Dawson runs by me without touching me. He always hits my skirt playfully when he comes on the field. I know he’s mad at me. He’ll be even madder when I tell him I’m not going this weekend.

I’m shaking my pompoms but lost in thought about how I can get out of here without Garrett knowing.

A big body in a uniform stops in front of me and faces me.

It’s Aiden. I can see those gorgeous green eyes peering out from his helmet.

He grabs both my arms gently. “Have you heard anything?”

I’m too shocked that he stopped in the middle of their big entrance to respond. I just shake my head no.

He leans his helmet against my forehead and says, “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Then he runs toward the rest of the team.

When he gets to the players’ area, Dawson grabs him by the facemask.

I don’t know what they are saying, but I can tell by Dawson’s body language that he’s pissed. Aiden grabs Dawson’s hand and pulls it off his facemask then he shoves Dawson away. Dawson is just getting ready to throw himself back at Aiden when Jake steps in between them and appears to get in Dawson’s face. Then he pushes Dawson away from Aiden and over to the bench.

I run with the cheerleaders and the dance team to our assigned spots for the start of the second half, where I say a prayer that Aiden is right.

After we come off the field from our third quarter dance, Whitney is standing by the fence. She waves Peyton over. Who then waves me over.

I walk over thinking, Now, what?

Peyton runs back to the edge of the field as Whitney says, “Keatyn.”

“What did you need, Whitney?”

She sighs a big fake sigh. “This is kind of awkward, seeing as you were sitting at the table when I invited everyone, but you know that you’re not invited this weekend, right?”

Wow. She’s telling me this now. About an hour before we’re set to leave. She so planned this.

But I don’t care.

“I have no desire to spend a weekend with you, Whitney.”

“You know that he’s just using you. You’re just the flavor of the week. He and Rachel are hooking up this weekend. He’s been texting her all week. I’m just telling you that now, as a friend. I don’t want you to be all upset come Monday and embarrass yourself by trying to sit with us at lunch. That little ticket has been revoked too.” She stops, gives me a big fake smile, and then pats my hand sympathetically. “Okay. Good talk.”

The rest of the game I wrestle with what to do. I want to go home and find Vanessa. I want to tell Dawson what Whitney said. I want him to tell her that he likes me and that he doesn’t care what she thinks. I want him to stand up for me. I want him to commit social suicide for me.

But then I realize that we really haven’t talked about it. He didn’t actually invite me to go with him this weekend. He said he would go, but he and I haven’t talked about it once. I just assumed.

Does that mean it’s true? That he’s going to hook up with Rachel?

Has he really been texting her?

I want to fight Whitney. I really do. I want to tell her off in front of everyone. I want to wipe that smug little smile right off her bitch face.

But I can’t.

I have a much bigger battle to worry about.

After the game, I call Garrett to get an update. He doesn’t have much for me. He asks me to please sit tight tonight. Not do anything stupid and call him in the morning. That if she’s not back, he’ll meet me in New York and fly home with me.

I grab my bag. I was all packed and ready to leave right after the game. Whitney told everyone the limos would pick them up straight from the field house. I’m running late after talking to Garrett. I want to be able to talk to Dawson before he leaves. I’m still not sure what I’m going to say, but I want to at least talk to him.

As I come out of the door, I see one limo pull away and another with the door open. Whitney is standing outside it with Dawson standing next to her. Rachel is right behind him. I slide over into the bushes. I don’t want Whitney to see me standing here.

Dawson looks around for a minute. Whitney say a few words to him. He nods, then puts his hand in front of him allowing the ladies, Whitney and Rachel, to go first. He gets in the car behind them, the driver shuts the door, and they are off.

Now I know what it feels like to be excluded. To be the one that the bouncer puts the velvet rope in front of and says You’re not on the list.

It doesn’t really feel very good.

From behind me a voice whispers, “Why are we hiding in the bushes? And why did they just leave without you?”

I turn around and my boobs brush across Aiden's chest. I take a step back in shock and almost fall backwards over the bush. Strong arms reach out and grab me, keeping me upright. When he pulls me back toward him, I already have more tears in my eyes.

“Whitney told me right before the game was over that even though I was sitting there when she asked, that I wasn't invited. Then she said something nasty about me being Dawson’s flavor of the week and how he’s going to hook up with Rachel. I was going to cancel on him anyway. I have a car coming to pick me up at eight in the morning and then I'm going to New York. I guess Dawson is still mad at me about today. Or maybe Whitney is right and I am just the flavor of the week.”

Aiden still hasn't let go of me. He's listening very carefully to every word I say.

“You know, you're even beautiful when you cry,” he says as he brushes a few tears from my cheek.

I smile though my tears. “If this is the new and improved Aiden, I like him better already. I just don't get why Dawson would leave. He bought me a key-to-his-heart necklace a while ago. He says he really likes me. But then he does this? Just leaves? Is that what they do, Aiden? Is this just a game to them?”

Aiden scrunches his nose up. “It all seems kind of odd, especially after what he said to me at halftime.”

“He got mad you stopped to check on me, didn't he?”

“Yeah, he was pissed.”

“It was nice of you. So I'm pretty much exhausted. I can't wait to go to sleep.”

Aiden helps me out of the bushes and then walks me to my dorm.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, “If you hear anything about your friend, let me know, okay?”

“Okay. Night, Aiden.”

“Night, Boots.” He gives me a devilish grin then pats me on the back.

“Very funny,” I say as I walk into my dorm.

The dorm is quiet. Most everyone has left for the weekend. Katie and Maggie must have already left for Annie’s. Her parents are out of town and they are spending the weekend there. I wasn't invited to go with them, but they all thought I was going with Dawson.

I wash my face, put on some pjs, and fall into bed.

I am just on the edge of sleep when my phone rings.

