by Mercy Amare
“For now,” he says.
We don’t drive too long before Ty pulls the car into a hotel parking lot. We check in and then head to our room. True to his word, there are two beds.
“I didn’t think you’d actually get two beds,” I tell him.
He laughs. “I was tempted not to.”
“So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” I ask.
“We are going on a date,” he answers. “The best date you’ve ever been on.”
“The only dates I’ve ever been on have been with you,” I say. “Technically, all your dates are the best.”
There is a knock on the door.
“Right on time,” Ty says, then opens the door.
“Delivery for Ty Newman,” I hear somebody say.
“That’s me,” he says.
He reaches over to sign something, and then grabs a package from the guy. He shuts the door, then sets the large, rectangular box on the bed.
“That’s for you,” he says.
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah, open it.”
I take the lid off it, and inside is a dress. It’s white with black polka dots. And I love it. It’s definitely something that I would have picked out for myself. I pull the dress out and underneath is a pair of black Converse shoes.
“You’re not a high heel kind of girl,” Ty says.
I grin, remembering our first anniversary from the first time we dated. He bought me a dress and a pair of four-inch heels. I hated the shoes. And the dress was beautiful, but it wasn’t really me. He had my friends pick it out, and they didn’t know my style at all.
“Who picked this out?” I ask.
“I did,” he answers. “I think I know you pretty well now.”
“You do,” I say. “I love this, Ty. Thank you.”
I set the dress back down and wrap my arms around Ty, giving him a hug.
Ty Newman is pretty much the sweetest guy, ever.
“Everything is perfect,” I tell him.
He smiles at me. “I’m glad you think so. Now, go put that dress on. We have reservations and we need to leave in an hour.”
“So bossy,” I say, joking.
“You like it and you know it.”
When it comes to Ty, I do like it.
I grab my bag, dress, and shoes and head towards the bathroom. When I walk past Ty, he smacks me on the butt. He’s the only person I’d let get away with that.
6 p.m.
Something serious.
When I come out of the bathroom, Ty is waiting there with a bouquet of roses. They’re pink. Purple is my favorite color, but ever since I got purple roses from my stalker, I don’t like getting purple roses anymore. Somehow, he knows that. I love that he does.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“So do you,” I say, meaning it. He’s got on a black suit, and he looks hot. “You’re going through a lot of trouble for me.”
“You’re worth it,” he says. “This and so much more.”
Ty Newman is going to ruin me for ever dating anybody else. Because, seriously, how is any guy going to compete with this? Surprise trips to Malibu, dresses, shoes and flowers—it doesn’t get any better than this.
I try to imagine Gabe doing something like this, but I can’t. Pretty much all we did was watch Netflix, and he considered that a date.
Ty holds my hand as we walk out of the room, down the elevator and out of the lobby.
When we get outside, there is a limo waiting for us.
“Mr. Newman, Miss Evers,” the limo driver says, opening the door.
Wow. A limo.
“You seriously didn’t have to do all this,” I tell Ty, as the driver shuts the door. “It’s too much for a date.”
“It’s not enough,” Ty says. “This is just the beginning, Kihanna. I want to show you how much you mean to you. I want to spoil you.”
“You already have,” I admit.
“That’s what I’m hoping,” he says. “I don’t want any guy to ever be able to compare or measure up.”
“Mission accomplished.”
Because, seriously.
“I know you don’t like champagne, so I got sparkling water instead,” Ty says, opening a mini fridge.
I melt. Literally.
“You’re amazing,” I tell him as he pours the sparkling water into the flutes. He passes me a glass and fills up one for him.
He holds out his glass. “Here is to us, and the amazing future that I hope we share.”
I tap my glass against his and take a drink.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I ask.
“I can tell you that we are going to eat,” he answers. “But I have something awesome planned for after we eat. You will have to wait until we get there, though. But I will give you a hint.”
“Okay,” I say.
“It’s something we’ve done before,” he says.
“That could be anything,” I say. “I need a better hint.”
“That is all you’re getting,” he says.
“I guess that will have to do.”
He grins. “I have something serious to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” I say.
“You and me... I want us to be official,” he says. “I want you to be mine, and I want the world to know it.”
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
He nods. “Yes, I am.”
My heart races, but not in a nervous kind of way. In an excited kind of way. And I realize that I don’t have to think about my answer. I know it. Deep down, I know that this is right. That this is what I’ve been waiting for.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”
Ty looks at me, his eyes wide in surprise.
Maybe he expected me to say no.
“Are you seriously saying yes?” he asks.
“Yes. I’m really saying yes,” I say again.
I guess I have told him ‘no’ a lot over the past year. But it’s never been right before. Now, it’s finally right.
