Chapter 3 - The Search for Lace

Dean Jason grimaces. "Exactly what do you plan on saying to her?"

I shrug. I'm sure my eyes are bloodshot with anger by now. I must resemble a maniac after an adrenaline rush. I check my face on the front camera of my phone. My eyes are fine. I guess I am assuming the worst because I never expected to hear anything about the car accident because my mother took care of whatever needed to be taken care of. Jason raised a good point. What exactly do I plan to saying to Lace when I eventually come face to face with her? Should I scream at her? Or yell at her? So far, I’ve been so angry I haven’t thought about what I want to say to her. The only thing I am sure of is that I want to confront this woman and ask her why chose me to top her useless list.

"How about I tell her, 'mind your own damn business'?" It sounds like a good start.

Jason grins. "It's a start, although you might want to tone it down and eliminate the profanity." He's a gentleman under any circumstance. “You don’t want to end up in jail for harassment.”

"The swearing stays. It'll help me make my point." I clench and unclench my fists. "I'm not going to find her and then just sweet talk her into apologizing. She’s the one who should be begging for my forgiveness for dragging up something in my life that doesn’t concern her."

"So what's the point of finding her then if all you want to do is scare her?" Jason asks, “I thought you wanted to iron things out and at best get her to publish an apology on her blog.”

I glare at Jase. "Dude, which part of I'm going to teach her a lesson haven't you understood?"

Jason shakes his head. "What if she's as hot as hell and blows your mind?"

"Puh–leaze. I'll bet she's some overweight chick who wears prescription glasses and gossips about people in my position on her blog just to get attention. Bloggers usually are. That’s why they hide behind their electronic devices and pick on people they’ve never met. I checked her blog. She’s never published any pictures of herself. Any guesses why?"

Jason shakes his head.

“Because she is probably as ugly as hell, and dumb.”

Jason laughs and shakes his head. "Lace Higgins is actually quite intelligent. I'm not sure what made her blog about you."

I shoot Jason a sour look. "What the hell are you trying to say, huh? Am I not worth blogging about? Are you trying to say I'm dumb?" Wait, why am I suddenly mad at Jason? I don’t want anyone blogging or publishing anything else about me anywhere on the internet.

"You're misunderstanding me, Dean. I meant her posts are not usually the gossipy kind..."

"Yeah, well, Ugly Betty must be desperate for a date or something..." Is a tiny part of me secretly glad that one Lace Higgins found me interesting enough to blog about? Is that why I want to meet her on the pretext of teaching her a lesson? “She definitely needed to draw attention to her blog.”

Jason laughs. "Get over it. I’ve been reading her blog posts for a few months now. She’s an intelligent person. Anyway, if you don’t hurry up, you're going to be late for Economics."

Economics. Yeah. I wonder what possessed me to major in Economics and Business Management, but since I'm acing both majors with distinctions, I don't mind. Economics and Business Management fit in with my long-term goals—I want to work with entrepreneurs who aren't lucky enough to attend university, or have wealthy families to help them start up, and help them launch their business ventures. My parents were pretty impressed when I passed my Bachelor's Degree in Business Management last year and immediately suggested I join a corporate firm after I graduate. As far as my parents are concerned, school is the only thing I've done right since...well...some things are better off buried in the past.

"Spoiled brat, huh?" Jason teases.

I punch his shoulder a little too hard. He stumbles.

"Sorry, bro."

"No sweat. So when are you confronting her?" He grins.

I glare at him. "As soon as I find out where she lives..."

"What are you going to do?" Jason is awfully curious. He massages the red spot on his upper arm where I punched him. "Manhandle her?"

"If that's what it takes to get an apology out of her." Actually, all I want is for her to remove her blog post before it goes viral.

He chuckles softly.

"It wasn't a joke."

"What if manhandling turns her on?" Jason asks.

"I wouldn't do her if she was the last chick on this planet." But now that Jason’s mentioned it, what if this Lace Higgins is hot? What if she’s one of those influences just trying to build her list so she can earn a living?

Jason laughs so loud it echoes in the empty hallways. "You do know most love stories begin with a certain amount of animosity?"

"Only in her fucking dreams."

"Fucking? That is probably what she does to you in her dreams every night." Jason laughs louder at his own joke.

I'd laugh if my mind were not hyperventilating over the possible consequences of Lace Higgins's cyber tabloid piece.

Jason scrawls something on a piece of paper and gives it to me.

"I changed my phone number," he says. "Save this one."

"You could just call me..." I remind him.

"I'm old-fashioned." He laughs and pops the number into my pants pocket himself.

"Watch it," I tell him. "If someone sees us, they're going to think you're massaging my balls."

Jason laughs. "You're such a perv."

Professor Douglas has already begun his lecture on the Californian deficit in the national budget when Jason and I slip into the vacant seats at the back of the lecture hall. Boring shit. I make a note to download the latest facts and memorize them for the upcoming midyear exams. And once I have got economics covered, my mind launches into overdrive. I have to find Lace Higgins. Little ass picker hasn't seen anything yet if she thinks I'm going to sit back and take her immature, sensationalist post lying down. It's obvious she used my name just to get attention.

Where exactly do I start? I haven't exactly stalked a girl before. There was never a need to. Girls usually run after me. Going after Lace Higgins is a first—and I'm not even remotely interested in her. I just need to set the record straight.

Where do I find her? How do I find her?

I scroll down to the end of her blog post. Aha! Facebook. Twitter. A stalker's dream.

Jason texts me during class. You okay?

I grin at my phone and then reply. Yeah. I wipe the smile off my face and check out Lace's Facebook profile. Lace Higgins isn’t so careful after all. I smile to myself as I take a screenshot of her address as posted on Facebook for a sweepstakes contest to win a holiday.

Strangely, she hasn't posted a single picture of herself on her Facebook page. There are tons of pictures of book boyfriends, whoever they are, and clothes. I bet she's about as hot as a crocodile after a mud bath. Ugly Betty better have a damn good excuse for classing me a brat on a public post without getting her facts straight. Because when I'm through with her, she's going to regret writing her stupid blog post.

I close the browser on my phone and mentally congratulate myself for making some progress in finding her. Classes pass by in a blur as I count the minutes. I plan on stopping by my flat long enough to shower and change before driving to Jewel Rock to confront the little tabloid columnist wannabe.

Jason heads straight for the gym after classes end. The less he knows about my plan, the better. He's more of a pacifist. He’d rather have the easy, quieter, more gentle way out. I prefer confrontations—I don't care how messy it gets. I am not in the mood for the gym. I decide to head straight home and take a nap.