Believe it or not, Robbie was actually the one me and Beck had the most trouble with. We knew we needed something big; he was a clueless idiot, but Robbie had this odd tendency to think I was invincible, like I was Supergirl or something (that's the one with the banging tits who's Supermans like, cousin right? Or is that Powergirl? I don't listen when Robbie rambles a lot of the time.). But he's also a wimp. If something went down around him, he'd demand we call the police.

So it had to be carefully done. And the best way to control the situation, was to make it one where it was severe enough I'd have to call the police about it. And big enough to give Robbie a scare, to make him believe this was something that had really shaken me.

So Beck came up with the idea of, when Robbie was coming over for a project, we claim someone – the Stalker – was in my house. It'd be enough to rattle anyone. And added with my idea of removing some of my stuff and messing the place up, like the stalker had been in my room? Well, that was just sprinkles on top of the sundae. Not only did it freak Robbie out, but it made a good police report.

So, since Beck's last period was a freebie in school, he headed out early – with the excuse of having to pick up a present for his dad at the mall, for his dads birthday. It kind of sucked I couldn't go, but the whole restaurant excuse we gave the others – that I was banned from there, and I didn't want his dad to have to go somewhere that wasn't his favourite – was true anyway. It was a restaurant of slutty waitresses and rubbery shrimp.

Of course, Beck already had a present for his dad – we'd got it the weekend before, at the mall – so instead of going to pick something up, he went to my house. No maids would be there, because my dad and Julia knew how much I found it weird being in the house with just them – I always felt awkward, with them picking up behind me if I made a mess. Plus, I get on well with the maids – even if my dad didn't give them the days both him and Julia weren't around off, they'd happily take a few paid days off without giving my dad any hint of it, then come back the last day and catch up on all the cleaning they missed.

So, with no parents or step parents or maids or gardeners around, it was simple for Beck, dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie with the hood pulled up to hide his face, just in case someone saw him, to slip in the side gate, unlock the door and unarm the alarms, then go up to my bedroom after practically dousing the route he took with Ryders specific brand of cologne – Drakkar Noir, which is just...like, did he just want to be a ridiculous high school cliché? Beck wore Boss In Motion, which was about 300 times nicer but maybe I'm bias. I think he maybe had a little bit too much fun in there – the underwear drawer spread across the floor wasn't in the original plan, neither was the shredded clothing – but damn it worked even better than I expected. And he really did take a bunch of my stuff - pre-agreed upon - things for me to plant in Ryder's room later on.

From his silence and horror, he believed it no doubt (it was a nice touch, I decided, when I grabbed his hand too. Robbie knew how big a deal that was for me. How much I hated touching anyone. But for Tori's sake I managed to get past it.) And I know Andre had been ranting to him about it, so Robbie would automatically connect this in his brain to the phonecalls and photos; and most importantly, to the idea that Andre was loudly proclaiming to anyone who would listen – that it was Ryder.

It all went to plan. Beck managed to do his tasks in my house before school even finished, and was back home getting ready for dinner with his family – it was a shame I'd interrupt it with an impromptu phone call, but Beck was insistent that it was fine. It was important he really was at dinner, just in case someone started snooping. We couldn't take any risks. If we were caught, well, that'd be the end of it. We'd end up in trouble with the police – no crime had been committed against anyone else, but it was still filing false charges. And possible conspiracy to commit something or other. I dunno, it's not exactly something I could ask my dad or the police about, is it? So if we had to say something, or plan something, we tried to make it as close to the truth as possible. Less chance of getting caught in a lie that way.

The best part of the whole thing was, undoubtedly, the three days we got to stay in the hotel. I'm not sure if you know this, but the Ritz-Carlton in LA is lush. And an executive suite? It was amazing. We didn't leave the hotel room for the next three days. The day after the 'break in' was a Friday, but we bunked off – no one could expect me to not be shaken up right? And Beck explained everything to Cat and Andre, who totally understood us just wanting to hide away for a few days. Well, Beck left the hotel room just once, to nip to the store around the corner and get a few bottles of vodka and rum and a bottle of champagne, so we didn't have to raid the mini-bar. We sat on the balcony, eating room service food, looking over the view of the ocean, sharing cigarettes and drinking bad champagne straight from the bottle. And every single surface was used for sex, at least once.

Of course, the security that my dad installed, with actual guards at the front gate and walking the grounds made things a little harder – couldn't really sneak out to meet Ryder anymore, after all, but my dad was always happy if I said I was going across to see him, when Beck was strategically at play rehearsals or out seeing his family/friends. I knew my dads eagerness would end up hurting him in the future – how would he feel, knowing he'd been pushing his daughter into the arms of her stalker and future rapist? And despite people thinking I hated him, I do feel bad about that. I know he blames himself for pushing me and Ryder together. But it needed to happen, to get justice.

I had to play down the whole stalker thing for Ryder. If he knew, and started acting all protective about it, it might throw a spanner in the works. So I just said that we'd had a break in, that my dad was being over protective. My dad never spoke of the stalking to Ryder or Ryder's dad, because he knew I wanted to keep it completely quiet. No one outside of the police force other than me, Beck, my dad and Julia, Cat, Robbie and Andre knew about the stalker, which was just how I wanted it. The less people who knew, the less messy it would get.