, he’s staying with me until the twenty-third, then leaving for St. Croix with his family.”

“And what are you going to do after that?”

“Stay at my loft. Everyone thinks I’m going home. I won’t go out, so don’t worry about me.”

“It’s my job to worry about you. What if you came home with me for Christmas? My parents would love it.”

“Really, Cooper?” I blink away tears.

“Yes, really. I don’t want you to be alone and I know you can’t go home.”

“That would be nice. I’ll get to see Tommy but it just isn’t going to be the same.”

“I know. Have fun at the dance tonight.”

“Have fun chaperoning.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Yeah, right.”

Follow my script.

6pm

I’m getting ready for Winter Formal.

Curling my hair and then twisting it into a side braid that will show off my dress. Putting makeup on. Touching up my pedicure. Painting my nails.

My dress and shoes are already loaded into my Range Rover.

Aiden and I caravan to the boutique hotel where we’re spending the night, so we can drop off all our bags. After the dance, school is officially out for break.

And, since we have quite a few bags, we decide to get dressed at the hotel.

He holds my hand as we enter our beautifully perfect suite, our heels clicking on the worn oak floors. Center stage sits a modern black four-poster bed dressed in a fluffy comforter and pillows. The linens are all white except for a golden throw draped at the end of the bed. There’s a huge fireplace stacked with wood just waiting to light the room with a golden glow. A thick, white, fluffy rug that’s dying to be curled up on. A chaise to lie on. Champagne waiting to be chilled. The bathroom features golden marble, a modern free-standing tub, and a jetted shower.

As I look at each element of the room, I’m envisioning all the places we’re going to do it.

Tonight is finally the night.

And even though I wrote my script to tell him right when we get back to the room, part of me wants to wait until after.

The chicken part of me.

But my heart knows that I need to follow my script. Tell him the truth before I commit to him in that way. I don’t want there to be any lies between us when it finally happens.

I’m just worried that he won’t follow my script.

That he won’t understand.

But you have to trust the people that you love.

So I gaze again at the beautiful surroundings, wiping the negative thoughts from my mind and letting warmth fill my heart.

Knowing that things are going to be perfect.

I make Aiden get dressed in the bathroom while I put on my dress and shoes in the bedroom.

He yells, “You ready yet?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

He walks out of the bathroom wearing a classic black Gucci tuxedo.

Just think, Keatyn, you get to undress him tonight.

My perfect boy.

I’m wearing a pretty Catherine Deane strapless, silk-organza gown. The gown’s sweetheart neckline features polished metal beads, appliqués, and picot-edged overlays. I feel like a winter fairy. Soft and flowy, with just a little sparkle.

Aiden says, “You look stunning.”

“You look pretty stunning yourself. Love the tux.”

I pull up the skirt of my dress and show off my deep gray Nicholas Kirkwood suede pumps that are covered in pale multi-colored swirls of crystal.

“You were right,” he says. “Those are the perfect shoes for the dress. You ready to go?’

“Not really,” I say. “I want to go, but I kind of wish we could just stay here.”

He kisses me and says, “We’ll leave early.”

“Deal.”

We have fun dancing with our friends.

Sneaking into the bathroom for sips of whiskey.

Mostly, I have fun being close to Aiden.

Having him whisper to me how it drives him nuts when I grind on him. The husky, desire-filled sound in his voice.

The way he smells.

The way he looks.

The way my dress floats around me like a dream when he twirls me.

Around us, other people are dancing, but it feels like the room, the dance floor, the whole night, was made just for us.

When we take a break, I decide to give Riley his final present.

He picks me up and hugs me when he opens a high definition video camera. The kind he could actually shoot a real movie with.

“You’re my new best friend,” he says.

“I’ve always been your best friend,” I tease.

“Naw, it was Dallas, but between him defiling my rug and your gifts, you win.”

I hug him back. “Be nice. And, for the record, I’m going to miss you.”

“We’ll only be apart for about a week. Besides, I’m not up for being nice. Tonight is all about being naughty. Did you find out who your Santa is?”

