Dying For Love

Chapter 31

Dean POV

I sit in the dark, staring at my computer screen. I've been staring at the same damn screen for over a month now, and nothing has changed! I expected Megan to be a little more concerned about where her friend disappeared off to, but apparently not, since her phone signal is going through the same routine every day. She hasn't gotten even remotely close to the warehouse.

A part of me wants to keep leaving little clues to lure her to it, but I don't think that's a safe idea for me. Plus, Johnny has been going to the warehouse every day to see if anything has changed, which it hasn't. So I'm already risking enough sketchiness as it is. I just have to be patient, and hope that she goes on the hunt for Jasper soon.

Suddenly, the lights in my hotel room turn on, and I'm momentarily blinded.

"Ah! What the fuck, Johnny?!" I yell, squinting at my partner that just walked through the door.

"Sorry, the lights were off. I thought you weren't here." Johnny says, shrugging and not looking or sounding apologetic at all.

"Well, I am. I always am." I snap, looking at my computer again.

"Which is why you should go outside." He says, in almost a stern voice.

"Who are you, my mother?" I demand, looking at him skeptically.

"I set you up for a date." He says bluntly, pulling out his phone.

"What?!" I demand, jumping up off the bed. "With who? Megan?"

"No. I'm trying to get you over Megan. As interesting as you genius plan sounds, it's not working. Everything you've tried so far has failed. Megan is with Colin now, so you have to let it go. You have to let her go. That's why I made you an account on Tinder, and you got a match. You need to get a new girlfriend, man. Someone that is not Megan. You need to forget about her, this obsession is not healthy." Johnny explains calmly, pulling up something on his phone.

As much as I hate to admit it, Johnny does have a point. None of my plans are working, and every time I try to get closer to Megan, it's like she's always two steps away from me. Maybe I should try something new, maybe having a new girl would be better for me.

"Alright," I say with a sigh. "tell me what I need to know."

—-

"My name is Dean Stephenson, I am nineteen years old. I live in an apartment a few blocks away from here. My favourite movie is Star Wars, and I like to play video games." I recite in my head, trying to remember all the things my Tinder profile says about me.

I'm sitting at a table on the patio of a coffee shop, waiting for my date to show up.

"Her name is Emily Thorn, she's eighteen years old, and she's 5'6. She has a passion for dance, baking and horseback riding. She's also going to a dance school that's pretty much around the corner, so chances are she's going to be coming from there to meet me here." I realize, with an internal eye roll.

This girl sounds like the epitome of basic and dry, but I promised Johnny I'd give her a chance. She sounds nothing like Megan though, which is probably why he set me up with someone like Emily.

I check my phone briefly, and see that this girl is nearly ten minutes late.

"This is so stupid." I mutter, half tempted to get up and dip.

Before I can, however, a girl approaches me from down the sidewalk. She has long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, light basic makeup, a perfect body structure, and a tight pink dress that shows off all her curves.

This girl is kinda hot.... but I love Megan. Nothing is going to change my mind on that.

"Hi, are you Dean?" She asks politely, in a high voice you would expect from a Barbie girl like her.

"I am." I say casually, trying to keep a smile on my face.

Emily sits down and starts talking. As our conversation goes on, however, I start to regret going on this date more and more.

She may be a pretty face, but her personality sucks. She's about as interesting as sandpaper, she has no flare to her like how Megan has, her voice gets very irritating to listen to after a few minutes, AND SHE NEVER STOPS TALKING.

After sitting here for half an hour, I'm barely able to get two words in. All she cares about are horses and her ego with dance competitions. She is nothing like Megan, and all the other girls I dated in the past are so much better than this one, which says a lot.

If we were alone right now, I would cut out her tongue to make her stop talking. Then I would saw off her feet, so she can't dance or ride anymore. Then I would break both her hands, so she can't bake for a really long time. After that, I would probably just kill her anyway, because why not.

Finally, after an extremely mind numbing hour of torture, I'm finally able to leave.

"That was really fun, can I get your number please?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet way.

I smile at her, then say. "No."

I then turn around and walk down the street, not glancing back once at the girl named Emily.

As I'm walking, I get a text. I pull out my phone, and once I read it, my heart immediately starts speeding up.

Johnny: You might want to check your tracker thing on your computer. I think Megan has been to the warehouse and has found your message. Congratulations man, she took the bait.