Текст книги "Stalk Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Tuesday, June 28th

Know when it’s right.

3pm

When I picked Brooklyn up from the airport, we were one of those couples who everyone hates. The couple that stands there making out because they are finally together. We spent our first days exploring the beaches near the house. It seems like when I’m here with my family, we tend to go to the same places over and over.

We spent days driving a little convertible around, lying in the sand, swimming in the ocean, and kissing.

Lots and lots of kissing.

We found a place to rent surf boards, and we played around in the water. We walked to little cafés and shopped in quaint stores. We spent our nights drinking wine from the wine cellar and kissing.

He found an old book of poetry in the library and recited poetry to me.

I was as happy as I’d ever been, but I sort of felt like I was hiding a secret.

Last Brooklyn had heard, I was a virgin.

In our short time together, Cush and I had quite a bit of sex, and I’ve been trying to decide if I should tell Brooklyn about it or not.

About a week after he arrived, we’re swaying on a hammock in the back yard doing nothing but holding hands and watching the clouds go by.

“Look at that one,” he says. “It looks like a parrot.”

I laugh. “It looks more like a horse to me.”

He leans in and kisses me. It’s weird how even though kissing is kissing, every guy you kiss feels different. When Sander and I kissed, it was sweet. Mostly friendly. When Cush and I kissed, it was fiery. When Brooklyn and I kiss, it feels like a day at the beach.

Easy, breezy, soft kisses.

Kisses that warm my heart.

Kisses that make me feel like a girl in love.

I can’t deny it. I’m in love with him.

I have been for a long time.

Even though we’ve been together day and night, and even slept in the same bed, we haven’t had sex. Brooklyn says we should wait until it’s right.

But I know he’s waiting because he thinks I’m still a virgin.

We’re leaving tomorrow and driving from where we are now on the eastern coast of France to the west coast. If we drove straight through, it will take us about nine hours, but we’ve decided to not be in a hurry and stop anywhere that looks interesting. The trip might take us days. Once we hit the west coast, we’ll go from Seignosse, to Hossegor, to Biarritz. Then we’ll cross into Spain and visit Zarautz. After that, we’re going to the Canary Islands. Staying a week at a resort on Fuerteventura and then another week on Lanzarote. Basically visiting what are supposed to be some of Europe’s best spots to surf.

“So you keep telling me that you want to wait for sex so that it will be right. What’s going to make it right?”

He cups my cheek in his hand. “I don’t think you should be in such a hurry to grow up. I think we’ll both know when it’s right.”

“What do you mean, in a hurry to grow up? I’m almost seventeen. I’m pretty much grown.”

“You know what I mean. You want your first time to be special. To mean something. Don’t you?”

I let out a big huff of air. “I did, yes.”

“What do you mean, you did?”

“I mean,” I sigh. “Never mind. I do want our first time to be special and to mean something.”

He moves his hand off my face quickly, like all of a sudden my skin burned him. “Our first time, but not your first time. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“That’s correct; it won’t be my first time.”

He sits up, rocking the hammock. “Who did you have sex with? Damian?”

“Oh, gosh, no. He wouldn’t. He’s writing a song about us. He knows I’m in love with you.”

I stop talking. My stupid mouth hangs wide open.

Shit.

I so did not mean to say that. I’ve been waiting for him to say it.

I clamp my mouth shut.

He looked mad before, but now he looks softer.

“You’re in love with me?”

I shut my eyes tight and cover my face with my hand.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I can feel the tears prickling my eyelids.

I am so freaking embarrassed, but I nod my head yes. Then I get brave, open my eyes, and peek at him through my fingers.

He pulls my hand off my face. “Why are you crying? Do you not want to be in love with me?”

“No. I don’t know. I just didn’t mean to say it. I don’t want it to be some dumb crush. I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know what this is. What we are.”

He leans down and kisses me.

“What we are is in love, Keats. I love you too.”

“Really?”

Now the tears really start falling.

He nods softly, and I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

He pulls me tightly into his chest.

