Wrong Number

Chapter 11

Yodel: P you're making this sound way worst than it is

P: Am I?

Yodel: Yes

P: So then tell me something about you. Anything.
P: That isn't your name or where you live

P: Well????????

P: Luke??????

P: Thank you for proving my point 😒✋

Yodel: It's not that simple 😫

P: You refuse to tell me anything about yourself. I'm going to block you now. Simple.
P: Goodbye luke

I hit the contact button and hover over the Block this Caller option. My phones vibrating in my hand with multiple messages from him and something in my chest doesn't let me press it.

Instead I opt for switching on the do not disturb feature on his messages. I do manage to catch a glimpse of them on my way out of the text convo though. They're mainly a string of pleas not to block him and just please give me time.

I keep strong and exit the texts.

Even though I didn't block him doesn't mean I planned on caving anytime soon. And while I figure everything out I watch the number in the red bubble on my message icon go higher and higher.

-

I settle in for the night, hoarding all the snacks we owned and disappearing to my room. My phone sits quiet atop my pile of dirty clothes at the corner of my room.

So what if I glance at it more than a few times during the movie I was trying to watch?

It's not like I was checking it or caving. Because I'm not caving. He's sketchy. He needs to tell me something about himself. I'm not being unreasonable. I'd go for anything at this point. A job title. A middle name. A mom name. I don't care.

It's not like I was asking him to tell me all his deepest darkest secrets - I haven't even asked for a damn photo! Granted he hasn't either but I'm sure that was for his own selfish reasons. If he asked for a picture of me that would mean he'd in turn have to send me one of him. And God forbid I actually get to know anything about him.

Frustrating. He was frustrating. Added to the few things I knew for sure about him.

Every half hour or so Haley or Sean knock on my door just to make sure I haven't gone completely off the rail I'm sure.

They don't ask directly though. They use poor excuses like 'have you seen my mixing bowl' or 'do we need more milk' it's like they don't even bother trying. Each time I reply with a hum of I'm fine, still fine, go to sleep I'm fine and finally I'm going to sleep you can stop checking on me.

-

I'm out by 12 but wake about an hour later. There's no particular reason other than the fact that there was just too much on my mind and my body was restless. I toss and turn for at least 40 minutes before letting out the biggest huff of breath, flopping flat on my back and staring up at my white ceiling. If there was any reason to hate Luke this would be it.