“Rose.” His chest rotated towards me once we’d hit a stoplight. “Look at me for like, two seconds, will you?”
I did. His face was surprisingly tranquil, though he was biting his lip— something Race and Preston usually did when they were nervous. Was that what Hayden did when he was nervous? If so, what was he nervous for?
“What?” I managed to ask.
“I’m not going to hurt you. So will you settle down and actually sit in your seat properly? Jeez, you are going to get me a ticket at this rate.” He replaced both hands on the wheel, picking loose rubber off the zebra cover. How dare he pick rubber off my zebra cover. “If I knew you were going to go berserk I would’ve just had your dad pick you up after all.”
I sunk in my seat. My heart rate started to return to normal, and I repeated, “Why’d you come get me?”
He pursed his lips. “You, um… you like fast food at all?”
“What the heck kind of question is that?”
“I told you. I want to talk to you.”
“And you want to do it… over lunch?” My brows floated up. Wow. He actually suggested something normal.
“Yes. That’s sort of what I hoped. Is that alright with you?”
“Oh. Uhhh.” Nerves never helped anyone’s stomach, and they certainly were making it clear I was not hungry. But… “I guess—I guess that’d be alright. Long as you aren’t trying to poison me.”
He gave a tired laugh, flashing his flawless smile. “Really, Rose. Stop acting like I’m trying to kill you.”
I shrugged, semi-waving my white flag. He has one chance, I decided then and there. He blows it, sucks to be him. He probably would, of course. It was only a matter of time. Men were ticking time bombs for catastrophe—or so says mom. But until then…
One chance.
We pulled into Wendy’s about a block away from the shop. We didn’t speak as we got out of my car and I didn’t say thank you when he held the door for me as we entered the burger joint. His behavior was getting weirder and weirder to me. Wendy’s was—to my amazement—not crowded yet, though once the after-school parking lot unjammed, things would be buzzing. I gave it half hour.
I ordered myself a salad and a frosty, sure I wouldn’t be able to handle much more than that. Hayden surprised me again by not only ordering the same, but paying for the whole bill when I wasn’t paying attention. When we got our trays, he led me to an empty table in the back by the windows. We sat across from each other.
“What’s up with you today?” I had to ask. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He pulled the top off his frosty, eyelashes down. I never noticed how thick his lashes were before… I’d always liked guys with good lashes. “You know, we didn’t really get off to a good start,” he stated. “I know a good portion of that is my fault. I made you upset last week. Then my legal papers came along and I know those freaked everyone out at the shop.” He swallowed a spoonful of chocolate ice cream before meeting my gaze. “So… I want to know if we can start over.”
My eyes grew rounder. “You want—you mean, you want to start over clean? Like, we never knew each other before now?” Like I never knew he was creepy, crabby, and overall totally bizarre? I had to think about such a request.
“I’ll be nice. I promise.” He smiled.
I blinked. Was he trying to flirt with me? “Alright. Fine.” My eyes were back to slits as I spoke. Boys only flirt when they want something. Was amends all he was after here? “But I think it fair to warn you, I only do stuff like this for maybe one out of every hundred men. Consider yourself lucky.”
He chuckled. “Well, then. Hi, my name’s Hayden.”
“Hi, I’m Rosalia.” I waited to see if he’d hold out his hand. I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that he’d rejected my handshake that first day at work. But again, he didn’t seem to be thinking along the same lines.
“Nice to meet you, Rosalia.” He opened up his fork instead. “Do you have a nickname?”
“Rose,” I answered. “My friends call me Rose.”
“Not Rosie?” He suppressed a grin while pouring ranch over his salad. I think there was a batting of lashes there for a second, but only I would’ve caught that. If I’d have been Chanel, I’d never have realized he was teasing me.
“No. Only family members and my girl friends get away with calling me Rosie. You will call me Rose.” I opened my spoon and dipped into my vanilla frosty. The first bite melted in my mouth like snow, only creamier.