“Just clarifying, you, Kihanna Evers, are in an exclusive, committed relationship with me, Ty Newman,” he says. “The whole shebang. No dating other guys, just me. And us going out on dates and putting your Staying Connected relationship status as ‘in a relationship’. Maybe even a couple t-shirt.”
I laugh. “Maybe not the couple t-shirt. But, yes. All that.”
“I’ll talk you into the couple t-shirt,” he says.
“Yeah, probably not.”
Ty grins uncontrollably. “So this is real, right? I’m not just dreaming?”
“You’re not dreaming. It’s real.”
“I’ve been waiting for this moment since I fucked everything up last time,” he says.
“Well, don’t mess it up this time,” I say, knowing that he won’t. I trust Ty. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be with him right now. It’s been slow coming... the trust. Even just a few weeks ago, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get over what he did. But I am over it. He deserves a second chance. I deserve this second chance.
“I won’t,” he says, then kissed my hand.
“I know.”
He pulls out his phone. “Can I update our relationship status?”
“Sure,” I say, pulling out my own phone.
He pauses for a moment. “Do you think this will hurt Gabe’s feelings?”
“Maybe,” I answer, loving that he cares enough to ask. “But Gabe and I have been broken up for a long time now. It’s been plenty of time to move on.”
“Do you think we should wait to do this?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I want the world to know.”
He smiles at my response, and then clicks something on his phone. A few seconds later, mine vibrates. I hit accept, and then it’s Staying Connected official.
Ty Newman and Kihanna Evers are in a relationship.
Before I exit the app, we are already getting likes and comments.
And I d
on’t feel even a little bit of doubt. This is the right thing for me right now.
10 p.m.
The best part.
After eating dinner, Ty is being all mysterious. We pull up to a small concert arena that is packed, and I’m wondering what is going on.
“Are we watching a concert?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. He just gets out of the limo and holds out his hand to help me out.
Once I’m out, Ty doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks.
“Once or twice,” I say. “But feel free to say it again.”
He grins. “You are beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. And whatever other adjectives that are used to describe somebody who looks as amazing as you do right now. You with your cute dress, Converse, and slightly messy hair. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better than you do right now.”
“My hair is messy because of you,” I say, running my free hand over it.
Just because Ty and I definitely aren’t having sex doesn’t mean we can’t make out. Making out with him is fun, and it makes me that much more excited for December 6—the date we both agreed we could have sex.
Ty and I walk inside the arena. There aren’t any lines, and I can hear music already playing. I don’t recognize the band.
“The reason we’re here should be on the stage in about five minutes,” he says.
We make our way to our seats. We walk past a ton of screaming people. Some people are dancing, some are singing along, and some people have obviously had a little too much to drink.
Finally, we get to our seats.
They’re in the front row.
I still have no clue what’s going on. I mean, obviously we’re seeing a concert, but Ty said we’re doing something we’ve done before.
The band ends their set, and a bunch of guys run out on stage and change a few things around. About three minutes later, the band comes out. It’s then that I realize—Ty and I have seen this band before. On our very first date.
“Oh, my God!” I say, excitedly. “I can’t believe you remembered.”
He grins.
They start singing, and I realize there is something different about the band. The original singer they had isn’t in the band anymore, which is a good thing. That guy sucked. And instead, another girl is singing lead. They sound so much better. And there are a lot more people here tonight than there were the first time we saw them.
“They dumped their lead singer and got a record deal,” Ty says. “Their EP was so popular that the record company put them in the recording studio to work on their full length album and this is the kick off for their world tour.”
“That’s so awesome!”
And it is. I can say that I saw them before they got famous.
I love that we saw them on our first date and now we’re seeing them again on our first date as boyfriend and girlfriend over a year later. This pretty much makes Ty the most romantic guy on the planet.
The best part?
Ty is mine.
I could definitely get use to this.
Saturday, November 13
9 a.m.
Separate rooms.
I wake up the next morning with a text from Gabe. I expect him to comment on my changed relationship status with Ty, but he doesn’t. I’m trying to figure out if that is a good or bad thing.
Gabe: Get home as soon as you can. Got new info that I’d rather not share via text.
I show Ty the text message.
“I guess we are going back early,” Ty says, after reading it.
“We don’t have to,” I say.
“Figuring out your stalker situation is a lot more important than spending a romantic weekend in Malibu,” he says.
“I wish we didn’t have to go back at all. This weekend just started, and it’s already been so epic. You planned the perfect date.”
“I tried,” he says, getting out of bed. “Now, let’s get ready and go home. We will just have to do something at Berkeley this weekend.”
“Maybe next weekend things will be less crazy and we will be able to go home,” I say.
“We are, because next weekend starts our Thanksgiving break,” he says.
