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: 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.
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.