“I’m sorry about us leaving you that night. I should have waited for you. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s the night it happened. I’m sorry. I thought I didn’t mean anything to you. That it was, I don’t know, just a hookup to you. I thought you were down there hooking up with other girls. Damian told me it was surfers. I’m really sorry. He told me he loved me and after your rejection, I needed to feel loved. I wasn’t in love with him at the time.”

“At the time? Does that mean you’re in love with him now?”

“No. I’m not.” Definitely not. Especially after he blamed me for what Mandy did.

“Was it that guy from the beach that day? The one that twirled you around?”

“Yeah. It was Cush. He’s who I was going out with.”

Brooklyn takes my hand in his and kisses it. “It’s not where you’ve been that matters, Keats, it’s where you end up that does.”

“Is that from a poem?”

“No, I think I just made that up.” He laughs.

“It’s poetic. You should write it down.”

“I might have to do that. Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

“Now that I’ve finally said it, I want to say it all the time. I love you.” He kisses me sweetly on the neck. “I love you.” He kisses my cheek. “I love you.” He kisses my forehead. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Wednesday, June 29th

Keats for my Keats.

7pm

 Our drive across France was supposed to be relaxed and fun. We stopped along the way for lunch, but Brooklyn seemed to be in a hurry.

When we were almost to the city of Bordeaux, I find out why.

He turns off the main road and onto a little lane. The countryside in this area is amazing. Rolling hills, rows of grapes growing from dark dirt, and green as far as the eye can see.

“So, my dad stays here and loves it,” he says to me with a grin. “When I told him we were headed this way, he booked us a special suite.”

And special was a good way to put it. The small luxury hotel was recently built of all recycled wood and finishes. Our suite is its own structure that sits on stilts over a pond. It has a cozy, cabin-like feel, a large deck for relaxing, and a big bed topped with luxury linens and a beautiful quilt. I’ve never stayed anywhere quite like this. The property also features a small bistro, a five-star restaurant, and an incredible spa.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell him.

“You’re beautiful.”

He kisses me and then leads me toward the bed.

He slowly unbuttons the white cotton blouse I wore today.

As it slides off my shoulders, he kisses my neck and whispers in my ear. “Nothing ever becomes real ‘til it is experienced.”

“That’s Keats, right?”

“Keats poetry for my Keats,” he says with a nod and a grin.

“So does that mean I finally get to experience you?”

He caresses my shoulder, kisses my neck, and then looks into my eyes. The way he looks is better than anything I ever scripted. Better than anything I ever imagined. I smile at him and wrap my arms around his waist.

He gently pushes my bangs out of my face and looks deep into my eyes. “You said when you did it before that you weren't in love with him. I've never been in love before either. So in a way, it's both of our first times.”

I fight the temptation to throw him on the bed. I’ve waited a long time for this. I want to savor it.

I pull his shirt up over his head and pepper his chest with teeny kisses.

He falls back onto the bed, pulling me on top of him.

I half laugh, half scream, but keep kissing his chest. I want to kiss every bit of it.

I work my way down to his abs. Run my fingers across them. Kiss them.

Then I unbutton his shorts. He quickly kicks them off, then flips me over so that he’s lying on top of me.

He kisses down my neck and runs his hands all over my body. Then he reaches behind me, undoes my bra, and kisses across my chest. I really don’t know how much more I can take. I move one of my boobs closer to his mouth, and when he finally complies, I let out a little gasp.

Screw savoring it.

I shove my hand between his legs and roughly rub the front of his boxers. He starts breathing a little more heavy, but doesn’t stop going slow.

He kisses down my stomach, stopping only to unbutton my shorts and slide them off, my panties coming off along with them. Then he kisses the rest of me.

My stomach.

Down my legs.

The insides of my thighs.

Which about drives me insane.

He even kisses the tops of my feet, the tips of my toes, then, finally, he stops going so incredibly wonderfully excruciatingly slow.

He kisses fast up my legs and slides his finger into me.

I pull him to my lips, run my fingers wildly through his hair, and kiss him frantically while I push his boxers off with my feet.

He stops for a second to roll on a condom and then . . . finally.

Thursday, June 30th

Come and find you.

9am

I wake up to Brooklyn running his hand gently across my face.