“Thanksgiving,” I say, then sigh. “I guess that means we are going to go to my parent’s cabin where it’s cold and there is no cell reception. My dad and Jack Johnson will spend the whole time skiing, Veronica will complain about how I dress, and Libby will tell me how much she hopes Gabe and I will get back together. Of course Toby will be high the whole time and Gabe will annoy the crap out of me.”
“I will be there,” Ty says.
“And since we’re not having sex, I’ll have to fight you off,” I joke. “Maybe I’ll just get high with Toby.”
“It could be fun. I haven’t smoked weed in a long time,” he says.
“I’ve never done it.”
“You know, sometimes I forget how innocent you are,” he says.
“I’m not that innocent,” I say. “Not anymore. And I’m pretty sure that you’re the one who corrupted me.”
“Naw. You’re still innocent.”
I roll my eyes and get out of bed. “I’m taking a shower.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Ty Newman,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “If you don’t stop doing that, next time I will insist we get separate rooms.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he says. “Fine, I’ll behave. For now.”
That’s as good as it’s going to get.
This whole no sex thing is going to be harder than I thought.
3 p.m.
IP address.
When Ty and I get back from Malibu, Gabe is waiting for us in the living room.
He doesn’t look happy.
“Where were you?” Gabe asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Malibu,” I answer. “We went to see a concert last night. I thought you knew. Sorry.”
“Right,” Gabe says. “While you two were hooking up in a hotel, I stayed up all night working my ass off for you.”
“Sorry,” I say, not knowing what else I can say. I’m not going to correct Gabe and say that Ty and I didn’t have sex because it’s none of his business.
“You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “We broke up. You can be out with whomever you want. It’s none of my business.”
“Exactly,” I say, agreeing with him.
“So, Olivia,” Gabe says. “She’s gone off the grid. Since September there has been no phone activity, no credit cards used, not even a contact with her mom. There is nothing.”
“No,” I say. “She has to be talking with her mom. If she wasn’t, I know she would report Olivia missing.”
“Unless she is sending letters, there hasn’t been any contact.”
“Well, maybe she is sending letters,” Ty says.
“Maybe,” Gabe says, truly considering what Ty said.
“So, you have no idea where Olivia is?” I ask.
Gabe shrugs. “Maybe outside our apartment.”
I shiver at the thought. It’s bad enough knowing that Brian is out there, but now I have to consider the possibility that there are two people watching my every move.
“Do you think Brian and Olivia are working together?” Ty asks.
I didn’t even think about that, but it makes sense.
“What about the email I got from Olivia?” I ask.
“What about it?” Gabe asks.
“Can’t you trace her IP address or something?” I ask.
“Bring me your computer,” he says.
“Ugh, okay,” I say.
Going back to my room, I grab my computer then come back to the living room and hand it to Gabe. I’m about to offer to type in my passwords when he opens it and unlocks it himself.
“How...” my voice trails off.
“You should change your passwords,” he says. “It’s way too easy to figure out. It’s also
been the same since we started dating last year.”
I should be mad at him, but he’s helping me.
Memo to self: change all my passwords immediately.
I use the same password for everything, which I know is a big no-no. If Gabe was able to figure out my password that easily, surely other people would be too. Which means they have access to Staying Connected, Instagram, and all my other social media sites.
“Ugh, Gabe,” I say.
“Yeah?” he asks, not looking up from the computer.
“You haven’t logged into my Snapchat, right?” I ask.
Finally, he looks up. “Why? Have you been sending naughty pictures?”
My face warms at his comment. “That is none of your business.”
Gabe laughs.
“Gabe, I’m serious.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t looked up your naughty pictures on Snapchat,” he says. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’ve seen it all before. We’ve had sex. Lots of times.”
“I wouldn’t say lots,” I say.
I’ve probably had more sex with Ty in a month’s span than I did with Gabe during the course of the five months we were together. I was almost relieved on the nights Gabe didn’t want to have sex. That probably should have told me something.
Gabe just frowns at me, once again reminding me why I shouldn’t live with my ex-boyfriend.
I should say ex-boyfriends, but technically, Ty is my boyfriend again.
Oh, my God. I have a boyfriend. And it’s Ty. Oh, the irony.
“So you two are dating now. Officially,” Gabe says, looking back at the computer screen.
“Yes,” I say.
“Congratulations,” he says, though I can hear the sarcasm in his voice.
I decide to let it slide. For now.
“Thanks,” I say.
Ty remains quiet, thankfully.
“You’re going to have to stop the Snapchat pictures,” Ty says.
I look at him. “Why?”
“Because, what if somebody is looking at the pictures you send,” he says. “Or what if somebody decides to do it now that they know you send pictures.”
