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"Andy, don't you think it's a little odd that all the strange things that have been happening to you started just after you met Brad?"
I hadn't really looked into the timeline before. Now that I think about it, what she's saying is correct, but what has that got to do with anything?
"And every time something happens, it ends up in Brad's favor. Like, when the lights went out in the changerooms, who was conveniently there to save you and take you for dinner? After your birthday party, who magically came to your rescue and let you stay the night at his place? The other night when you were upset after the movie, who turned up at the exact right time to comfort you? It's all a pretty big coincidence, don't you think?"
I blink back at them, not really finding words to argue the point. My mind is racing as I try and think about all the times she's talking about. At the time, I never even considered Brad could be the one doing this to me. What would he stand to gain from any of it? He's gorgeous, wealthy, charming, he could get any girl he wanted. He wouldn't need to resort to pulling stunts like this so I took notice of him. There is no way he would do anything like this. He wouldn't need to.
I look between my friends. They both look so serious. They're worried about me, and I appreciate their concern, but they're wrong on this. "Sorry, Darcy, I know you're just trying to help, but what you're saying makes no sense at all."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Really? Well, what happened tonight then, Andy? You tell the boy you need space, that you need to break it off so all the stalking shit will stop. Right? Did he respect your wishes? My bet is he waited for everyone else to leave then he approached you, said something you couldn't resist, and you melted. He has you right where he wants you. You're scared and running to him for comfort, you know I'm right here."
I glance to Luna. Is she really thinking this is all true as well? She gives me a small sympathetic smile that tells me all I need to know. They both think Brad is my stalker, a wolf in sheep's clothing. I shake my head slowly from side to side, trying to get rid of the thought she just planted there. I can't even process what my friends are saying, I don't want to. "There is no way this is him. He has no reason to do any of this, why would he?"
"I think it's pretty obvious. He is used to getting what he wants, and you, my girl, play hard to get better than anyone I know. He was obsessed with you after that night you met at the club, so he worked out a way to get you. It's probably the whole reason he took the job as our coach. He's a predator, Andy."
I don't want to hear any more. I turn away from my so-called friends and stride up the street. I need to get away from them, from their silly accusations. I can't believe they would think all of this about him.
"Where are you going? We have to get to dinner," calls Luna.
"Back to my hotel room. I'm not hungry," I yell back, swiping the angry tears that have started rolling down my cheeks. This is bullshit. My best friends think the guy I'm inlovewith is my stalker. Fuck, I just admitted to myself that I'm in love with Brad. I am, I know I am. This is so messed up.
I make it to my room somehow, my eyes blurry, my head thumping, and let myself in, then slam the door, throwing myself on my bed and burying my head in my pillow.
I want to cry so hard I wash away all the uncertainty, all the shitty thoughts that have now burrowed their way into my brain. I can't unhear what my friends said. All the events of the last few months are spinning by. Yes, some of it adds up, but that doesn't mean it's true… does it? He wouldn't do this to me. He knows how much it's messing with my head. There is just no way it's him. There has to be another explanation.
But the more I think about it, the more it all makes sense. Every time something happened, he was the hero, strategically placed, waiting to rescue me. And if two of the people who love me and I trust completely could be thinking this, then maybe there is something to it.
I have no idea how long I lie on my hotel bed feeling sorry for myself, but I'm pulled from my self-pity party by the buzz of a text on my phone.
Brad:Where are you?
He is probably wondering why I never showed up at dinner. I don't feel like having to talk to him, so I ignore his message and decide to change into my pajamas and go to bed instead. My head has been pumping since I started crying, and I just need to sleep it off.
I pull the pale blue shirt I have been sleeping in this week from my bag and slip it on. It's the one I borrowed of Brad's on my birthday. I never gave it back, and somehow, wearing it brings me comfort. Even tonight when I'm full of so much uncertainly about him. I turn off the lights and get comfy in bed, trying to quieten the thoughts.
My phone lights up and I glance to see who's calling. Brad. I ignore it and close my eyes. It vibrates on the side table next to me then stops. Then starts up again. He's not giving up easily.
My head fucking hurts. Why am I not surprised? Stress always has that effect on me, and at the moment, everything feels all too much. I'm completely overwhelmed with my life. My first red card ever, all because I was tired and frustrated at myself. It was a stupid mistake, and it shouldn't have happened.
Then there is the other mess, all the warning messages to stay away from Brad, and Luna and Darcy hating on him. Is he my stalker? Am I that dense that I have fallen for my own enemy?
Brad
Why the fuck won't she answer her fucking phone? Both her friends turned up at dinner not too long after me, but she was nowhere to be seen. She knows how worried I get about her. If she wasn't going to bother turning up, the least she could have done is let me know.
I try her again.
Nothing.
I start to panic, all the thoughts of what could have gone wrong flicking through my head. Fuck it, I'm going to find her. I'm standing out front of the restaurant and the meal is practically over by now anyway, so I don't bother going back in. I stalk straight for the hotel we're staying in tonight, praying that she's in her room sulking, not taken by this crazy guy.
I arrive at her room and pound on the door. She'd better be in there. I'm praying to whoever will listen, please let her be okay.
I hear movement inside the room, and I start to relax a little knowing she's at least safe. But clearly ignoring my calls. She cracks open the door enough that I can see her long blonde hair and pretty pale blue eyes staring back at me. She looks tired and upset, like she's been crying. She's dressed for bed in just an oversized T-shirt, one I recognize as mine, the one I lent her the morning after her birthday.
"What are you doing here?" she whispers, looking irritated by my presence. She hangs onto the door handle, almost hiding behind the door and keeping distance between us.
"Making sure you're alright. You didn't turn up at dinner," I say back, just as irritated. What is going on with her? I close the gap, nudging the door open a little more, forcing her to have to take a step back and let me in. I don't want to be standing in the hallway where just anyone could walk past at any moment. I close the door behind me and face her. "What happened to you tonight?"
