by Jillian Dodd
Vincent has no idea just how close he was to Keatyn. After a full day in the sun at the tournament with no sign of her, he gives up, and goes to the Hamptons.
Where she also happens to be.
Neither Keatyn nor Vincent knew the other was there. Can you imagine what would have happened if they ran into each other on the beach there?
Weeks later, she shows up online. Could it really be her? Could he somehow trace her through the Internet? He should have thought of that sooner.
He watches the video of her again, allowing it to arouse him. Allowing him to dream again of them together. He can’t give up. He must find his beloved Lacy and take her away from those trying to keep them apart. He’s also mad at Keatyn.
I walk quietly out into the hall and then into the concrete stairwell.
“What’s wrong?” I say when I answer Garrett’s call.
“Some things have been going on that I need to update you on. On your Facebook wall, people have been speculating about where you are.”
“You should just delete my profile.”
“We’re monitoring it. And some interesting things have come up. Specifically, there has been a lot of talk about rehab facilities. A little over two weeks ago, one was mentioned by name. A famous one in Malibu.”
“Okay?”
“A day later, their office was broke into. Files were searched.”
“I’ve heard that’s not uncommon. Paparazzi trying to get a story.”
“I agree. But then, nine days ago, another one was named. The one we sent the plane to in Utah.”
“Did it get broken into too?”
“Yes. And, a few days ago, another one in Arizona.”
“Have you been following him?”
“Yes, but he hasn’t left. He probably hired someone to do it.”
“Okay, so he’s still looking for me. Got it. I won’t do anything stupid.”
“There’s something else.”
I instantly panic. “Mom? The girls?”
“No. They’re all fine. It’s your friend, Cush.”
“What about him?”
“He, well, he left. He’s not at your school anymore.”
“Where is he?”
“There’s a message from him on your Facebook. On your iPad is a special icon that looks like the one on your phone only it’s orange. Hit that. Then log into Facebook. It’s a program that doesn’t allow your IP address to be tracked. Read the message. I’ll wait.”
I log on and take a deep breath. I have numerous messages and notifications, but I look for the one from Cush.
And open it.
Keatyn,
I came to your party because I had to apologize to you. Tell you I was sorry about what I said after the whole Mandy thing. That it wasn’t your fault.
I had something else to tell you too. It’s the real reason I came back. After all the plans we’d made, I felt like I owed it to you to tell you in person.
Here’s what I was supposed to tell you:
I decided to live with my dad and go to school in Oregon. I thought it would suck here, but it really doesn’t. I like coming home and having people in the house. Everyone here is really nice and I kinda met this girl. She’s sweet. You’d like her. She doesn’t care about being popular. It’s not that big of a deal here.
But here’s what happened:
I gave you the boots.
You loved them.
I wasn’t lying when I said they look like you, but I was lying when I said I bought them. I’m sorry, but my mom picked them out. She said they were a good brand and you would love them.
Then you kissed me, and I wanted to forget about Oregon.
I wanted to come back and pretend there was no one else.
I loved dancing with you again.
And then you dragged me off the dance floor and really kissed me. Told me you broke up with the surfer and that you loved me. I swear, Keatyn, you can wrap me around your finger like no one else can. I started making plans with you that I knew I couldn’t keep. I told you about prom because I wished it could be true.
But then I started feeling guilty.
Because I knew I was lying.
I told myself I would tell you the truth at your after party.
But then you cancelled the party and left.
I tried to call you. I tried to go to your house. I felt like I owed it to you to tell you in person, but I had to go.
I hope I can see you again someday.
And that you’re okay. You were the first girl I ever really cared about.
I just had to do what’s best for me. Go where it’s good for me.
I hope you’re somewhere good for you too.
Cush
Tears stream down my face, but I laugh at myself through them. At my own stupidity. I told a guy I loved him over a pair of boots. A pair of boots that I was convinced symbolized everything we could be. I’m such an idiot.
“I read it,” I tell Garrett. Trying not to sound like I’ve been crying.
“Are you okay? I remember you told me about how he loved all of you because of the boots.”
“Yeah, the boots his mommy bought. I feel so stupid, Garrett.”
“Don’t. When the right guy comes along, you’ll know it.”
An instant message pops up. It’s Cush.
Cush: Keatyn?
“Garrett? Are you on with me? Did you see Cush just messaged me. Can I talk to him?”
“Yes, I’m on with you. Be careful what you say.”
Me: Cush, yes. It’s me. I was just sitting here reading your message. And crying.
Cush: I’m sorry.
