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Jake squints his eyes at me. “That’s mean.”


I roll my eyes at him. “It’s different, Jake. I didn’t purposely exclude her. I didn’t invite everyone else in front of her and then tell her she wasn’t worthy of going.”


“Dude,” Dawson says to Jake. “You need to relax. We’re supposed to be partying.”


I look at Jake. “Are you mad because you think I excluded Whitney or because I didn’t invite you to the Mission: Impossible party?”


“The party sounds like it was a lot of fun.”


I feel bad. “Maybe we could all hang out sometime.”


Dawson giggles. “Fuck that. I’m not hanging out with her.”


“Dawson, be nice!”


“What do you expect, Jake? Keatie is right. Whitney wouldn’t have gone even if she was invited.”


“Maybe not, but I would have.”


“It was a couples’ thing that wasn’t planned in advance. It was completely off the cuff. We were supposed to have a girls’ weekend. Shop, drink wine, watch romance movies. Then we started doing shots and felt like a party. We only invited our Homecoming dates.” He keeps staring at me. “Next time I’ll invite you. Okay?”


“Thank you. And we need to talk about Homecoming. What are you planning?”


Dawson looks at me. “We haven’t really talked about the details, but I’ve made a few plans.” He leans over and kisses me. It’s a sexy kiss, full of tongue.


“We were talking about planning Homecoming?” Jake says, interrupting us.


“We’re just doing what everyone is,” I say. “The day’s festivities. Dinner. The Dance. Coronation. Then changing and going to the club.”


“Are you riding one of the buses to the club?”


I nod my head yes at the same time that Dawson shakes his head no. “We have to go to the after-party, Dawson. You’ll love my outfit.”


“I love everything you wear.” Then he says under his breath, “And everything you don’t.”


I kiss him again. Smoking makes me want to kiss. So I kiss him.


He pulls me over onto his lap and I kiss him some more.


Jake gets a frustrated tone in his voice and interrupts us again. “So how are you getting to the club?”


Dawson pulls his lips away from mine. “I got a limo for Keatie and me. Just the two of us.” He grins at me. “I also got us a hotel room.”


I run my fingers through his hair and snuggle up closer to his chest. “Really? That sounds fun. I like just the two of us.”


Jake lets out an audible sigh.


“What?” Dawson says to him.


“It’s hard to carry on a conversation when you keep making out.”


“Fine. Keatie, stop attacking me.”


I giggle, then do just that. Attack his neck with kisses while he tries to carry on a conversation with Jake.


“What are your plans, Jake?”


“I just thought we’d party together. It’s our senior year. We’ve gone to every Homecoming together.”


“We will be partying together. At the dance. The after-party. You and Whitney are welcome to come in the limo with us to the club if you want. We’re stopping at the hotel first. Changing. Which might take awhile. Going to the after-party. Then back to the hotel. I booked it for two nights, so we wouldn’t have to check out at noon. We’ll crash. Get room service. Enjoy some private time. Then head back to school after dinner. Did you book a room?”


“No. Whitney is taking care of all of it.”


I can tell that Jake is bummed. I stop kissing Dawson’s neck. “What about dinner? We could sit together.”


“Whitney already has planned the seating arrangements too.”


“Do you get to plan anything?”


“Sure, from the list she gave me.”


“She likes to plan,” Dawson says.


“Yeah, well sometimes it takes the fun out of it.”


I hand Jake the joint. “Here. I think you need this.”


Monday, October 3rd


I thought you’d never ask.


8:20am


I’m in history class with Riley when I get called to the office. I smile, grab my bag, and figure that Peyton got me out of class again.


When I get to the office though, I don’t see her.


Instead the Dean’s secretary says, “Miss Monroe, the dean will see you now.”


The dean will see me now? Why does the dean want to see me?


What did I do!?


I walk into his office.


Be calm, Keatyn. Don’t look guilty.


The dean looks up from his desk. “Sit down, Miss Monroe. There’s something we need to discuss.”


“Yes, sir,” I say as I fidget with the zipper on my handbag.


“This is a delicate situation,” he tells me. He’s got a little bead of sweat on the upper corner of his forehead, where his hairline just barely recedes.


Is he nervous?


“We pride ourselves on security here at Eastbrooke, but it appears that someone was in our office last night. We believe that your file was accessed.”


My eyes get huge, my thoughts immediately racing to the rehabs that were broken into. To Vincent being in New York City.


Vincent tracked me from New York.


He had me followed, and I didn’t know it.


He knows I’m here.


But if he knows I’m here, if he broke in last night, why didn’t he come and get me last night while I was sleeping?


Didn’t Garrett say Vincent was too smart to do it himself? That he probably hired someone.


Does that mean he’s on his way?


I clear my throat. It’s obvious that the dean expects me to respond. “Were there other files accessed?”


Please say yes.


“It appears to have been just yours.”


I try not to panic.


I need to know what Vincent knows. “What exactly is in my file?”


“The basics. Your school transcripts. Current class schedule. Parking pass. Dorm assignment. And, well, the financial arrangements regarding your tuition.”


That’s why he broke in. He knows I’m here, but he needs to know what dorm I’m in. Tonight, he’s coming to get me. Or maybe he’s waiting for me inside my car. Hiding in the backseat, waiting for me to drive off, then he’ll overtake me. Or maybe he wanted me to know he found me. Maybe he’ll make me wait. Make me crazy with wonder as to when he’s coming. Maybe he’s playing with me. Garrett said that stalking is all about control.


What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I just started building a new life here.


“Thank you for letting me know, sir. Is there anything else?”


“No, we just needed to make you aware of the situation. Particularly since your financial data may have been compromised.”


