Gotta Be You

Chapter 24- Self-Stalking

Self-stalking to me was when I typed my name into Google and saw the results. It was ok and it didn’t bother me when there was hate. I was expecting it to only get worse, but then better.

            I typed my password into my laptop, opening up google chrome.

            Brooklyn Reid I typed into the search bar. 1,255,968 results, much more than the usual amount, 16.

            I clicked on the second one, a tumblr. I had a feeling this was going to be bad. The page looked quite innocent, if you couldn’t read.

            We all know Brooklyn Reid don’t we? Part of our graduating class of 2012, and voted most likely to wear the best outfits. Well. From an anonymous source, I can tell you that Brooklyn is such a fake. This phony has been seen around town with One Direction. How does she pull off something like this? I have a feeling that this one perfect princess has a secret.

            Surprisingly the blog post didn’t bother me. I opened another one. This time it was an open chat, it was still going. I opened it, putting in a fake name.

            MadisonR. Has joined the conversation

            Cece: I am just saying, the blog post was nothing but the truth.

            “This was about the anonymous blog post I just read” I said to myself, intantly paying more attention to the conversation.

            Hannah: That may be true. But how is *she* good enough for them?

            Cece: Who knows. It just seems weird to me that *she* got them and we didn’t

            Hannah: IKR?!?!

            Cece: Well, we have to go. Spa time!!!

            Cece has left the conversation

            Hannah has left the conversation.

            “And Brooklyn and left the conversation.” I mumbled to myself, then I started thinking.

            There are only two people that I know that talked like that. And they were reading a local blog post. These haters went to my school! Cece is Christy Mayfield, the cheerleading vice-captain and Hannah is Hallie Donovan, her “best friend”, they are the *only* ones who would actually talk about me like that. I never hurt a fly, let alone a person. And there is only one person who would write that blog post. Monica Canton. The ruler of the cheerleaders and hater of me since 3rd grade when I accidentally spilled milk on her shoulder. I thought.

            I checked my watch; it had been 13 minutes since I left Tyler’s. I quickly closed my laptop and started playing on my phone. I wasn’t quite sure if I was “aloud” to look at hate.

            “Brook?” I heard Emily call, most likely from the kitchen.

            “In here.” I called as she walked into my room.

            “Tyler is in the living room. So what are we planning on doing?”

            “I honestly have no idea. But I have a feeling they are here now. I have to go.” I said, I didn’t want to be rude but I did not want to have the awkward talk.