Will it work? I can’t tell her I can’t be on social media because of Vincent. I know what she’s saying makes sense to her, but Garrett told me about facial recognition software. I can’t risk having a profile photo of me. But on the other hand, if I don’t have one, it’s sort of a red flag. Like there’s a reason I don’t want people to know about my past or something.
“So if we do a page, we can’t use a picture of my face. My, uh, parents might see that somehow.”
She looks at me funny. “Wow, they must be really strict and have a lot of time on their hands. But okay, we can do that.”
She whips out her laptop. “Okay, so give me your email.”
“We can’t use my email either. My parents know my password. They might see that I set it up.”
“Jeez. That’s practically invasion of privacy. Okay, so we’ll make you a new email, not using your name.” She taps away on the keyboard then gets a piece of paper out of her bag and writes down my log in information. Then she adds the Facebook app to my phone and gets me all set up. “Okay, so your name is just Kiki. Kiki Kiki to be exact. Let me look at the photos in your phone.”
She scrolls through my pictures. It doesn’t take long, as there are only two. One of me and Brooklyn kissing, where you can’t see our faces. And one us facing the ocean where all you see is our backs.
“Why don’t you have any pictures?”
“It’s a new phone and when I tried to sync it, it erased all the photos from my old phone,” I say. Hoping that is even possible.
“How horrible. Well, we’ll just use this one then.”
“What one?”
She points to one that Dallas must have taken when he had my phone. It’s me. Well, it’s sort of me. It’s a photo of my ass in the plaid uniform skirt, over the knee socks, and my platform Mary Janes. “Is it okay if I use this?”
I laugh. “Yeah, that will be fine.”
I’m still feeling a little nervous about this, but I think not having one would make me stick out more than having one. And I can’t imagine any way possible for Vincent to track me through this.
Unless he has some kind of special ass-recognition software.
I go back to my room, pull out my laptop, and search for a place in New York. I find a lot of beautiful places. Most a little stuffy for my taste. Then I decide to search just lofts.
And I fall in love.
There’s a gorgeous brick-walled loft with a huge, curved wood-beamed great room, four bedrooms, the coolest outdoor space, and a turquoise kitchen island. I think about the money Grandpa gave me. About how he’s always told me real estate is a good investment.
And decide to buy it.
I send Sam, the guy who is handling my money, an email with a link to the property. I tell him I want to close quickly, like within a week or two, and to offer the owners extra, if need be, to do so.
Then I close my computer and immediately fall asleep.
Thursday, September 1st
Shot heard ’round the world.
lunch
I sit down next to Dawson and overhear Whitney talking to Peyton and her minions. “I just think college boys are overrated. You never get to see them and who knows what they’re doing all week when you’re not with them.” She gives Peyton a sad smile.
Like, poor Peyton. Her college boyfriend is probably cheating on her.
Then she says, “It seems like all they want to do is drink beer and party. I’m over that. I want a guy to walk me to class every day. Plus, Jake has gotten so hot. And since Kate married Will, royalty is very in style.”
She glances at me. Lets her eyes trail down my uniform with disgust. Like I’m destroying the school’s reputation with my wardrobe. And I look really cute today. Plaid skort. Tory Birch silk georgette blouse with black piping. Black cardigan. Black over-the-knee socks. Adorable short black cowboy boots with silver star studs. A black studded cross body bag. Thick black leather cuff with silver and crystals.
I ignore her look and turn toward Dawson. He’s been acting weird today. Almost ignoring me. I want to talk to him about it, but there is no way I’m going to say something about it now, where Whitney can hear.
I look down at the table and wonder why I’m still sitting here.
“Hey, I’m gonna go sit with Dallas and Riley,” I say quietly to Dawson.
As I walk away, I hear Whitney say to him, “Dawson, Dawson . . .”
I can tell she is getting ready to slam him, or probably me. Either way, I don’t want to hear it.
I sit down at the boys’ table next to Riley.
A few seconds later, Dawson slides into the seat next to me and sighs loudly. “Did you see the pictures on Facebook?”
“What pictures?”
“The ones Annie took of us kissing.”
“Uh, no.”
“Everyone has seen them. Everyone is talking about them. I’m kinda freaking out about this.”
“Why are you freaking out? Wait. Are you saying you don’t want anyone to know you’ve kissed me? Is that the problem? Is that why you’re acting so weird today?”
He sighs again. And it pisses me off because I realize what he’s not saying. He’s upset Whitney saw them.
Honestly, if I were smart, I wouldn’t want her to see them either. I really don’t want to battle her.
I just want to go to school, make some friends, and try not to get killed in the process.