“No, I thought it was you. And I haven’t kept track of who has revealed theirs already.”

“I think some people are waiting until later. Bryce said he’s having a party in their hotel room. Doesn’t he want to be alone with Katie?”

“I think they’ve been alone about every night this week.”

Riley laughs. “I’m not going to party. Are you?”

“No. Did Aiden tell you about our suite?”

“Yes, we’re staying at the hotel, too. Thought we’d meet up for lunch before we leave, so we could talk more about this video for Damian.”

“That sounds perfect.”

There’s a break in the dancing as the house Sweethearts are announced.

Hawthorne is the last to go.

Aiden whispers, “I think it’s going to be you.”

Jake, who is now onstage, announces my name, and calls me up.

I receive a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a little tiara that says Sweetheart.

The music starts back up again.

I’m so ready to leave now. To get to our room.

It’s been a perfectly scripted night.

Lots of slow dancing.

A gorgeous dress that swirls around my body like a snowflake.

The date of my dreams.

Everything is perfect.

Even though my life is so far from it.

I’m tempted not to stay for the Social Committee presentation. Whitney’s doing it all. No one would miss me.

Aiden pulls me into his arms as a slow song plays.

I’m seriously considering dragging his ass out of here this second, telling him the truth, and then making mad, passionate, amazing love all night long.

And although that’s how I scripted it, I will admit, I’m still debating about doing it, like, once—or maybe twice—before I tell him. So that if I was completely wrong and he hates me for lying to him, at least I’ll have experienced the Titan and won’t spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like between us.

His arms are wrapped tightly around my waist, and he keeps kissing the side of my face as we dance.

He says quietly, “I think we should start in front of the fireplace on that soft rug, then move to the chaise.”

“I noticed the bench at the end of the bed too,” I whisper.

“And the jetted shower, the tub. Eventually, maybe the bed too.” He lets out an adorable sexy chuckle. “I have something I need to tell you first,” he says.

“What’s that?”

He leans back and pulls a long white feather out of his jacket and holds it in front of me. There’s a little hot pink ribbon curling off of it, just like there has been on all my other gifts.

“You’re my naughty Santa?” I say in shock.

He nods.

“Seriously? I thought for sure it was Riley.” Then I grin at him. “The stuff you got me. Um, did it have a purpose?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re tricky is what I think. You wrote an M on your list. I thought you had Maggie.”

“You looked at my list? You’re a bad girl. And, just for the record, I stole all your gifts out of your car. They’re at our room waiting for us.”

“I think maybe we should get the hell out of here now.”

He whispers, “That’s why I fucking love you, Keatyn Monroe.”

“I fu—” I start to say, but Whitney grabs my elbow, pulling me away from Aiden.

“Hey, you ready to go onstage?” she says with a big smile. “End the night and officially kick off our winter break?”

“Um, we were just thinking about leaving.”

“No way. Not before this. Plus, I decided I want you and Peyton up there with me.”

Aiden gives me a smoldering look and puts the feather back inside his jacket. “Go ahead,” he says. “Then we’ll leave.”

“Should I go round up the Social Committee?”

“No. I want just you two,” she says, grabbing Peyton from where she’s dancing with Brad.

We hold hands and make our way up to the stage.

“Attention, everyone,” she says after taking a microphone off the podium and tapping on it. “I have some exciting news to share. And I’m so happy that my two best friends are here on stage with me.”

I smile at her, knowing that her surprise will be the announcement of her college of choice. She’s gotten all her acceptance letters back and has been playing coy about where she’s going. Even though I know it will be Yale with Shark.

Really, I’m surprised I’m even standing up here.

That she would consider me a good friend after our rocky start.

But coming to Eastbrooke allowed me to find myself.

To do the things I wished I had done at my old school.

To use my conscience and do what’s right, regardless of what’s popular.

To stand up for myself.

And I think I’ve had a good effect on Peyton and Whitney too. They seem to be on even ground, and, since Whitney started dating Shark, she hasn’t acted like the bitchy Alpha she once was.

I think he’s good for her.

She sets her laptop on the podium.

