“Do you have a pen?”
Aiden pats his pockets and when he comes up empty, he starts looking around.
“I have a bunch in my purse.” I grab my purse, dig to the bottom, and pull one out. I’m shocked to see Avery’s purple glitter pen come out in my hand. Although, it’s the perfect pen to use for my first autograph.
I take the cap off and start to write my name.
And I think there may be something magical about this pen, because for the first time since I’ve been here, I don’t even hesitate. I write Keatyn Monroe.
Completely. No M that’s half a D. It’s a perfectly-formed M.
“Aren't you going to kiss it?” Aiden says with a grin.
“I think I’d rather kiss you.”
He gives me a beaming smile. “Only if I get to end up in the moonlight with you.”
It’s the final scene of our second, and last, performance of the night.
The Good Prince and the Cheerleader, along with the Bad Prince and his Debutante fiancée, have been called into the coronation room by the Queen.
“You were all good sports about this competition and the TV ratings were extraordinary. The monarchy is back in the black. Even though this show was all about involving the townspeople and the world in your quests to find brides, only one of you can be the next King. As I told you in the beginning, true love is the key.”
She takes a crown and places it on the Good Prince’s head. “You, my son, will be the next King. And remember, everyone, true love conquers all.”
After our final bows, I rush off stage to get Maggie, making up some lame excuse about needing her backstage with me while everyone clears out. I chatter endlessly about everything and nothing.
Finally, I get a text from Logan letting me know that it’s time. That everyone has left for the cast party.
I walk Maggie out of the dressing room, where Logan is waiting to take her hand.
I rush away quickly, so she has no time to argue.
Then I sneak to the back of the darkened auditorium to sit next to Aiden.
He grabs my hand and gives it a little squeeze.
We watch as Logan, in his full Prince costume, leads Maggie out onto the stage.
Time to see if life can actually follow a script.
THE SETTING: EASTBROOKE AUDITORIUM. THE BACHELOR PRINCE SET OF THE BEACH IN THE MOONLIGHT.
LOGAN
(Taking Maggie’s hands in his)
I brought you here because I owe you an apology.
MAGGIE
(Wearing a look of confusion at being brought onto the stage. Then her face shows shock)
An apology?
LOGAN
Yes. I’ve been blaming you for our breakup and it’s not all your fault. If I hadn’t been texting that girl, we’d still be together. I’m really sorry, Mags.
Maggie smiles at him in a way I’ve never seen her smile. I’ve also never heard him or anyone else calls her Mags.
Logan smiles back at her, clearly happy that for the most part she’s been following our script, and continues.
LOGAN
I also want you to know how I feel about you.
Maggie instantly frowns and says exactly what I predicted.
MAGGIE
You hate me.
Logan lets go of one of her hands and gently touches her cheek. “I may act like I do, but I don’t. I’m still so in love with you.”
“Bullshit. You’re mean to me.”
“I know I have been, and I’m sorry. But I’ve realized that it’s not where you’ve been that matters, it’s where you end up that does. I want to end up with you, Mags. Forever.”
Maggie has tears in her eyes.
Aiden and I both hold our breaths. We know it could go either way at this point. She could walk out or kiss him.
Aiden squeezes my hand tightly as Maggie wipes her tears and says, “I want to end up with you too.”
(They share true love’s perfect kiss)
Well, it starts out as a perfect-ending-fairy-tale kiss, but it quickly turns into something that would not be appropriate for a Disney movie. Aiden pulls on my hand and we sneak out of the auditorium.
Sunday, November 6th
Full of life.
7:55am
I wake up, trying to figure out where I am and why it’s so bright in here. “Aiden! It’s almost eight! What time does your dorm advisor wake up?”
“He works out every day at six. But it’s okay. If anyone sees you, they’ll just think you came over this morning. I mean, you’re in your running shoes.”
Sadly, I am. I just woke up in a boy’s bed and am still fully clothed.
I calm down, mostly due to the fact that he’s running his hand across my face. It might be more relaxing than a bath and weed combined. He does have good, good hands.
“Aiden, that seriously feels so good. You have no idea.” Then I open my eyes and look into his. “My dad used to do that to me when I was little. It calmed me down. Apparently, I could be a little wild.”
“I like that about you.”
“That I’m a little wild? Wild, like slutty?”
“No, silly. I just like that you’re spunky, wild, and full of life. It’s that little spark of fearlessness that made you steal the soccer ball from boys you’d never met and kick it at my face. It may be the thing I like best about you.”
I want to cry. There’s something that Aiden likes best about me and it’s not a sexual thing. I want to kiss him.
So I do.
“What do you like best about me?” he asks.
I think about it for a second. I love his godly smile, his lips, and his muscles. The little freckle just under his eye. The sound of his voice. But there’s one thing that has always made Aiden stand out.
“Your strength. I like your strength.”
He flexes a buff arm in front of me. “This strength?”
“No, your inner strength. You’re determined. You never seem to get stressed. You naturally take control. You make me feel safe.”
He wraps his strong arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I breathe in his strength and, possibly, his love.
“Last night was nice, Aiden. I liked falling asleep with you.”
“It was better than nice. So next weekend, we’re still going to New York, right? Do some shopping. Hang out?”
“That sounds fun.”
He points to the four-leaf clover, which is peeking out from under my shorts. “Break a leg again today.”
“Thanks.”
He kisses me on the cheek, and says, “I wish I was going with you tomorrow. I’d love to meet your family.”
I wish he could too, I think wistfully as I say, “Maybe someday.”
Didn’t listen.
6pm
After our performance, a stagehand brings me a beautiful bouquet of flowers. It’s a mass of pastel blooms held together by an aqua satin bow.
