Love Me(The Keatyn Chronicles #4)

ROLL CREDITSI stop and tap my pen on my notebook.

At my birthday party, I wanted to bring my two worlds together. Surfer friends and school friends.

Could I combine my East coast friends with my West coast friends?

I shake my head and wad up the paper.

None of it matters now.

Because last night I made a decision.

Logan pokes his finger into my shoulder.

“I need to tell you something.” He hangs his head and looks guilty.

“What’s wrong?”

“Remember when Aiden scored the points for you? You danced 29 dances under the twinkle lights that I helped him put up.”

“I remember. I didn’t know you helped, though. That was nice of you.”

“Do you remember how you freaked out when he told you the Keats quote?”

“Yes, Logan, I remember the entire night.”

“And do you remember that he didn’t call you after?”

I can’t talk about Aiden, his dances, or the twinkle lights. I blow my bangs up off my face and try not to cry. “Yes. I remember.”

“It upset you, right?”

“Yes, it upset me.”

“I told him not to call you.”

I fully turn around. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I was down on love. Maggie wouldn’t talk to me. She started hanging out with Parker again. And Aiden was all giddy about you. It pissed me off. And once he told me about your reaction to the quote and your sort of boyfriend, I told him it wasn’t worth it. That love wasn’t worth it. That true love was bullshit and so was love at first sight.”

I blow out the breath of air I’ve been holding. “Did he want to call me?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, Logan. I completely understand. And the end result would’ve been the same.”

“You made me forgive Maggie and she slept with someone else. Aiden didn’t do anything wrong.”

Thankfully, the bell rings, ending our school day and officially starting my vacation.

“Have a good break, Logan,” I say as I walk out of class.



I throw a few things in my tote bag, give my friends the kind of hugs you give someone when you know you’re not going to see them again, say a few goodbyes, and, at a little after noon, I hop in my prearranged car for the quick trip to the airport.

When I get to the airport, my jet is waiting for me on the tarmac.

It’s such a welcome sight.

My mom says when she goes to the spa in Palm Springs by herself that it’s good for her soul. And I know for sure that going on this trip by myself is going to be just that.

Good for my soul.

And I’m really looking forward to being completely by myself. No one to worry about but me.

I can do whatever I want.

And I’m going to do it.

I’ve even made a list. A miniature script of my vacation.

Where I commune with nature. Eat fish I caught myself. Do yoga on the beach. Swim with the dolphins. Macramé myself a pair of sandals. Make a necklace out of shells. Write my name in the sand. Build a sand village. Drink milk from a coconut. Lie in the hammock and read. Collect fruit from the trees and make my own tropical smoothies.

Make that spiked smoothies.

Wander down the beach.

Find a hot guy.

Shit. No. No guys.

I remember Vanessa telling me that. How it’s expected.

But I’m not going to do that.

I can’t do that.

I can’t jump from one relationship to the next.

I did that every time Brooklyn hurt me.

Coming to Eastbrooke has been really good for me in so many ways.

I’m stronger. Smarter. Nicer. Tougher. Happier with myself.

I’m doing things that I love.

I know what I want to do with my life.

I’ve finally become the kind of girl my little sisters could look up to.

Except for the lies.

Lying to my friends is killing me.

And the longer I’m there—the closer we get—the more I feel like I’m being eaten from the inside out.

If I go back to Eastbrooke, I’ll end up nothing but a shell.

Last night I went over it from every different angle.

Tried to imagine every different reaction.

How they would react if I told them.

How they would react if someone else told them.

But no matter how I try to spin it in my brain.

The outcome is always the same.

Our trust would be broken.

They’re all amazing. And I know they would understand why I had to lie.

What they won’t understand is why I didn’t trust them enough to tell them my secret.

That’s what will kill their trust.

And Aiden.

I can’t even imagine how Aiden would react.

He’d be crushed.

I’d be crushed.

And it would be ruined.

Vincent is like a massive natural disaster. A hurricane, a tornado, and an earthquake all rolled into one.

And nothing can survive that.

Especially not Eastbrooke.

So I’m not going back.

I pull my wallet out of my bag to grab a tip for the driver. As I do, the glow-in-the dark moon tumbles onto my lap.

“What the hell?” I say, noticing for the first time that there’s writing on it.

I flip it sideways and read.

The End