Page 2 of Keeper
This wasn’t funny. At all.
It was weird and scary.
I tapped out another reply, even if I knew I probably should’ve ignored him instead. “Leave me alone, creep.”
“Whatever slut. Don’t lie I know u love it. Sluts like u love to suck cock. Don’t u?”
“Ooookay then. I’m blocking this number. Bye!”
A few finger-taps later, the mystery number was blocked, and I let out a sigh of relief.
That’s that,I thought, wiping my palms on the thighs of my jeans.
But I hadn’t even finished celebrating before I received another text message from yet another strange number.
“Yo what’s up ya whore”
“Whoever you are, please STOP. It’s not funny. You’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared, Ainsley. Everyone knows what you did. Your life’s ruined hahahaha”
This was starting to feel like a bad horror movie. But just like when I watched a bad horror movie, my heart pounded fearfully in my chest anyway.
“What are you talking about?” I replied.
A few seconds later, the troll replied with a link to a website. No description of what it was or what it contained. Against my better judgment, I clicked it.
Oh no.
I swiped my finger and the web page scrolled down seemingly forever, an unrelenting barrage of compromising material. I’d seen enough. I closed the window just as fast as I’d opened it.
My heart sank like a stone, splashing into the roiling acid of my nauseous stomach.
What do I do?
What do I do now?
My vision tunneled. I heard the liquid gush of blood rushing into my head, my temples throbbing.
Creepy text messages, all from unknown numbers and foreign area codes, continued to flood my phone. I turned the damned thing off and buried it at the bottom of my backpack.
I felt sick. I couldn’t go to my last class of the day—not withthisout there. I had to deal with this, didn’t I? Buthow?
It’s just a weird internet thing,I reassured myself.Nobody here knows. Just act normal and go to class. You can figure out how to deal with this when you get out. You’ve got all of Spring break to fix this.
Hands trembling, I packed up my things and began my trek across campus.
My legs felt like jelly as I climbed the stairs of the art building.
Outside the door of my classroom, I took a moment to catch my breath and collect myself.
Calm down. No one knows.
I pushed the door open and walked in as if this were any other day. But my resolve died the moment I saw a group of boys, sitting in the very back of the room, huddled around a cell phone. They looked up at me, amusement in their eyes. One of them snickered. The way they looked at me had changed—they saw me differently. Like my humanity was gone and I was now nothing but an object.
The girls, however—the girls I used to sit with and consider myfriends—couldn’t even stand to look at me. I could see it in their faces. I’d done something unforgivable. I was a stupid, vile slut—and worse, what I’d done reflected poorly onthem. I’d brought the sisterhood down with my actions. HowdareI be so stupid?
I was an outsider. Now and forever.