“Are these for me?”
“Yeah, some dude asked me to give them to you.”
“Some dude?”
“Yeah, he was talk and dark haired. He said there’s a card.”
Tall and dark?
My hands are shaking as I pull the little card out of the envelope. On the card is just one thing.
A replica of my chaos tattoo.
I drop the bouquet and look around wildly.
Because I know.
Vincent is here.
My director didn’t listen to me. He called Vincent. He came to the play. He knows where I am.
Aiden walks in and says, “Boots, what's wrong? You’re shaking.”
“Um, I don't feel very good.”
“What do you mean?” Aiden asks as I rush over to the trashcan and throw up in it.
Aiden chuckles. “Aren't you supposed to get stage fright before the play?”
I hang onto the big trash barrel while tuning out Aiden’s voice.
I've got to get out of here. I've got to find Cooper.
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” I run out of the dressing room and leave Aiden standing there.
But I can’t go outside. I can’t risk him waiting for me.
I run back onto the now darkened stage and wrap myself in the folds of the velvet curtains.
I grab my phone out of my dress pocket and hold it tightly against my chest while I change the setting to dim.
Then I text Cooper.
Me: He’s here. He came to the play. The director told him about me even though I asked him not too. I don’t even know where to go. I can’t run because I know he’s going to catch me this time. Cooper, I’m scared.
Cooper: Where are you? I'll be right there.
Me: Hiding on the stage.
He doesn't reply.
I stand shaking in the curtain for what feels like an eternity.
I think about how it will go down.
Vincent watched the play. He's going to be waiting for me outside. He's going to hit me over the head, or jab a needle into me, or maybe he'll just put his hand across my mouth and say don't scream.
It’s then that I kick myself for hiding in this curtain. That was stupid of me. I should have stayed with Aiden. I should've grabbed his arm and left with the crowd.
But in Miami, Vincent threatened to shoot Damian. If he were cornered and close to having me, he would shoot his way out of here.
Killing Aiden and my friends.
No, it's better this way.
Just me and him.
Maybe I should let him kidnap me.
Let him take me. Have Garrett track my locket, find me, and then arrest him.
I’d get my life back.
I'd go see my family. Hug my sisters. Go back to the beach. Smell the ocean.
I think about a recent thriller movie where a girl is on the phone hiding under a bed while men are in her house. Her dad tells her that she’s about to get taken.
I'm about to get taken.
I reach up to grab my locket, but my fingers don’t touch it. I pat my chest, frantically searching for the locket.
It's not on me. It's lying on my dresser because we weren't allowed to wear any jewelry for the play.
I realize I'm screwed.
I hear the auditorium door open. Footsteps walk up the stairs.
Then onto the stage and closer to me.
I stop breathing and don’t move a muscle.
I can feel that he’s closer.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Ohmigawd!
I was right.
He's here.
Please don't let him find me.
But then my phone vibrates.
Even though it’s tight against my chest it makes a little noise.
The shoes start walking toward me.
Getting closer and closer.
I'm going to have to fight. Take him by surprise.
I launch myself at the dark form in front of me, knocking him and me quickly to the ground. Then I start wildly punching.
I connect with both his chest and his face.
I leap up to run away as he grabs me, rolls on top of me, and pins me on the floor.
Fuck.
I close my eyes tightly.
“You're supposed to punch the bad guy, not the one that's here to rescue you.”
I quickly open my eyes. “Cooper? Ohmigawd. I thought. I thought . . .”
We both freeze at the sound of a door opening. Cooper covers my mouth and gets both of us to our feet effortlessly and quietly.
We hear the sound of shoes heading back toward the dressing rooms.
Cooper runs his hand down my leg, slides my heels off, and then pulls me across the stage.
We sneak down the steps then crouch behind the auditorium seats.
When he thinks the coast is clear, we run toward the main entrance.
Cooper’s still holding my hand as we exit the building. He pulls me toward a car parked in the handicapped stall.
There's a big puddle of water that I’m ready to run through, but Cooper scoops me up, carries me over it, and sets me in the car.
He slams the door shut, quickly runs to the driver’s side, and gets in.
I look out the window, scanning the area for Vincent. I remember Garrett telling me that he couldn’t disguise his height.
The only person I see, though, is Whitney. She watches us drive by, not even trying to hide the disgust on her face.
Shit.
Now, she's really going to think there’s something going on between us.
I shake my head. She’s the least of my worries.
“We need to leave campus,” I say, as I see Cooper driving toward his quarters.
“I think we're safer here.”
“No. Garrett told me to run. Go to the train station. Run. Get away.”
“That was before you hired me.”
He pulls up in front of his quarters and we run into his town house.
I drop down on his couch as he pulls his curtains shut. He grabs my hand again and leads me upstairs to his bedroom.
Then he pulls me onto the bed and into an embrace.
“You're shaking,” he says in a gentle voice. “Calm down. You're safe.”
Then he rubs his eye, which I realize is starting to swell.
“I think I gave you a black eye.”
He grins at me. “You did a good job.”
“Not good enough. You pinned me in two seconds.”
Cobra Cooper strikes again, quickly pinning me on the bed.
“Now what am I supposed to do?” I say as I reach up and gently touch his quickly swelling face.
He grabs my hands and pins them above my head.
My breathing starts to speed up a little.
“If something happens today. To me. To you. If he gets you. You need to know how to get away. I suspect this is a position he will want you in.”
I look up at his hand strongly gripping mine. Run my eyes down his tightly straining muscles His rock hard body.
But it’s Cooper and he’s not scary.
“You just relaxed. That's exactly what I was getting ready to tell you to do. It makes you feel like less of a threat. Look at me like you want to kiss me.”