Me: I know. I’m glad you’re happy at your dad’s.
Up pops another instant message.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
“Garrett! Did you see that? Is that him? Is it Vincent?”
“I’ll try and track it.”
Cush: Where are you?
Me: I’m not supposed to tell.
Cush: Rehab?
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Me: I can’t tell . . . fuck it. You know how I told you there was family drama?
Cush: Yeah . . .
Me: You have to swear to me. Swear to me that you won’t tell a soul this. If anyone asks, you haven’t talked to me. Okay? You have to swear.
Cush: I pinky swear, Keatyn.
Garrett yells in my ear. “Keatyn, do not tell him! There’s more I need to tell you. It’s why I let you read his message. When Cush moved to Oregon, Vincent took a trip up there too. He visited Cush’s school. Told the faculty that he was moving there with his daughter. Asked if they had any other new female students. He even went to Cush’s house and knocked on his door. He looked liked he was asking for directions or pretending he had the wrong house or something. They spoke. Vincent went to one of his soccer games. Then he came back home. Cush is safe and he’s moved on, Keatyn. Let him stay that way.”
Cush: You still there?
Me: Yeah.
Tears continue to stream down my face and start dripping all over my iPad. How many lies am I going to have to tell? How could I have ever dreamed of going somewhere where no one knew me? I thought it would be so cool. A false name. A secret identity. So cool and mysterious.
I was so wrong.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Cush: So what happened?
Me: You know how your parents freaked about Mandy drugging you?
Cush: Yeah. They kinda blame you.
Me: They weren’t going to let you come back, were they? Even if you would’ve wanted to.
Cush: No. They weren’t.
Me: I’m in a kind of similar situation. I’m somewhere that’s supposed to be good for me too.
Conman1: Com
e out, come out, wherever you are.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Cush: Are you happy?
Me: I’m trying to be. It’s hard. So the girl you met there this summer. Are you with her?
Cush: Yeah. We’ve been going out since I came back. I’m sorry.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.
Me: I have to go.
Cush: I’m glad I got to talk to you. I’m sorry.
Me: I know. Bye, Cush.
When she doesn’t reply, Vincent worries he might be scaring her. That’s the last thing he wants. She needs to tell him where she is so he can come rescue her. So he takes a different approach.
Conman1: It was all just a misunderstanding. I really was trying to help. And even after everything, I still want to make a movie with you. Come home.
I’m trying hard to ignore the messages. I know that Garrett is watching what I say. But I can’t take it anymore. He ruined my life.
Me: So I’m curious. You were taking me to a van, going to drug me, kidnap me, then what?
She replied! But then he worries that he’s not really talking to her. That it’s someone else. That they are trying to trick him.
Conman1: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I thought you were in danger. Was just trying to help out a friend.
Me: Heard you’ve been checking out rehabs. You should seriously check yourself in. Get some help. You’ll only find me if I want to be found. Oh, and I’ve been fucking my way across Europe. Maybe you should come and get me.
I log off then throw my iPad across the stairwell and cry some more.
I cry and cry until I have no more tears.
I finally pull myself together and reach down to pick up my iPad. The front of it is shattered to pieces.
Kind of like my life.
My phone is still in my hand and I realize Garrett not only knows what I typed to Vincent, he also heard my meltdown.
“Are you still there?” I whisper into my phone.
“I am. I’ll send you a new iPad.”
“Thanks. Garrett?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to know anymore. Unless it has to do with my family. I don’t want to know. You were right, weren’t you? I’m never going to be able to go back home.”
“I’ve studied a lot of stalking cases, Keatyn. They don’t usually end well for the person being stalked. It doesn’t help that stalking is extremely hard to prove. Until they commit an actual crime, there is usually nothing that can be done. It’s even hard to get a restraining order, as you well know. It was really brilliant of Vincent to become friends with you. It makes all his stories for why he was around you seem plausible. You invited him to your party. He was trying to help you in the scuffle. You’d been drinking. You misunderstood what he said.”
“It was embarrassing when the police breathalyzed me. When they took my statement, I was hysterical. And I threw up twice.”
“I know. It also didn’t help that you were well over the legal limit and he was stone-cold sober. Even though James was on your side, he didn’t know you invited him to the party. But I did. My people were in charge of the guest list. That’s why I didn’t push too hard. I figured they would let him go, but I was quite shocked to hear the extent of your relationship.”
“I thought I had the world all figured out. I was going to become an actress and make a movie with Vincent. I was going to love Cush. How could I have been so wrong? I always thought I was good at reading people. Now I’m almost afraid to be friends with anyone.”