He smiles at me and says, “Last night was incredible. I'll never forget you, forget this perfect night.”

“Is that more Keats?” I tease.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. While you were gone, I was drowning myself in Keats poetry. I think I memorized half of what he wrote.”

“And I’ve been drowning myself in bad decisions. It’s a good thing you showed up.”

He laughs. “I’d say I showed up last night.”

“That you did. It’s true what they say. About it being better when you’re in love.”

“I do love you, Keats. I have for a while. I just wasn’t sure what to do about it. You were with Sander. Damian told me I should just come out and tell you. He thought you’d break up with Sander if I did. I didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be the cause of a breakup. I was so damn happy that night on the beach. You looked so beautiful in your dress. It took everything I had not to tell you then. To only kiss you on the cheek.”

“You told me I was desirable.”

He grins and kisses me. “You are, obviously,” he says as he rolls on top of me.

Brooklyn orders us breakfast, and we snuggle up in bed while we wait for it.

“So what do you think of France so far?” I ask him.

“It’s great. I miss home though. I miss our beach.”

“I’ve been thinking about not going home. About living here. Or traveling the world.”

“You kinda need to finish school first, don't you think?”

“I’ll do it like you did. Like, online or something. I don't want to go back home.”

“You can’t run away from your problems, Keats, because eventually they’ll come and find you.”

“Sure you can, and you should. I'm happy here. My problems aren’t here. Life is perfect.”

“Would you be happy if I wasn't here?”

“Not as happy.”

“Damian told me why you didn't want to come home. About your friends.”

“I feel like I made a deal with the devil. I grew up on movie sets. I've always scripted versions of my life. Like how I thought it should happen. What I wanted to happen. I even wrote scenes where you told me you loved me. When you told me you loved me, it was nothing like the script. We were supposed to be on the beach in the moonlight. I always looked perfect and glamorous. In real life, I was crying when you said it. Life has not been following my scripts.”

“Life is messy. Like that quote we like.” He points to the necklace I had made for him last Christmas. The corded necklace has a charm of the Chinese symbol for chaos. “Life is divine chaos. It’s messy, and it’s supposed to be that way.”

I nuzzle my face into the side of his neck. “This doesn't feel like chaos.”

“But it is. Particles are colliding all around us.” He grins at me. “What about when our lips collide?”

I grin back. “I like when our lips collide. I liked when we collided.”

“Me too. Wanna collide again before breakfast?”

“Oh, I’m all for more chaos.”

“I love you, Keats.”

I reach under the covers. “I love your chaos.”

Breakfast is delivered too quickly for me to enjoy his chaos again.

I’m munching on a wonderfully flakey croissant when he says, “Damian told me about the girl too. How you think you ruined her life. You didn't. Life is all about karma. She did something not only mean but dangerous to your friend. She got bad karma back. She deserved it.”

“But what about Cush? Did he deserve it? He's a nice guy. He was really sweet to me.”

“You didn't do it to be mean.”

“No, but he still blamed me for it.”

“You weren’t even there, Keats. It wasn’t your fault. And karma is all about your intentions. Are they good or bad? If they are bad, you'll get bad back. Besides, you can't run away from karma. You need to be with your family. You need to finish school. We’re going back home as planned. You can see your friends at school and hang out with me every spare minute you have.”

“I guess I do have to go back for my birthday. Mom and Kym planned that big party.”

“What big party?”

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t talking to you then. They decided I should have a big bash for my seventeenth birthday. They’re renting out a club. Inviting most of my school. Pretty much everyone we know. I’m actually really excited for it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sounds fun.”

“Hey, you're the one that wants me to get back to reality.”

“Let’s forget about reality for the rest of today.”

We spend the entire day in bed. We nap, kiss, make love. He recites more poetry, and we talk about our futures. And then we decide that since our near future involves traveling to the beach, and we haven’t made any hotel reservations, that we should probably do so.

“I’m gonna go get my laptop out of the car and see if I can find an internet connection somewhere around here.”

“Okay. I'm gonna call my mom. I've texted her, but I haven't talked to her all week—plus, she kinda thinks we’re still at the house. Then I’m gonna shower and get ready for dinner.”

