“I think she’ll let you.”
The stage lights up behind me, and I can see that the rest of the band is already set up.
Everyone in the crowd screams and cheers.
“Happy Birthday to you,” he starts singing.
I look out into the crowd and see Cush. He’s standing by a bunch of friends from school and singing loudly. Vanessa and RiAnne have their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. They’re singing and taking turns sipping from the flask. I see Mom and Tommy right in front of the stage, singing and holding hands.
Then I look toward the back and see that Brooklyn is still sitting down and still talking to his friends. None of them are singing.
I smile and wave at the crowd. What can I say, Brooklyn? I do like the spotlight.
After everyone sings, Tommy and Mom come up on stage.
“Everyone having a good time?” Tommy yells.
Everyone yells back. “Hell, yeah!”
“Good deal. Well, before we let Damian and the boys do their thing, we have a little surprise for the birthday girl. If you’ll all back up, we’ll bring her in.”
I hear the sound of a motor revving, and then a bright silver Mercedes SLS AMG Roadster rolls out onto the dance floor. It might just be more gorgeous than the earrings.
I give Mom and Tommy huge hugs, and then they herd me down to sit inside the convertible.
I’m in total shock.
I never asked for a car, but I did see a car like this in a magazine that Tommy had, and I remember telling him it was the most beautiful car I had ever seen.
Brooklyn will hate this car. It screams conspicuous consumption, but I don’t care. Tommy and Mom got it for me because they wanted to give me a gift they knew I would love.
And I love it.
The car gets moved out, the cake is served, and Twisted Dreams plays a long set.
I pull Cush close and dance with him.
And I can’t seem to stop kissing him. I almost wish I weren’t having an after-party, so I could do nothing but kiss him for the rest of the night.
Shit. The after-party.
Brooklyn there.
Cush there.
Surfers.
My friends from school.
What was I thinking?
I give Cush a long kiss then say, “Hey, I need to go talk to someone. I’ll be right back.”
I wander back over to Brooklyn’s spot and am surprised to find he’s the only one sitting there.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Some girls asked them to dance. They’re out there somewhere.”
Which really makes me smile. They are getting along.
“Why didn’t you join them?”
“Didn’t feel like it.”
“Oh.”
“So this is some party, huh? The car, the food, the bands. Do you have any idea how many starving kids you could have fed with the money spent tonight?”
“No, I don’t,” I say angrily. “And Mom and Tommy give a lot of money to charity. And when I have my own money, I will too. But there’s nothing wrong with enjoying some of it yourself. I haven’t seen you sending the money you spend on weed or all your expensive surfboards off anywhere.”
He shakes his head at me. “Look, about everything. I know . . . ”
All of a sudden someone rushes past us.
Then a couple more people.
Then someone bumps into me and almost knocks me down.
Black-suited, sunglass-wearing security guards rush by in droves.
Brooklyn gets off the couch, and we both look in the same direction to try and figure out what’s going on.
“Someone probably just crashed the party or got drunk or something. There’s plenty of security here. They’ll get it all sorted out,” I tell him.
But then I think about Mom’s stalker. About how worried James has been about the party. How he promised to keep her safe.
I panic.
Oh my God, I’ve got to find Mom.
“Brook—” I start to say, but I’m interrupted when one of the security guys practically picks me up off the ground and carries me away from Brooklyn.
The security guy yells at me. “We’re getting you out of here now!”
“Why?” I pull back. I look for Brooklyn, but he’s lost in the crowd behind me.
The security guy drags me to the other side of the dance floor, opposite the commotion, near where I made out with Cush.
I’m scared, but I don’t want to leave. Where is Tommy? Where is Mom? And why do they have to get me out of my own party? What’s happened to Mom?
Everyone is heading toward the commotion. The area he’s dragging me to is almost completely empty.
“Stop it!” I yell. “I need to go check on my mom! Is she okay? Tell me what’s going on!”
The security guy stops moving and wraps a strong arm tightly around my waist.
“The whore is fine. I told her I was moving on. Bet she never guessed it was with you.” He lets out an evil chuckle.
Oh my god!
He’s not security.
James was right! It’s the guy!
The stalker!
“Let go of me!” I struggle to get away from him, but he’s still dragging me like a rag doll toward the exit.