After the disastrous ending to the night with Phoebe, I spent the next day sulking and barely aware of my surroundings.

I had econ, the class that David had warned me about. I eyed Keaton from my seat near the back of the class but didn't speak a word to him. He took notes as he usually did, head down, hair flopping over his face as he scribbled on a tablet. He didn't notice me staring. It didn't even seem like he knew I existed.

But David said he was planning to ruin my life.

But did I trust David? Did he actually want to help me or was this another manipulation? Another technique to screw me over.

I was tired. I didn't want to deal with games anymore. I just wanted things to be normal again, or at least as close to normal as they could be. Cassidy hadn't spoken to me after what had happened last night. I didn't know if she was mad at me.

I tried to think of why she might be. I guess we did interrupt her and Calvin's date a little bit. But she interrupted mine, too? If anything, maybe she was irritated that I wasn't honest with her. That I hadn't been open about Phoebe. Still, I was planning on telling her eventually. I guess it was weird since Phoebe was more her friend than mine and...

And I was going on another thought tangent assuming the worst. Cassidy would tell me if she was mad at me. I knew that.

Phoebe also hadn't texted me back. I'd left a short message telling her that I'm sorry for how things got a bit weird the night before. Was she also mad at me? No, right? The problem was just that we didn't know what we were. I didn't know what we were doing.

But frankly, I was done with secrets. I didn't know if I could rely on using Phoebe to stop people from coming after me at parties and such. And I couldn't stop David or Keaton or Paul or whoever from freely giving random people on the internet my address.

So, rather than going the long route of trying to create a reputation involving Phoebe, I was going to nip the issue at the bud.

At the end of econ class, I pulled out my phone and texted David, "I want to meet with you. Tonight."

And then, I waited.

__________________________________

Maybe a year ago I would never have met with him. But after everything I had been through in the past couple of months, I didn't care anymore.

We met at an intersection by the math building that I used to take multivariable calculus in. The sun was nearly set, the sky a bright red, my shadow stalking me as I traversed the cobblestone pathway. I had to watch my step: my rain boots kept getting caught between the cracks of the cobblestone. My hair was pulled back in a strict bun, my makeup lightly done, so subtle that most wouldn't even notice I'd done something. I wanted to feel a little bit less like an absolute mess. I wanted order somewhere, especially if it wasn't inside of me.

David was on time.

We headed into the bookstore, thankfully quite empty at this time of day. As we walked in, the cashier at the front desk eyed us. It was almost 5 PM.

Initially, I refused to say a word. It took five minutes of silence, the two of us standing in the fantasy section as I brushed my fingers over a few books that sounded interesting to me. I'd been craving something mystical lately. Something that could take me right out of my crappy life.

"Why did you text me?" David said, shrugging his shoulders exasperatedly. He scoffed.

"I want to wrap up loose ends," I replied, finally facing him. I crossed my arms, leaned back against the wall of books, and stared at him. Today, he looked quite put together. His hair had been gelled and his shoes were a shining obsidian.

"How? I already told you everything that I know." He shuffled his feet. "I'm not hiding anything from you. Why would I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Right, why would you? It's not like you had a vendetta against me."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Whatever. I'm over it. I don't care anymore. I met a girl, okay? And I just don't want to deal with this anymore or have her find out about any of it. It's bad enough that Keaton and Paul have been trying to bring it up when she is around."

"You still started this. And I'm still being affected by it." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and found my text messaging app. Over 1000 unread messages. I'd stopped notifications entirely and even Cassidy had been having trouble reaching me. I turned the screen around so he could see it. "This was all caused by you." I scrolled down the screen, showing messages upon messages upon messages, all bachelor's whom David or Keaton or Paul or whoever had given my phone number to.

"I already stopped!" David retorted. "I swear. I did. You know what, fine, I can prove it."

He pulled his phone out, opened it, and handed it to me, completely free of will. I stared at his outstretched hand. Then, I took the phone.

I glanced up at him and then down at the opened phone.

"You can go through my apps. I don't have any of the dating apps on there anymore."

Just to prove his point, I swiped through one page of apps, then the next, then the next. He was right. There was absolutely nothing. No evidence of him harassing me.

"Even if this is true, you got Keaton and Paul to join you in this. Their actions are still your fault," I replied, sharply.

He snorted. "Sure, I guess. I don't know how you expect me to fix that, though. They won't just obey me or something. I'm not commanding them. They are doing it of their own accord."

"Okay, I have an idea then." It wouldn't fix everything, but it would at least stop me from getting spammed by random people every hour of the day.

"What?"

"Tell them I got a new phone number."