Get Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #7)

“I’m glad you’re going,” Katie says. “How are you doing? Really?”


“Not that well. I’m hoping school helps me not go crazy.”

“I heard Whitney didn’t come back to school.”

The dance was only a few weeks ago but I’d already almost forgotten about what Whitney was going to do to Peyton. So much has happened since then.

“That surprises me.”

“Surprised me too,” she says as we walk to class. “I heard Aiden sneak in last night. You guys finally doing it?”

“He came to France with me for Christmas. Got to meet my family.”

“So you did it in France?”

“Did what in France?” Aiden asks, coming up from behind me and scaring us both.

“Taught you to speak proper French,” I say with a smile.

“Katie’s blushing. You two were talking about sex, weren’t you?”

We both giggle.

“Maybe,” Katie admits.

When we get outside my history class, Aiden takes my hand, kisses it, and says, “Tu es l'amour de ma vie. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours.”

“What did he say,” Katie asks, after he walks away. “He said, You are the love of my life and I want to be with you forever.”

“Oh, that’s so dreamy,” she replies.





Do great things.

History





After our teacher goes over this semester’s syllabus and hands back our midterms, he gives us an assignment and tells us to get started on it.

I’ve been thinking about Grandpa’s advice. About listening to my heart.

And the more I think about it, the more sure I am.

If Brooklyn hasn’t been found by Saturday, I’m going to Malibu.

I lean over and whisper to Riley, “Hey, where's that map of Stockton’s exits? Have you ever noticed if one goes off property?”

“The map is in Stockton’s. But, yes, there is one. I’m sure that’s how they get everything in and out of there.”

“Where does it go?”

“I’ve never been. Do you want to go see?”

“Yes. Cooper and I—or maybe just I—may need to leave here without anyone knowing.”

“I thought you agreed to wait seven days.”

“I may have lied. This is all my fault, Riley. I can't just sit here.”

“If Cooper doesn’t go with you, I will.”

“I love you. You’re the best friend.”

“You just love me because you want me to help you run your new production company.”

“I’m serious about that. We’d have a blast working together. And I trust you—maybe more than anyone.”

“More than anyone?”

I sigh. “I trust Aiden, and he wants to help. But I just can’t let him.”

“So you’ll sneak out of Stockton’s?”

“Yes.”

“I’m serious. I’m going. I'll do whatever you say. Even if it's just to ride on the plane with you.”

“I’m afraid if I let you on the plane, you'd renege on your promise.”

“I won’t,” he says solemnly.

“Riley, if something happens to me, the whole production company is going to you. Do great things with it, okay?”

His shakes his head at me, but agrees.





Hell has officially frozen over.





4:30pm





“I think it's this one,” Riley says, taking me through an exit from Stockton’s.

“We should really check this place out sometime when we’re not drinking,” I say with a laugh. “We’d probably find all sorts of interesting stuff.”

We walk along the dimly-lit tunnel.

For a surprisingly short while.

When we get to the end of the tunnel, we find a ladder, climb up, and open a trap door in the floor of what appears to be a small cement block building.

“You stay down there,” Riley instructs. “I’m going to close the door and see if I can get back in with the key.”

“Come on out. That,” he says, showing me a keypad, “must be how they do the deliveries. They can control access through keypad codes. I bet only members get keys.”

“It’s pretty crazy if you think about it. Someone spent a lot of time and energy on this place.”

“I think it’s sort of evolved over time to be what it is now. Some of the tunnels look older than the others. Speaking of that, have you ever read any of the names on the walls?”

“I looked at some that first night, but I didn’t really pay attention.”

“I started looking at them before break. There are some important names on those walls. History-making names. Leaders of industry and state names. People you could maybe call, Keatyn. One is a California judge. I looked him up. He’s a big deal. Well-connected. What if you went to him?”

“For what?”

“You said they couldn’t get a search warrant. I’m just saying that sometimes it helps to know the right people.”

“Garrett knows a lot of people. If he couldn’t pull strings . . .”

“I’m just saying . . .”

“Yeah, you're right. Let me think about it. Let’s go look outside.”

We walk out of the little building and find ourselves just on the other side of the Eastbrooke fence.

I point to a plaque above the door. “This was a gift from the class of 1978.”