Follow Me Back (complete first draft of the published book)

Chapter 37: Fangirling

Chapter 37: Fangirling

Tessa sat alone in the empty interrogation room, her mind still buzzing from everything she'd just been told. How was it possible, she wondered, that she wasn't absolutely paralyzed with panic right now? How was she still holding it together? She'd just stood face to face with her predator. She didn't even know what might have happened if the police hadn't shown up when they did. How was she not a mass of quivering jelly on the floor?

If anything, she only felt relief. The monster was no longer out there, lurking in the shadows, breathing down her neck. She felt safe for the first time since it all began a year ago. She'd faced her darkest fears, and now they were locked away for good - locked up somewhere in this police station in a 6x8 cell.

Maybe the shock would hit her later. She probably shouldn't be alone right now. But she wouldn't be alone for long. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. She didn't have to be alone anymore. Taylor would be with her. Or whatever his name was - it didn't really matter. What mattered was that he existed. A real guy, who really cared about her, who would hold her in his arms and keep her safe. He was real.

It had all seemed so hopeless before - from the instant she'd recognized the man she'd let into her house. As terrified as she had been in that moment, even worse was the sinking feeling afterward, as she'd sat here in this interrogation room, answering all those questions, and slowly waking up to the reality: Taylor, the boy she thought she loved, vanished. Poof. . . . Gone. A puff of smoke. A trick of the eye. A fantasy that never really existed.

But thank God she'd had it wrong.

The despair had lifted a few moments ago, with a few simple words from the detectives. The strands of their conversation still flitted through her mind.

"The person you've been chatting with on Twitter was not Blair Duncan. . . ."

"You're telling me there's actually a Taylor. A real Taylor? . . . "

The policemen had left her here a few minutes ago and gone to fetch him. Any second now, he'd be here. The real Taylor. What would he look like? Cute? Not that it mattered really. He could be a four foot tall hunchback for all she cared. Just as long as he had two strong arms to wrap around her, and two broad shoulders to lay her head against. But that didn't worry her. She felt certain, somehow, that he would.

Something else niggled at the back of her mind, though. Something wasn't sitting right. Some detail still didn't add up. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt a tingle of misgiving mixed in with the anticipation. Tessa furrowed her forehead, trying to identify the hole in the story the police had just told her. They'd overlooked something. She knew they had. But what? What could it be-

She let out a gasp as it hit her. Then she spoke the answer aloud to the empty room. "They said Taylor sent the police to my house, but he couldn't have. I never told him where I lived."

A voice sounded behind her, and Tessa swiveled in her chair in surprise.

"Yeah, I think Blair was counting on it that I didn't have your address."

"Oh my God." Tessa's mouth formed the soundless words, as her eyes focused on the man who had spoken.

"I got it from the MTV people. Or my manager did, anyway."

"You're Eric Thorn," she whispered.

He was standing uncertainly in the doorway of the interrogation room, waiting for her to speak. He took a hesitant step in her direction. "Hi, Tessa."

"You're Eric Thorn," she said again, a little louder.

"Eric Taylor Thorn," he corrected, with a trace of a cocky grin on his lips. "You'd think a super-fan like you would know my middle name."

She shook her head in confusion. "What-Why-Don't you have a concert right now? Why are you-I don't understand."

He pulled out the metal folding chair beside her and took a seat at the interrogation table. She watched him, still confused. He fished for something in his jacket pocket. At last he took it out and set it on the table.

A pink rabbit's foot.

Tessa's eyes widened when she saw it. Eric watched her face with a crooked smile, waiting for the full impact of the truth to register. He knew what would come next - or he could guess, at any rate. The unintelligible fangirl scream. Just like when he'd followed her, months ago, and she'd tweeted in response: "OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!"

But the expression on her face didn't look like fangirling. If anything, she looked like she was going to throw up.

"Are you OK?" he asked. He reached out to touch her arm, but she edged her chair away.

"You too?" she said. "They let you read it, too?"

"What? Who let me read what?"

"The police."

It was his turn now to shake his head in confusion. "I don't understand."

"They let you read all my messages? My private stuff?"

"No, no, no." He shook his head more vigorously. She still hadn't wrapped her head around it. He tried again to explain. "No, Tessa. I am Taylor. I'm the guy you were talking to all this time."

He waited for the meaning of the words to penetrate. He watched as her look of incomprehension turned to shock. "No, you're not," she said. "You're Eric Thorn."

"I used my middle name."

"No!" she said again. "You're Eric Thorn. You're not a real person."

Eric couldn't help but smile again at the dumbfounded expression on her face. "Come on. You know that isn't true."

"Where's the real Taylor? They told me there was a real Taylor."

"Tessa-"

"Is this for MTV or something? Is this still part of the show right now?"

She didn't return his smile.  If anything, she looked horrified.  Eric tried to school his features into an expression of concern, but he couldn't quite manage it. The corners of his mouth seemed to have a mind of their own.

He couldn't help it. How could he not smile? He was finally here, meeting Tessa. He finally got to see her face. And damn if it wasn't a sight worth waiting for. She looked like she'd been through hell, of course. She had a scratchy-looking grey blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The police must have given it to her for warmth. She'd pulled her long brown hair away from her face in a matted-down ponytail.  Her makeup was hopelessly smudged, with dark rings around both eyes from rubbing away her mascara. But none of that mattered. None if it could hide what he saw in front of him. Beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever dared to hope.

He gave up on the battle to control his mouth, and his smile broadened further.

"You're laughing. You think this is funny," she said.

"No! Well, maybe just a little," he confessed with a one-shouldered shrug. "You have to admit, Tessa, it would've been the Catfish episode to end all Catfish episodes."

She just stared at him.

"No?" he added, still smirking. "Come on! You have a pillowcase with my face on it. You wrote a story about me called Obsessed! And now it turns out that I'm the one who's been catfishing you?"

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, Tessa." His smile deepened again as he chuckled. "You can't tell me that's not even a teensy weensy bit funny."

She let go of the blanket she was clutching and slapped him hard across the face.

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