After her little speech, we’re going to show the video Riley made for the Social Committee highlighting our year so far. The Welcome Back carnival and dance. The Homecoming festivities. The Greek and French weekends.

She starts with, “I’d just like to say a few words from the Social Committee and then I have something fun planned for you.”

She goes on to thank the Social Committee members, the supporting clubs . . .

I tune out her voice, because I know her speech by heart.

She made us listen to it over and over.

Instead, I’m staring at Aiden.

Okay, really, I’m staring at his fly.

Imagining.

Anticipating.

“Before the presentation starts . . .”

My ears perk up as Whitney deviates from the script.

“I hate to have to do this, but something has come to my attention, and I feel compelled to share it with you, as is my obligation, per the Eastbrooke code of conduct.”

She uses the remote to make the screen behind us roll down from the ceiling.

Now she has my full attention, because this suddenly feels a lot like the day at lunch when she sent the texts to all of Chelsea’s friends.

Only it’s a lot more public.

The dean and most of the faculty is here.

A few of the parents.

Is she going to do something else to Chelsea?

Whitney flips open her laptop and Peyton, who is still holding my hand, digs her fingernails into me.

I glance at her and see that her face has gone completely white.

I follow her eyes toward the podium.

Ohmigawd.

Ohmigawd.

Ohmigawd.

No.

I can’t believe this is happening.

I look at the pictures Whitney is getting ready to flash across the screen.

No.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Not here in front of everyone.

My heart sinks, and I get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I remember what she said to me that day at the lunch table.

How Peyton surprised her.

Peyton lets out a little whimper as the screen finishes unrolling.

Whitney was only nice to us because she was planning to destroy Peyton the way Vanessa destroyed Mandy.

Peyton is nothing like Mandy. She didn’t do anything mean and calculating. She was hurt and needed comfort when she turned to him.

I look out into the crowd and see the boys’ soccer coach and remember how Whitney specifically asked him and his wife, who is now five months pregnant, to chaperone.

She wants to destroy them both.

Right here, in front of everyone.

I can’t let it happen.

I can’t let intimate sexual photos of an underage Peyton be flashed across a screen in front of the whole school.

Not to mention what it would do to Coach Kline’s life and his wife’s.

Just as Whitney is ready to start the slideshow, I move quickly, dropping Peyton’s hand and grabbing the remote out of Whitney’s.

And it’s at that moment that I know what I have to do.

Even though I shouldn’t.

Even though it will ruin everything for me.

I have to do this for my friend.

I turn to a stunned Peyton. “Why don’t you take Whitney’s computer and put it somewhere safe? Photos aren’t necessary. I’ll tell everyone the truth.”

Peyton gives me a confused look, then takes a shaky step, grabs the laptop, and walks offstage.

I'm left with a crowd of students wondering what I lied about.

Whitney opens her mouth in protest, so I take the microphone from her too.

I notice a small group of reporters have moved in front of the stage.

Not only was Whitney going to tell the school, she brought in the local press.

I start telling every lie I've told since I got here.

I look at Riley and confess. “My name isn't Keatyn Monroe.”

Then I find Aiden’s eyes in the crowd. “I did recognize you as the goalie that day when you asked.”

Then Dawson. “I didn’t leave my Mercedes at home because of the snow.”

Then Maggie and Annie. “My parents didn’t move to France or delete my social media. I didn’t get in trouble at home, and my photos didn’t get lost when I synced my new phone.”

I speak directly to Annie. “I have seen every one of Abby Johnston’s movies. We do have the same mannerisms, and our voices are so similar even Tommy can’t tell them apart. And that’s because I'm her daughter.”

Cameras start flashing, so I hold my hand strategically in front of my face.

“I came here because . . .”

I want to tell them why. But I realize I can’t.

Not yet.

I can’t put them in danger.

I won’t.

I know that I don’t have until March with Aiden anymore.

That his time bomb app just went off.

My biggest problem is the reporters, not my friends.

Because if they announce that I’m here, Vincent will come.

And I can’t do that to Eastbrooke.

