Jillian Dodd - Hate Me

He just keeps dragging me, closer and closer to the door. 

When we’re almost to the door, he says, “I want you, and I’m going to have you. All to myself.”

“Keatyn, what?”

“He did the same thing, said the same thing, as he was dragging me out the door. That he was going to have me all to himself.”

Cooper takes his jacket off and lays it across the top of me. “You’re shaking. Stop thinking about it.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Cooper. Thank you for everything. For going along with my crazy schemes.”

“Somehow I doubt Garrett would have gone for the cage dancing.” He smiles at me and pats the top of my hand. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Cooper. Let’s keep watching.”

Just when you think Vince is about to take her out the door, Matt stands up and staggers toward him. 

Matt is holding a boat anchor that he swings up into the air and then slams into Vince’s head. 

Vince drops to the ground, bleeding profusely.

But he’s not dead yet. 

He says, “We’re still going to Egypt together, Lacy.” His voice starts to fade as he nears death. “And it will be perfection.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Did he memorize the whole damn movie?”

“Did he say that to you?”

“At some point, yeah. Actually, no, I think it was in the note with the photos.”

Lacy helps Matt stagger outside.

She suggests they try the boat again. 

It still doesn’t start, so Lacy lifts the motor cover. “Just the battery cable.” She pops it back on and starts the boat. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Before we do, Lacy. I’m sorry. If you really want to go to Africa, we’ll figure out a way to stay together. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want to stand in the way of your dreams.”

“You are my dreams, Matty.” Lacy throws her arms around him, smothers him with kisses, and then they drive off in the boat as the sun is rising on a new day.

The End

Cooper shuts my laptop. “So, in this, Vince is the bad guy who dies. Do you think he changed that it the new script?”

“He said he was changing a lot of it. Special effects, stunt scenes. He made it sound like the new Lacy was supposed to be some badass heroine, but if she were, she’d save all her friends. And if she saved them, there’d be no story. No plot. I remember him saying something about getting someone ugly to play my boyfriend and not having any kissing scenes. I suppose young Vincent was jealous of Matt.”

“Because he wants Lacy for himself.”

“I think we need to get a copy of that script.”

“How are we going to do that?”

“That’s another thing agents are for.”

Dare to think.

7am

I get back to school just in time to curl my hair, touch up my makeup, and put on my day outfit for dance. There’s a home basketball game tonight and although we don’t have a pep rally today, the cheerleaders declared it a black out game. Meaning all the students need to wear black to the game. Which is sort of funny, since the cheerleaders don’t have black uniforms, only red or gold ones.

But the dance team, in supposed solidarity, is wearing our black yoga pants with long sleeved T-shirts that say Black Out the Badgers in gold glitter paint. And tonight we’ll be wearing our gold glittery spandex dresses and using our black and gold pompoms instead of the red and gold ones.

The competition between the cheerleaders and the dance team is kind of stupid to me. Next year, if I have any say, we’ll work together more.

I stop in my tracks.

Next year. 

Did I really just dare to think that?

That I could spend my senior year here?

I shake my head.

The excitement of last night must have me on some sort of high.

Once I’m ready, I sit down and type a message to my mom’s agent at the Warren Taylor Agency.

-Is there a way you could discreetly get a script for The Day at the Lake remake? I might know someone interested in it.

I’m shocked to get a quick response, especially since it’s 4:30 in the morning on the West coast.

-Any chance that someone might be you? I’d be surprised, honestly, if Vincent Sharpe hadn’t asked you yet.

I reply with:

-You’re up awfully early! And, no, it’s for Luke Sander. Apparently, they are interested in him for the boyfriend role, but he’s worried because he heard the production company is having some financial difficulties. He’s also maybe looking to switch agents and I thought of you. 

Yes, that’s sort of a lie. The part about the agent. But I could probably talk Sander into it, if necessary. He’s told me on more than one occasion that he felt like he’d outgrown his current agent.

-I’m in New York this week meeting with Tommy about your mother’s sudden leave of absence. Is she doing okay? I haven’t heard about the company’s finances. What did Sander hear?

-She’s fine. Just needs a break. And he heard that someone is buying out the company’s investors and a hostile takeover is imminent.

-Really? Interesting. I did hear the investors were rumbling about the amount of capital he’s sunk into that movie. If that’s the case, Luke Sander should stay far away from the project. 

Shit.

-Can you get me the script anyway? 

-Of course, darling. 

-Thank you. And give Tommy a hug for me.

-We should have lunch when I’m back in town. Tommy told me last spring that he expected you to follow in your mother’s footsteps. I could get you some roles very easily. 

-Thank you. I’ll think about it. Either way, lunch would be great. 

Then I text Cooper, realizing I forgot to tell him this part of my plan.

Me:  I forgot to tell you part of my plan last night. 

Cooper:  Forgot? Or purposely didn’t tell me?

Me:  Forgot. I’m having something delivered to Vincent’s office today at 4. I thought maybe your friend who met up with his assistant might text her and ask her out for Happy Hour. Like if he got her number.

Cooper:  He has her number. What did you send?

Me:  A photo I found of him from when he was doing the national search for the next Abby Johnston. I photoshopped the special effect of B’s head being blown off onto his head, put it in a picture frame, and boxed it up with some black rose petals. 

Cooper:  And purposely didn’t tell me because I would have told you not to?

Me:  Really? No, I thought you’d love the idea. And I was going to ask your friend myself last night, but forgot with the excitement. I’d really like to know how he reacts.

Cooper:  I think it’s important we know how he reacts. I’ll call him later today.

Me:  Be sure to have him wait to text her until after it’s delivered. 

Cooper:  Will do.

Me:  Have you heard anything from them? Like what he did last night?

Cooper:  He was furious about his car. Filed a police report. Took a cab home. Stayed there.

Me:  Thank goodness. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.

Maggie comes in our room to get a ponytail holder. Her hands are laden with gifts.

She lays two on my bed and one on Katie’s.

“I feel like I only see you at dance.” I give her a big hug.

“Logan and I have been spending a lot of time alone lately. Making up for lost time, I guess.”

“You mean having sex.”

“Not just that. We haven’t every night.” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, so we have. But we’ve been talking a lot too. About senior year. About our future. College. All that.”

“That’s good. Have you gotten any fun naughty gifts?”

“Yes. I don’t know who my Santa is, but I’m in love with him. I’ve gotten a pink vibrator, a bottle of cookie dough vodka, chocolate body paint, and nipple tassels.”

“Nipple tassels? I heard about Logan’s condom lollipops. Did you actually do it eight times?”

“No. Only three.” She smiles. “I’m not complaining though. Open your presents!” She holds up a Christmas bag.

I pull the tissue paper out, finding a bottle of cotton candy vodka and two pink silky scarves.

“I think the boys are working together to give us what our boyfriends would want us to use,” she laughs. “And get us drunk. We’ll take our vodka to the party tonight!”

“I get the vodka, but pink scarves? How it that naughty? I mean, these aren’t going to keep me very warm.”

Maggie starts laughing hysterically.

“What?” I say.

“I think those are for tying you up.”

“Oh . . . I didn’t even think of that.”

“You will now.”

Katie bounds out of the bathroom, sees the chocolate Santa on her bed, says, “Cool,” and tosses it in her backpack.

Hot not sweet.

7:45am

Aiden meets me at my dorm to walk me to class. He seems much more clear-headed this morning. “So, last night, how did it go?”

“As planned. I’m glad I went.”