The Keatyn Chronicles: Books 1-3: (Stalk Me, Kiss Me, and Date Me)

by Jillian Dodd

  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: Come 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.

  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?

  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.”

  Friday, September 16th

  Naughty ways.

  7:40am

  Riley says, “So what was up with you being late for curfew last night?”

  I snap at him. “What’s going on is I’m up doing your history homework half the night while you snore away.”

  My eyes fill with tears. I’m tired and frustrated. As of last night my being here stopped being a new adventure and started being my new life.

  I still can’t believe I told Cush I loved him because of a pair of boots. A fucking pair of boots he didn’t even buy.

  “Something’s wrong with you. Are you nervous about today?”

  “For the away game?”

  “No, they announce Student Council officers today. Like at the end of this class.”

  “Oh, wow, I forgot about that.”

  “You look tired. Were you really up that late? Are you upset about something?”

  I want to tell him: Yes, I’m horrible. I want to throw myself into his arms and let him hug me.

  When I don’t say anything, he wraps an arm around me. I put my face in his chest and let out a little sob.

  “Don’t cry. If you don’t win, it’s no big deal. You’ll just have more time to hang out with me and Dallas. I think you’re gonna win. Not sure which office, but definitely win something. Dallas and I were doing some polling yesterday after we voted. It was looking good. Well, it was looking good until Dallas starting in on his new poll, which was bra colors and trying to guess cup sizes.”

  I let out a little laugh, but hug him tighter.

  He whispers in my ear. “He’s not very good at it. Now, me. I�
��m pretty sure I am physic. Or maybe it’s just from experience.”

  I back out of the hug and laugh. Then I fold my hands in prayer and close my eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Praying that the freshman girls will be protected from your evil ways.”

  “Naughty ways, maybe, but not evil, baby.”

  “I still don’t know why I let you call me baby. I should be taking offense at it.”

  “It fits.”

  “It’s what my stepdad calls all of us girls. It’s kinda comforting.”

  As we walk into class he says, “Good. Now give me your worksheet, so I can copy it quick.”

  At the end of class, the dean comes over the intercom. “Time to announce your new Student Council.” He goes through the freshman and sophomore announcements then says, “Your new Junior class president is Benjamin Roberts. Your new Vice president is Keatyn Monroe . . . ”

  Riley jumps up out of his seat, lets out a whoop, picks me up, and hugs me. I don’t get to hear who the other two reps are.

  It makes me feel happy.

  At least I’m actually following through and getting involved here.

  And it’s really not a surprise that I came in second to Benjamin.

  I mean he did promise an iPad in every hand. I think some president ran on that platform sometime in history, like maybe during the Depression? Did he promise a chicken in every kitchen, or a cow in every barn, something like that?

  A blur.

  11:30pm

  The rest of today is a blur. Six more classes, lunch, soccer, and lots of congratulations. I get my long-ass detention waved until tomorrow morning, since I have to get on the bus at five for the trip to the away football game. I talk excitedly with Maggie and Katie about tonight’s party then dance and cheer for the team.

  We lose, though.

  Badly.

  Now I find myself sitting on the bus next to Aiden. Don’t ask me how it happened. Clearly the fates have collided or something. I really tried to get on Dawson’s bus, but Coach told me it was full and to go get on the other one. And then Aiden had my arm and was guiding me on the other bus, toward the very back, and I was too worn out to resist.

  Dawson had a rough game and got sacked numerous times.

  Dawson: Why aren’t you on this bus?

  Me: I tried. Coach told me it was full.

  Dawson: I saved you a seat.

  Me: I tried to tell Coach that, but he wouldn’t let me on.

  Dawson: :(

  Me: I know. But I’m just gonna sleep.

  Dawson: Even though I’m not really in the mood to party, we do need to celebrate your victory, Keatyn MonROAR :) I have some tequila shots calling your name:)

  Me: Sounds fun <3

  Saturday, September 17th

  You can call me Shark.

  6am

  My alarm goes off at six. I’m, well, I want to say I am tired but, truth is, I’m a bit hung over. Dawson and I did celebrate last night. And I think I had maybe one too many shots. I wasn’t, like, raging drunk or shit-faced or anything, just pretty tipsy and—okay, fine, so maybe I was drunk. Just not hammered drunk in a bad, don’t-remember-what-happened way.

  Because I clearly remember what happened.

  I wanted to drag Dawson back to his room for some fun.

  But he told me no. That I was drunk.

  And then walked me home.

  I hit snooze three more times, then get up so I’m not late. And, while I’m thanking God that there is no dress code for Saturday detentions, I throw my hair in a ponytail, put on a ball cap, shorts, sweatshirt, and Uggs. I even stop to grab a latte, whole grain muffin, and some fruit.

  I’m eating it in the detention room at 6:55 and feeling very proud of myself for being early to detention.

  Which, now that I think about it, is extremely uncool.

  To my surprise, there are four other kids in Saturday detention, and when the teacher walks out to get more coffee, I ask what everyone did to get here.