“Thanks,” I say.


He has no idea. He’s worried about money. About getting sued.


I’m worried about someone grabbing me and never being seen again. I grab the locket around my neck and pray that whatever they installed in it actually works.


I think I’m going to need it.


“You should probably take a few minutes to check your account and then head back to class,” the dean says as he shoos me out of the relative safety of his office.


My mind is reeling.


I imagine Vincent waiting for me outside.


I remember Garrett telling me to go where people are.


I can’t go to my dorm room. He could be there. I can’t go to class. He knows my schedule. I have to be unpredictable. I have to do something he couldn’t have planned on.


I stand outside the school office, trying to think.


“Earth to Keatyn.”


“What?” Riley is standing in front of me. Big, strong Riley. The boy who said I’d need protecting.


“Did you get in trouble?”


“What? Oh, uh, no.”


He wraps his arm around me. “Then what's wrong? You're shaking. Is your family okay?”


My eyes get tears in them. I don't know what to do.


Riley sees that I'm about to start crying.


“Come on, let's go talk.” He tries to drag me down the hall.


“No! Wait!” I yell.


“Why? Tell me what's got you so upset.”


“Just give me a minute!”


Think, Keatyn. Don't stay in this building. Don't go to dorm. Your car is out. Lots of people.


But then I think about the crazy people that come into classrooms with guns. No classrooms. I need to hide.


I remember Garrett telling me that Hawthorne House was next to my dorm. That it housed most of the school’s athletes. That I should go there if I was ever in trouble.


“Can we go to your room?”


Riley grins and raises an eyebrow at me sexily. “Baby, I thought you'd never ask.”


I don’t laugh at his joke. “I, uh, don’t want anyone to know. Can we sneak down there? Go the back way or something?”


“It’s gonna be a secret affair, huh? You want me to tie you up?”


My face goes a shade whiter. I think about what was in the van. Imagine being tied up in the back of it.


Riley looks at me closely. “Okay, you're scaring me.”


“I’m sorry. I just . . .” I can't even come up with a lie. I'm stuck in one spot. I thought if he ever came and got me, found me, I'd be all badass and fight him, but I'm not a badass. I'm a scared, freaked-out mess.


I’m paralyzed with fear.


Snap out of it and make a decision, Keatyn.


I look at Riley. He’s got on a hoodie over the tie-dyed shirt he’s wearing for 70s day today. “Can I have your jacket?”


He pulls it off and hands it to me. I put it on and pull the hood up over my head. I look over and see the big Lost and Found box. There are a pair of Cougar Athletics sweatpants lying right on the top. I grab them and pull them on over my skirt and fringed cowboy boots.


“What are you doing? You’re acting very strange. Are you on something?”


“What? No. I’m . . . I, uh, just thought that I shouldn’t walk in your dorm looking like a girl. It’s a disguise.”


“When we get there, you are going to tell me what the hell is going on.”


I nod my head and pull on his arm. The second bell already rang for the next period, so the hallways are empty. I peek around a corner to look outside. To survey the area. To see if Vincent or any other stranger is lurking there.


“Let’s sneak down by the trees.”


“No way. If we look like we’re doing something wrong, we’ll get caught. We’re walking straight down the pathway to the dorms. If anyone asks what we’re doing, we’ll say getting a paper out of my room, for class.”


I’m beyond logic but that sounds good. “Give me your sunglasses.”


“A hoodie, sweats, and sunglasses. Are you afraid Dawson will find out? I swear, I’ll never tell.”


He’s trying to make me laugh, I know.


But it’s not working.


We safely get to his dorm room without running into anyone.


I shut the door, slump against it, then slide down to the floor.


Riley kneels down next to me. “Okay. Tell me what the hell is going on.”


“Just give me a minute, okay? I need to think.”


I open the file copy the dean gave me and look through it. Look for any link between me and my old life.


A school I didn't go to. A fake transcript from a fake school but with my actual classes and grades.


A fake mailing address for my fake parents in France.


My schedule. My activities. My parking pass.


The account that my tuition comes out of from the bank in Atlanta.


Nothing to connect me to my old life.


Except the picture on my school ID. If he saw that, he'd know it’s me.


I look up at Riley and tell him as much of the truth as I can. “Someone was in the school office last night and accessed my file. Only my file.”


“Why are you so upset about that? Jeez, I thought someone died or something.”


I think about me being the one to die.


“I just feel a bit violated, I guess. Why would someone do that?”


Please let there be a viable alternative to Vincent.


“Maybe it was just a prank?” Riley guesses.


I shake my head. “Why?”


He snaps his finger. “Maybe it was Whitney. Jake said that she was pissed about Peyton going shopping with you. About her weekend.”


“Whitney? Why would she do that?”


“Because she’s a bitch and she hates you. Maybe she was looking for dirt.” He grabs my printout. “Any dirt in here? Did you get kicked out of your last school? Do you have an illegitimate child? An affair with a teacher? Been to rehab?”


I listen to him rattle off all the fake life ideas my family came up with.


“Riley?”


“What?”


I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly. “Thanks for being my friend.”


He hugs me back, which causes me to start crying.


“Are you on the rag? What's with all the tears?”


“I’m not sure.” I laugh.


He starts reading my file. “Wow. This is scandalous.”


“What is?” What did I miss?


“You got a B. Seriously?” He scans the pages. “You've only had one B in your life?”


I shrug. “Yeah.”


“Brains and beauty. It's a deadly combination. No wonder my brother is crazy about you.”


“Do you see anything else that might come back to haunt me?”


“Well, you should probably call your bank and check your account. I bet that’s why the dean was freaking out. They have your whole account number on here. They aren’t supposed to do that.”