It’s closing time and Vikki and I are busy cleaning, so we can get home. My phone beeps with an incoming text and I look down at it and growl. “You can’t be serious.” Staring back at me isn’t a text from Jake, but from Anonymous. Even though I deleted and blocked the number ninety days ago, I still recognize it.
Vikki moves closer, her eyes wide. “What’s going on?”
Brows furrowed, she sits back. “What does that mean?” I turn my phone upside down, so she can see that the number spells out my name. Her eyes widen. “Wow, that’s cool you can type your name with numbers.”
“But not so cool when I don’t know who the person is,” I counter. “About three months ago, I got texts from this exact same person. Whoever it is likes to play games. I’m sick of it and I want them to leave me alone.” Taking a deep breath, I type out a reply.
Anonymous: Why all the yelling?
I roll my eyes. This is just ridiculous.
Me: I like using all caps.
Anonymous: Don’t stop on my account. So, what have you been up to? Been a while since we talked.
Me: Yeah, it’s because I blocked the number.
Me: BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!!!!!!!
“What is he saying?” Vikki asks. I show her the texts and her eyes widen. “So, you haven’t talked to him since you blocked the number?”
I think back to when I blocked it and if my calculations are correct, the ninety days was up yesterday. “No, but he has perfect timing. My ninety days ran up yesterday. I might need to run to the cell store and see if they can block it permanently.”
My phone beeps again and a sharp pain settles in my gut. I just want whoever it is to leave me alone.
Anonymous: That hurts. You’ve always been friendly toward me.
Me: Obviously not friendly enough, if you can’t tell me who you are. It’s weird and it makes me uncomfortable. You need to leave me the hell alone. Don’t text, call, or try to contact me in any way. I’m happily married, and I want it to stay that way. GOODBYE!
Heart racing, I log into my cell phone account and before I can block the number, another text comes through.
Anonymous: Sorry 31773 but that’s not going to happen.
The blood in my veins runs cold. Hands shaking, I block his number and my phone drops onto the table. Vikki picks it up and reads the final text, her face growing pale.
“I don’t think this person’s going away.”