I can’t wait. We’re having a candlelit dinner on our private deck that overlooks the lake.

I call Mom. When she answers, I say, “Hey!”

“Wow. You already sound more mature. I feel like I haven't talked to you in years.”

“It’s only been a week, Mom.”

I hear Tommy talking in the background.

“Tommy says to tell you we all miss you. So how are things?” she asks in an odd, high voice.

“You seem really happy, Mom. Are you pregnant?”

She laughs. “No, I'm not. So you and Brook have been together in France for a while. So has he told you he loves you? Have you slept with him?”

“Mom.”

“Keatyn, I can tell by your voice the answer to both of those questions is yes.”

“Last night was the first time. How do you even know that?”

“Well you called me instead of texting me, so I know something’s going on. Plus, I can hear it in your voice.”

“Hmm. Weird.”

“Oh, honey, was it bad? Is that why you’re calling? That’s not unusual, you know. First times aren’t always that great.”

“I was drunk at a party my first time,” Kym says loudly from somewhere in the room. “It literally lasted six seconds. I counted. I mean most guys could ride a bull longer.”

I hear a whole bunch of people laughing.

“Ohmigawd, Mom, do you have me on speaker?”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, James says, “Well, my first time . . .”

“Stop! Please! My ears are bleeding! And it wasn’t my first time anyway. It’s all good.”

“What?!” Mom shrills. “What do you mean? Did you have sex with Sander and not tell me?”

Shit. Why can’t my brain ever edit my mouth?

“Take me off speaker, please.”

Tommy says, “Baby, it’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed. All of us have had sex.”

Kym laughs. “Some of us more recently than others.”

James starts coughing and laughing.

Kym says, “What? I’m in a slump. So, Miss Keatyn, did you and Sander do the deed or what?”

“No, we did not.”

I hear Mom suck in her breath. “Who then?!”

“It was Cush, okay.”

Kym whistles. “Good choice. That boy is a hottie.”

“Don’t say that,” Mom chimes in. “She dated him for like two days.”

“It was longer than that, Mom.”

“I’m still shocked. I thought we agreed you’d wait until you were in love.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t really my plan. Nothing like what I’d scripted. What can I say; my life hasn’t been following my scripts lately.” Well, that’s not exactly true. That night with Cush at the hotel was very much the way I had scripted it, but Mom doesn’t need to hear those details. She just wants to think I was in love. “He told me he loved me, doesn’t that count?”

“You were mad at Brook, weren’t you?” Tommy says.

“Well, yeah. It was after that party we came to.”

“Did you love him?”

“No, but I was tired of waiting for B. And when he ditched me and told me he was hanging with girls, I was just done. And it didn't suck. It was a little awkward, but it didn’t suck. And I'm kinda glad. It's not like B had been waiting for me.”

“Well, what matters now is that you're together. You sound happy,” Kym gushes.

“I am happy. He brought me to this beautiful vineyard outside Bordeaux, and we got this like private cabin thing, and it was perfect. Not the beach, but perfect.”

“Did he tell you he loved you last night, too?” Mom asks dreamily. I can tell she and Kym are getting all gooey over a love story.

“No, he told me a few days ago. I was dumb though. I cried.”

“Why did you cry?” Kym wants to know.

“I don't know. I accidentally said I love you. So I was embarrassed. But he was happy, and he told me too. So it was nice.”

“You’re being safe, right?” Mom asks.

“Yes, Mom, of course. We haven’t been in any big cities. I’m fluent in French, and I know how to not look like a tourist.”

Everyone bursts out laughing.

“What?”

Mom tries to stop giggling.

Finally Tommy says, “Safe. As in condom usage.”

“Oh, ick!”

“Ick?” Mom says. “Does that mean you’re not? Oh, honey, I know you think you’re in love, but you don't want a baby at your . . . ”

Oh, please make this conversation stop, or I may never be able to go home and face my family.

“Mom, and the rest of you, I’m going to say this once. We are being safe in all ways.”

“Good to hear, but when you get back, you need to go on the pill. Just to be extra cautious.”

“Fine.”