“I see.” He smiled, stabbing at his greens and smearing the ranch. “So, Rose, how’s your day going?”
“Ok, now you’re freaking me out again.”
He sighed. “Maybe I should ask how you liked the trip then?”
“It was very strange. And uh, yeah, why’d you even go? You didn’t ride with us, you didn’t talk to anyone—”
“I talked to you,” he defended instantly. “I talked to your dad and some of his friends, and I went on the night ride with all of you.”
“But you weren’t real intent on being around us,” I countered.
He pushed his tongue around the inside of his cheek, obviously struggling with some inner thought. Forking at his abandoned croutons, he pushed them into a little pile. I just chewed on a lettuce leaf, waiting.
“I went,” he started, “to make sure all you girls were going to be safe.”
That lettuce started sticking to my throat. “W—What?” I choked. That was not the answer I was expecting.
“I went to keep an eye on all of you just in case, oh I don’t know, someone ended up showing there that shouldn’t have. Someone that could cause trouble for people.” His eyes flickered upward. “Like you.”
I stilled, trying to think something other than, wth? My eyes didn’t leave his as I slowly ate a spoonful of frosty, buying me some time. Someone who would cause trouble?
“Who are you enquiring?” I’d figured he was the only trouble any of us had cared about. Even then, I’d been more worried than most. “Hayden, we were a huge group. Nobody would’ve messed with us.”
His brows furrowed again. “That’s a shallow thought.”
“How am I being shallow? It’s simple logic! What idiot is stupid enough to come marching into a camp of fifteen, sixteen people and cause trouble?”
“Ok, let me put it this way for you.” He dropped his fork, crossing his arms over the table. “Say there’s this guy, right? We’ll call him, uh, Predator. Say Predator’s really dangerous. He preys on younger women—don’t look at me like that, Rose, I’m not talking about me! Jeez, just listen.
“Ok, so say Predator sees this girl one morning when he’s out walking the streets and decides she’s his next target. Now this girl doesn’t know him, nor does she have any idea he exists or that he thinks she’s pretty and smells… good,”—he struggled with that word a bit—“and he wants her.
“Now, say there’s another guy. We’ll call him… Blocker. Say Blocker’s standing in the way of Predator because he knows what he’s capable of, and he doesn’t want to see another girl end up like Predator’s other victims—uhhh… Rose? You’re glazing over. Are you ok?”
I snapped out of the trance I’d gone into. For an instance, I felt like Patrick Star off of SpongeBob, staring into space with drool coming down my face. I was so lost. “Yeah, I’m going to be honest and say you lost me. Are you trying to tell me you’re stalking me because I smell good, or am I completely missing the point?”
He laughed and rubbed his face, then expelled a groan. “No. You’re… you’ve sort of got the gist of it. Only, I wasn’t talking about me. I would never purposely hurt you.”
“So, are you saying—” I cut off. If he wasn’t talking about himself, there was only one other character in his little story.
Wait a second.
“Are you saying… someone else is stalking me?”
His fingers curled into fists on the table. “It’s a possibility.” His answer was hard, colder than our f
rosties. “Rose, I can’t tell you much—it could put you in real danger—but I’ll tell you that I’ve known him long enough to predict his patterns. I can usually give an accurate guess as to what’s going on in his head. He’s a real womanizer, always looking for the next best thing.”
I swallowed. His expression was gesturing toward the inevitable. “So, I’m the next best thing?”
“I had a hunch right before the trip that he was following you. That’s why I cornered your dad the day before, got him talking about his weekend plans. I knew if I could get him talking about the trip he’d whip the offer out to come along.” He gave me a cricked smile while adding, “I knew you’d be pissed, but I can tell you it was worth it, and I’m glad I went.”