I instantly shoot up in bed, panic griping me when I see Garrett’s name.

“Did you find her? Please tell me she’s okay.”

“She posted a picture on Facebook. We can run it through our facial recognition software, but I thought you might know faster. I just sent you the photo.”

Up pops a photo of Vanessa wrapped in a pair of deeply tanned arms.

“Ohmigawd!” I squeal with delight. “She’s with Bam Bam! That's why her dad isn't reachable either. She's with her dad on Bam's yacht.”

“Want to tell me who Bam Bam is?”

“Sure. His name is Juan Fabio Martinez. He's an Argentinian polo player. He’s really talented, went pro at fifteen, and he’s only a year older than me and Vanessa. His dad owns, well, like, South America, I think. He's awesome. He's looks like a Polo Ken doll and even comes with his own set of toys.”

“His own set of toys?”

“Yeah. Yachts, boats, suitcases full of cash, a helicopter, a ranch, horses, and Ferraris. Always a Ferrari. And always red. Last count he had eight. All different years and models. Every year around this time, he has a party on the yacht. His dad does some business with Vanessa’s dad, and she and I have gone the last two years. I forgot about that. If you would have let me keep my phone, I could have saved us both a lot of worry. I'm sure he texted me.”

“So she's safe and not with Vincent?”

“I’m positive. She's safe and not with Vincent.”

“Look at the photo carefully. Are you sure it's new, not from last year?”

“I’m positive. Vanessa is in a bikini I have never seen. She has new caramel colored highlights, and Bam has a new tattoo. See the Ferrari prancing pony on his shoulder. That’s new.”

Garrett lets out a big breath. “Good. I'm still worried that we don't know where Vincent is. Will you be at school all weekend?”

“No, I'm going to my loft in the morning.”

He lets out another big breath. “Even better.”

I get off the phone and say a prayer. Thanking God that Vanessa is okay.

I close my eyes and think about going to sleep, but then I remember to call Aiden.

“Is your friend okay?” he answers with.

“Yes. I just got good news.”

“I’m glad. I've been praying for that all day.”

“Me too. Thanks for today, Aiden. For talking—well, for listening to me and for getting us out of trouble for skipping.”

A Facebook notification dings in my ear. I move my phone in front of my face to see it. Whitney has posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel’s cheek in the limo.”

“Wow. That hurts,” I say to myself, forgetting Aiden is on the phone.

“What hurts?” he says.

“Whitney just posted a photo of Dawson kissing Rachel.”

“On the cheek. I just saw.”

I start to cry again. I swear my emotions have been everywhere today.

“I have to go, Aiden,” I choke out.

I hang up and turn off my phone.

I told myself that I was not falling in love.

I’ve tried not to care about Dawson.

But, apparently, I didn’t try hard enough.

That’s it.

I am officially done with boys.

Forever.

I’ll become a nun or a lesbian or a get a sex change or something.

Maybe sew my vagina shut.

I laugh at my stupidity and then cry myself to sleep.

Saturday, September 24th

What the hell?

7am

When the alarm wakes me up at seven, I really don’t want to get up. I’m tempted to throw on a pair of sweat pants, but I decide I need to wear a cute outfit to see my new home. The thought of seeing it temporarily puts me in a good mood even though my ass is seriously dragging.

Probably because I didn’t sleep much, and when I did, I dreamt about epic battles between good and evil and, not surprisingly, evil was winning.

I fix my hair, put on an adorable chiffon Free People mini dress. Killer lace-up Givenchy boots. I throw all my stuff in a Burberry Prorsum checked tote. I’ll see my loft, then go to all the shops where Kym wants me to try on dresses. Then I’ll spend the rest of the day trying to fill my closet with new clothes. I’m not going to let a dumb boy keep me from shopping. Or a stupid stalker.

It’s time I start to live.

And I think I will start by seeing just how much damage I can do with a black card. Mom always says looking good is the best revenge. Maybe it’s time I prove her right.

I look at my clock, see it's already almost eight, grab my luggage, and head out of my dorm. I walk down the big hill to the security building, where I have to sign out and wait for my cab.

I turn my phone back on, in case the cab company needs to get a hold of me, and throw it back in my purse.

I hear my phone power up then hear numerous dings and beeps as emails, texts, and notifications start coming in.

I'll look at them in the cab. Or just delete them.

I walk into the security building, say good morning to one of the guards, and size him up. Wonder if he'd ever let Vincent in.

“Morning, Miss Monroe. Your cab is waiting outside the gate.”

“Thank you,” I say as I sign the form he puts in front of me.

“I tried to call you a few minutes ago to verify you had called for one.”

“Sorry, I didn't have my phone on. Is that the procedure for visitors? You call before you let them in?”

“We have very strict procedures about who gets on campus. We have lots of important kids here and kidnapping is always something we worry about and guard against. We've never let anyone in that didn't belong. Never had an incident in my twenty-two years here.”

I pray silently that I won’t be the first.

“There was a girl at my old school that had a stalker. He was really tricky and got through campus security by lying about who he was and why he was there.”

“Well, you can be certain that won't happen here, Miss. We check and double check before we let anyone on campus.”

He waves at a delivery truck that has just come through the gate. I notice that the guard down at the booth just waved him though. The truck never even stopped.

“What about that guy?”

“Oh, that's Gary. He's been delivering to the café for a couple years. He'll stop and have a cup of coffee on his way out.”

“What do you do if Gary is sick?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if someone pretended Gary was sick and drove his truck in?”

“Well, we’d call and verify that he was sick, but if he's in Gary’s truck, he's probably okay.”

I give him a worried look. “Yeah, maybe.”

He looks at me shrewdly. “But you’re right. That might be a weakness to consider. Oh, there's your cab. Have a nice weekend.”