  (I will point out that I didn't consider the fact that at this moment I am living a scene from The Breakfast Club.)

  There is Seth, But you can call me Shark. He got caught taking bets on the elections.

  "Oh, what were my odds?”

  “You were a long shot to lose, sweets. Legs like that, no way you'd lose.”

  Then there is Amanda. Amanda sorta looks like a bad girl: jet black hair in kind of a Joan Jett shaggy cut. I can't decide if she's trying to look rockerish or slightly goth. She’s funny as shit, though, and I instantly like her smart-ass wisecracks.

  Obviously, it was this talent that led her to detention. Turns out she fancies herself as an actress and is excited for drama tryouts, which are coming up in a few weeks.

  “You should totally try out,” she tells me. “We’re doing this comedy. It’s called The Bachelor Prince. It’s a reality show spoof, where two princes are in a race to see which one can find true love first. The one that wins gets to be King. There’s a part you would be so perfect for. There’s this sweet girl from Texas that really falls in love with the good prince, but then the bad prince tries to keep them apart. It’s not the lead, but it has a big impact on the show. Have you ever thought about acting?” Then she's a smart-ass to herself. “I mean, you do everything else.”

  I laugh to myself. “Yeah, I have. I’m in Drama class.”

  “You should totally try out,” she says.

  Then there’s a guy from the cross country team, who’s name I miss, that hazed a freshman. He tied his shoes together under the bleachers. Funny, if you ask me, and not that haze-worthy, but the kid fell down and knocked out a front tooth, so everyone was all freaked out about it.

  Then there is an overachieving junior named Marie, who is in my French class. She did actually fall asleep and miss curfew. She was in the library and, apparently, the librarian did not see her because she was working on a laminating project for something. For an hour. She is also mortified that she would ever find herself in detention as she has, “Never had one in my entire life!"

  “What about you?” she asks me.

  “Wait,” Shark says. “Let's guess and make some odds.”

  Everyone seems to think this sounds fun.

  And I'm curious to know what these people, who don’t me, think I would get into trouble for.

  After a lengthy discussion, these are the odds:

  3:1 Was caught in her boyfriend’s dorm room after curfew.

  “He is so dreamy.”

  6:1 Talked back to a teacher.

  2:1 Was caught in another boy’s dorm room,

  “I heard you were in some other boy’s room studying.”

  4:1 Got caught smoking weed.

  “Oh, I would think those odds would be lower. Doesn’t everyone from California do that?”

  “No, silly, she would have gotten kicked out for that.”

  “No, you don’t get kicked out. Just a short suspension.”

  8:1 Got lost trying to find her way back to her dorm.

  “I mean she is blonde and on the dance team.”

  “Hey, I'm also in the Student Council, the literary club, the French club and on the Social Committee.”

  “How did you get on the Social Committee?”

  “My teacher asked me to tutor someone.”

  “Who?” the girl from my class asks.

  “Aiden. Do you know him?”

  “Ohmigawd! Everyone knows Aiden,” Amanda squeals. “He's as hot as they come.”

  “So who's hotter: Aiden or Dawson?” Shark asks Amanda.

  “Oh, tough choice.”

  Shark turns to me and says, “I have new odds. Three to one that you’re going to break up with Dawson and end up with Aiden.”

  “You’re way off on those. First off, Dawson and I aren’t going out. We’re just sort of dating. Kind of.”

  Shark waves his hand at me. “Whatever you call it. You’re always together. Aiden’s cool though. He and I have a
few classes together, and he's very humble. Not the stuck up jock you'd expect. Just a couple days ago, we were talking about girls. I mentioned how last year he had quite a few girlfriends. This year he hasn’t had any. He says he's waiting for the dream girl.”

  “What do you mean, the dream girl?”

  “I don’t know, apparently someone he really likes but she doesn't like him back.”

  “No way. That's bullshit,” Amanda says. “How could a girl not like him back. I'd pay a lot just to sit and stare at those green eyes. And have you ever seen him playing soccer with no shirt on? Seriously, girls go crazy.”

  “So, who are the hottest guys here?” I ask.

  “Top five?” Amanda says.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Dawson, Aiden, Jake, Dawson’s not-so-little brother—what’s his name?”

  “Riley.”

  “Yes, he should be on there. And I’d say Logan. Oh, and maybe Blake.”

  The teacher comes back in the room and we all stop talking. He looks and me and Shark and says, “Your time is up. You can go now.”

  We walk out together and see Aiden sitting on a bench just outside the building.

  “What are you doing up here?” I ask him.

  “Oh, just thought I'd say hey.”

  Shark says, “Hey, man,” to Aiden and as he’s walking away, he says to me, “Odds just went up.”

  “You look cute,” Aiden says, swatting my ball cap. “I’ve never seen you in a hat before.”

  “I look gross.”

  “You always look beautiful to me,” he says in his dreamy way. “Last night on the bus was fun.”

  “I slept on your shoulder the entire way. How was that fun?”