I sat there, trying to collect everything coming out of his mouth. It was just so not what I’d imagined us talking about in the car. I thought this conversation would be aimed at us, like me getting answers to some of my questions about him, questions I hadn’t asked this weekend. I’d never seen our conversation going this direction at all.
I was being… stalked?
“Um.” I was trying to remember if I spoke English. “Ye… Uh, Hayden, I’m sorry. Do you realize how nuts you sound right now? I mean, can I ever have a normal conversation with you and not feel weird or confused?”
“Ha, ha. Probably not. I’m not exactly normal.” He smiled a second. A very tight smile. “Anyway, I’m telling you this so you’ll be careful. I think I can get rid of him for you, but in the meantime you need to be cautious. Don’t go out after dark, don’t go anywhere alone, don’t talk to strangers… the basic kiddy rules you probably learned in kindergarten.”
I lowered one eyelid. A memory jumped out at me just then, a memory I didn’t even summon. The shadows. Outside the tent on our last night. Mentally I’d accused Hayden, but there was still one missing suspect…
Oh. My. Gosh.
“Did he follow us to San Bernardino?” I demanded.
Hayden hesitated. “Yes.”
“Did you chase him? On our last night?”
“… How’d you know about that?”
“He tried to come in the tent,” I recalled, and the images gave me goose bumps. He’d been so silent. “When we all went to bed the night before we left.”
Hayden leaned back in his chair. “You were awake.”
“So, did you make him go away? No.” My gaze fell to the carpet. “If he’d have gone away you wouldn’t be telling me this right now.”
He grimaced. “I was hoping to keep you out of this, yeah. I had no problem getting him out of San Bernardino, but he specializes in skulking around Los Angeles these days. It might take me a little longer.”
My nails tapped the table. I was turning into Patrick again, so I shook my head. “But why me? Have I ever seen him before? Does he—how does he know who I am?” I had so many questions all of a sudden, now that this was making a molecule of sense. Los Angeles was filled with beautiful women, yet I was the target?
“He prefers to not be seen.” Hayden finished the last of his frosty. “I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen him.”
“How does he know me then? If we’ve never met… what, does he just pick up on random girls like we’re on radar or something?”
“Sort of.”
“… Huh.” This was getting creepy. It was time to move the subject forward. “So I’m being stalked. Why are you so keen on protecting me? I don’t understand why you care. You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. Jeez, Rose. And I’m protecting you because…” He set the cup down. Looking out the window, his expression grew pained. “Because his finding you was my fault.”
12) Predator
“Y
our fault?” I said it so loudly the couple sitting kitty-corner looked back at us. Leaning forward, I whispered, “Do I want to know why
it was your fault?” “Because he saw you… the day I started work.” Hayden twirled his frosty cup, like he was nervous. “He follows me, too, but not for the same reason he does you. I can’t tell you why he’s been trying to follow me, except that I’m the only one who can put any kind of roadblock in his way.”
“The cops know about this guy then, right?” I scrutinized.
“No. And it wouldn’t matter if they did. They can’t stop him.” I pursed my lips. “I have to disagree with that. Enough cops, you could bring
down one man.”
“One man,” he scuffed. There was something eerie about the way he said it. “You sound like he’s invincible.” Which was naturally impossible. Even the
president wasn’t physically bulletproof. “Don’t you think you should be telling my father about this? More men on alert would probably… what?”
Hayden was glaring. “Rose.”
The hair on my neck stood up. “Yeah?”
“The reason you’re sitting here with me at this table right now, is so I could tell you this,” he stated. “This was meant for my ears and your ears only.”
“Why are you always so secretive?” I spat, my temper bursting forth. “If I’m really in danger, shouldn’t my dad and the shop know? Or are you really trying to play me into some psycho joke?”
He looked taken aback, and I realized what I’d just said. I slouched in my chair. “I’m sorry. That was… I didn’t mean that. You’re not a psycho. I’m just a little wigged out.”