“Have you made friends there?”
“I think so, but I don’t really trust my judgment anymore. And, right now, I just feel very alone.”
“Let’s talk about something positive then.”
“Is there anything positive?”
“Yes. I finished the security on your loft. And I have to say, good job. It’s an amazing place. It’s warm and comfortable, yet gracious and grand. It’s just like you. I know you told me you were having a hard time figuring out who you are, but you need to stop thinking you have to be one way or another. You can be all of the things you are at the same time. Picture yourself as a gemstone. You have lots of facets. Someday, you’ll find a man who loves every one of those facets and, by then, some boy named Cush will only be a fond memory.”
“Thanks, Garrett. And I changed my mind. I do want to know. I need to know. Even if it sucks. So, those messages he was sending me. Were you able to track them?”
“No. He’s got something like we do that makes it difficult to trace. If we’d had more time, maybe, but I looked over what he said. There was nothing incriminating. He didn’t bite when you brought up the van.”
“Do you think I really pissed him of with what I said at the end?”
“I sure hope not.”
Vincent reads her message again.
Heard you’ve been checking out rehabs. You should seriously check yourself in. Get some help. You’ll only find me if I want to be found. Oh, and I’ve been fucking my way across Europe. Maybe you should come and get me.
He throws his iPad across the room, fuming.
He notices tears rolling down his cheeks.
He brushes them away in frustration then goes to pick up the iPad, his only source of contact with her.
He discovers the front of it is shattered to pieces.
Like his life is without her.
A few days later, he replaces the iPad and discovers that the surfer added a new photo of Keatyn. She’s on the beach in front of the shrimp shack named Buddy’s. He knows the place well, as he took some photos of her and the surfer eating lunch there the day of her birthday party. He checks the photo he took that day. She’s wearing the same bikini top and cutoff shorts. Her hair is braided the same. She’s got on the same sunglasses.
The only difference is that in this photo, she has the shorts unzipped and one side slid down exposing her hip. What he couldn’t see from his vantage point that day is staring him in the face now—a fresh tattoo.
He blows the photo up to discover a pair of Chinese symbols.
After meticulously going through the surfer’s photos on his new fan page, he discovers that the boy has a matching tattoo on his wrist. They are tied together. Matt and Lacy.
And he needs to be tied together with them.
In the script.
And in life.
He studies all the photos the surfer has of his friends and memorizes their faces. The next morning, he gets up early, checks to see where the best waves are in the area, loads up his board, and heads there. He quickly spots the one named Mark and when they are done surfing he talks to him, mentioning he knows Brooklyn and Keatyn.
Mark smiles and animatedly tells him how Brooklyn is off living his dream, surfing with the pros. How his dad got him some sponsors and he committed to giving it a shot this year. How Matt knows he’s going to do awesome, dude.
“I was wondering about his tattoo. Do you know where he got it? I’ve been thinking about getting one but don’t want to go just anywhere.”
“Oh, dude, you need to see Tiny. He’ll do you up good. Man is a true artist.” He flashes his own tattoos as do some of the other guys. All done by Tiny.
“Thanks, I’ll look him up. By the way, what does his tattoo mean?”
“Chaos, man. Like life is divine chaos.”
Vincent waves goodbye, loads up his board, then sits in his car and thinks.
Chaos.
How fitting.
He grabs his phone, finds the tattoo artist, and goes straight to his shop.
He only has one tattoo. His body is his temple, and he takes extremely good care of it. He’s never understood how people could mar their skin up with numerous tattoos and piercings.
But as he walks in Tiny’s shop, he understands the need—the conviction—one must possess to commit. And he is fully committed.
&n
bsp; He discovered that Tiny is not at all small, as his nickname would suggest. Vincent wants him and only him to do the tattoo, and he waits for two hours while the man finishes up a portion of large tiger covering a man’s shoulder. The shop is clean, at least. And he understands what Mark meant by the man being an artist. The walls of the shop are covered with amazing designs, some small and simple, others grand and colorful.
“Well, what are you thinking?” Tiny asks him.
Vincent shows the man the photo of Keatyn, although he has it zoomed into the tattoo.
“I did this,” Tiny says.
“Yes. I was referred.”
“Why do you want the same thing?” he asks curiously as he takes the phone from Vincent and makes the photo smaller, seeing Keatyn at the beach.
“We’re friends,” Vincent replies. “It just so happens that I’ve always wanted a chaos tattoo myself. She suggested I come see you.”