To the place I love so much.

I’ve been stalked and kissed and dated and loved, but now I can see it clearly on their faces.

Hate.

I hear the big metal doors behind me close and know that Peyton has made it safely out of the ballroom with the laptop.

I hate to do it, but I need to tell my friends one more lie.

Just one more lie.

And in order to do it, I’m going to have to give the performance of my life.

But I’ll do it because I love them.

I stand up straighter, jut my chin out, and become the cold, uncaring bitch who takes whatever she wants from whomever she wants because she thinks she’s entitled to it.

I peek through my fingers, finding Aiden.

He’s the one I have to convince more than anyone.

I smirk, looking at him like he’s a piece of trash, not worthy of my time, then shrug. “I came to Eastbrooke because I wanted to see if I could act. To see if I could pretend to be someone else. I lied because . . . Well, because I could. Because I’m a good actress.”

Aiden darts off the dance floor.

I turn around, my eyes following him.

Wanting to talk to him.

To tell him I’m sorry.

To tell him this isn’t how I wanted him to find out.

My hand reaches out toward him.

He shakes his head at me, puts his hand up in the halt position, pushes his back against the exit door, and walks straight out of my life.

Tears spring to my eyes as Whitney grabs my elbow, pulling me close to her.

“Very slick,” she says. “And very interesting. But don’t worry, I have backups of the photos. Peyton’s not getting out of this.”

I hold my head high, still in bitch mode. “Yeah, she is. Because it just so happens, I have a few photos of my own.”

I reach down, take my phone out of my clutch, click a few buttons, and send her the photo where she’s lying across Coach Steele’s desk.

When the picture pops up, the smug look slides off her face.

I wrench my arm away from her.

“If you ever try to hurt Peyton or any one of my friends again. If any of those photos ever show up anywhere, I will show these photos to the whole school. I’ll tell them how you couldn’t get Camden by sleeping with him, so you settled for his brother. I’ll tell them that your relationship was a sham.”

“What do I care? I’m going to college.”

I give her a smug, bitchy smile. “Because I’ll also send them to every Ivy League school you applied to. Camden kept everything. And there are hundreds of pictures and screenshots for me to choose from. I could release one a week for the rest of your life. If you wait until we’re older, then I’ll send them to your boss. Your parents. Your friends. Your husband. Because you can bet on this. If those photos ever see the light of day, I will destroy you.”

For the first time since I’ve known her, Whitney looks scared.

She nods at me in understanding, puts her head down, and slinks off the stage.

Still shielding my face, I head off the stage toward Cooper.

I can tell he’s pissed.

“What the fuck was that? What the hell were you thinking? There are reporters here. We’ve got to get you out of here now.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no, Cooper. I’m not going anywhere. Help me out by rounding up those reporters. I need to talk to them.”

As he goes off to speak to the reporters, Annie walks up to me and says, “I thought you were different. You made me believe that nice girls could be popular. I’ve mentioned your resemblance to Abby Johnston quite a few times. We saw her in New York! It would’ve been so easy for you to tell me the truth. Which means it was all just a mean game to you.” She grabs Katie and pulls her into the conversation. “Katie and I are in agreement on this. We’re not friends anymore. Although I doubt we ever were.”

Her and Katie march away as I recoil slightly.

I wasn’t expecting that from them.

I want to go after them and say I’m sorry.

But I can’t.

I turn around and stare at the door Aiden just walked out of.

I want to chase him.

Beg him for forgiveness.

Tell him the rest of the truth.

But as I see Cooper and the dean herding the reporters into a room, I know that I can’t do that either.

I remember Grandpa once telling me, Sometimes you can’t find yourself until you’re lost.

I thought it was just another silly Southern saying.

But I get it now.

I was lost.

And, somehow, throughout this whole ordeal, I found myself.

I know exactly who I am.

And if Aiden is the boy of my dreams . . .

If he really is my moon boy . . .

My fate.

Then he’ll understand.

Someday.

The End

BOOK 6: GET ME

The final book in The Keatyn Chronicles Series.

Release date: August 30, 2014