He turned apologetic. “I don’t blame you. You should be scared. This is a big deal. I just think this should be kept between me and you… If you get other people involved, you’re thinking it’ll warn him off, right?”
“I know I’d be intimidated if I was trying to get to someone,” I said.
“Ah, well that’s where you’re wrong. The more that are involved, the worse things will get. By involving the whole shop, you put them in danger as well. They’ll protect you… and he’s not afraid of a challenge if it means winning a prize.”
I dipped a large lettuce leaf in my ranch, swirling it a moment. A prize. I dropped the leaf, no longer hungry. All this info was overflowing in my brain, drizzling down to fill my stomach.
“I’m almost done.” Hayden caught me fidgeting.
I gave the window a reluctant glance. “Is he out there right now?” I didn’t see anyone suspicious, unless nanny at the crosswalk was hiding under a disguise.
Hayden looked outside, scanning. “No. I don’t think so.”
“How long has he been following me?”
“Not very long. Less than a week.”
“… Will he follow me home?” I couldn’t bare the thought.
Hayden shrugged. “Just lock your doors and windows. Do you have any metal in your house?”
I gave him a funny look. “Metal?”
“Yeah. Metal, iron, anything?”
“Um, probably. The knives in the kitchen are stainless steel.”
That seemed to please him. “Good. Keep one by the window tonight before you go to sleep.”
A shiver ran up my spine. “And what am I supposed to tell dad if he sees it? I’m expecting burglars?”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Just, do it.”
I sighed. Standing up, I grabbed my trash and walked it to the garbage.
He was behind me two seconds later with his own. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. Extending my purse to me he added, “I’ll deal with him. I just wanted you to be aware.”
I nodded, reaching out to take my bag. My cheeks warmed for some reason as our hands brushed, and I lead the way out Wendy’s back door. As we crossed the parking lot, I tried not to think about how nuts the guys were going to go when I arrived at the shop, our former enemy at my heels.
*
The sun blazed through the windshield, making me hot and antsy. Come on, I thought, fingers thrumming the steering wheel. Come on, come on. What was taking Chanel so long to exit the bloody school? I would’ve said a traffic jam in the halls, but judging from the amount of students taking up the sidewalk and zipping by
me in their array of terribly hideous to terribly expensive cars, I was positive that indoor traffic had cleared.
My fingers sped up their rhythm. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. This was getting ridiculous. Even in high heels it didn’t take that girl long to walk from her class, which I happened to know was right by the backdoor.
I was digging for my cell when her skinny, black-haired figure finally appeared. However, she wasn’t alone. Trent strode closely beside her, an Abercrombie model-wannabe in faded jeans, red-gold hair shining in the sun. The pair appeared to be laughing over something—something probably really pointless, knowing Trent, that Chanel didn’t actually get.
I hawk-eyed them as they meandered my direction. Chanel did her famous hair toss over the shoulder, flicking her apple-scented locks a few inches from his face. What a cheese. They stopped a few feet in front of my car and Trent hugged her, his hands slipping close to the G-line of her dress (G-line as in where her Gstring usually sits).
I wrinkled my nose. Slime bag.
Chanel didn’t seem to notice as she let him go. She skipped merrily to the car as he sauntered away with a smile on his face—like he was the hottest thing since Brad Pitt. How I couldn’t wait for the end of senior year. I made a mental note to toilet paper his fancy little hotrod on LDLP (Last Day, Last Prank).
As Chanel opened the door, I rearranged my face so I wasn’t sneering. “Hey, darling!” She squeaked as she got in.
“Hello,” I replied casually.
“Ugh, did you see him?!” She wailed, throwing her stuff behind her.
I started the engine. “Oh, I saw him.”
“Ugh, isn’t he cute? Sorry I took so long by the way, but we ran into each other in the halls and started talking and I totally lost track of time!”
“No worries.” Honestly? All of my worries were being stored up, waiting to burst like balloons on the big three one.
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