“So, wait,” Mom says. “Did you say you’re in Bordeaux? Keatyn Elizabeth, you can’t just go gallivanting all over Europe without telling me!”

“Yeah, well about that. It just sort of all fell together. Brooklyn and I decided to stay in Europe all summer. We have it all planned out. We’re going to visit some of the best surfing spots on France’s and Spain’s west coasts. Then we’re gonna hit the Canary Islands. Then, after that, Damian invited us to tour with him for a few weeks. I won’t be home until right before my party.”

“All summer? Don’t you think you should have asked me first?”

“Um, yeah, of course. But I figured you’d be fine with it. I know my way around, and like I said, we have it all planned out.”

“When did you decide this?”

“We just decided. We’re young, and how often are we going to get to take off a whole summer? Plus, honestly, I need some time away from my friends. Things have been crazy since Sander and I broke up.”

“Well, yes,” James says. “When you bring your boyfriend home drugged, it does seem so.”

I roll my eyes, but know they can’t see me, so I let out a big dramatic sigh to get my point across.

“So we’re going to surf a bunch of places, then in three weeks we’re gonna meet up with Damian and follow their tour. We’ll be in bigger cities, but we’ll be with Damian and everyone.”

I hear a bunch of quiet discussion, but can’t make out what they’re saying.

Finally, Tommy speaks. “We’re really not comfortable with that. You’re only sixteen.”

“I’ve traveled a ton. You know that. And I’ll email you all our travel plans if you want, and I’ll check in as often as you want. Please. Please.”

“Never beg, baby,” Tommy says. “You always want to at least pretend to have the upper hand when you’re negotiating.”

“How about if we send James to accompany you?” Mom says. “That would make me feel better.”

“Mom, you need James. What about the creeper? Aren’t you still scared about that? Have you heard from him since I’ve been gone? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“We did actually get another note from him. It said something again about me being a whore and how he is making plans. We don’t know what that means, but yes, I’d prefer to have James here with the girls. We’re keeping them pretty much under lock and key.”

“Mom! I have seen that guy from the picture before. I just realized it. The day I was at the mall and locked my keys in the car. While I was waiting for Nanny to bring me the spare set, I watched those protesters over by the beach. You know the ones that are protesting over the development being done. They have those horrible little fake graves with animal’s names on them. I think he was one of them. I remember thinking he should be more worried about his own white skin burning to a crisp in the sun.”

James says, “You’re right, he has been there. And around Malibu. The people who work at the yogurt shop recognized him too. We matched that photo to his driver’s license, and Garrett has had some people tail him off and on. So far, we haven’t been able to connect him to the letters though. And we’re still looking for other possible suspects. Garrett doesn’t want to focus only on him.”

“Mom! James!! Why didn’t you tell me all this?”

“We didn’t want to worry you, honey. We’ll tell you if you need to worry.”

“Okay, so what about this summer? About our plans?”

“I just don’t know, Keatyn,” Mom says.

“Mom, I don’t want to face my friends. And I might as well tell you now. I’ve been thinking about not going back to school. Like I might decide to be tutored again. Or do online classes or something.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to go back to school?”

“Just everything that’s happened. It’s not just what happened with Cush. It’s Vanessa and RiAnne. It’s just everything.”

“I don’t think you should run away from your problems. You need to be tough and work through them,” Tommy says.

Jeez, he sounds like Brooklyn.

Mom makes a hmmm sound, and I hear everyone whispering in the background. I hear something about the creeper and not having to worry about me. Mom finally says, “If it weren’t for what happened with Brandon, I’d probably make you come home. I miss you. But I think I might agree that putting a little distance between you and your friends isn’t a bad idea. So, if you promise to check in twice a day and email us an itinerary, and always answer your phone when I call you, I guess the answer is yes.”

“Yay! Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“Keatyn, I’m serious. I’m giving you an awful lot of freedom. Do not disappoint me.”

 “I won’t. I promise. Tell the girls I love them, and I’ll Skype them soon!”

“Be safe!” everyone says.

“Love you too,” Mom says. She’s quiet for a couple seconds. “I still can’t believe you slept with Brandon and didn’t tell me!”

“Goodbye, Mom.”