It wouldn’t be the first time Dylan went out of his way to mess with my head.
Memories of how that douche canoe had humiliated me in front of an entire lecture hall at MIT swam before my eyes.
‘Youactuallythought I wanted you? Hear that, everyone?Murphquakethought I was actually into him!’
He’d called medesperatefor believing he’d actually wanted to go out with me. Which I suppose was true in retrospect.
Iwasdesperate. Desperate for companionship of any kind. I’d never had any friends, let alone aboyfriend.
So when Dylan had started giving me even small scraps of attention, I’d latched onto him, desperately soaking up any tiny drop of affection he’d been willing to give me.
I hadn’t been able to see the red flags. I’d been too wrapped up in the hope that someone seemed to be interested in me for once.
How wrong I had been.
Dylan might not have cared about me the way I’d hoped, but he was certainly cruel and insane enough to organize an elaborate prank like this.
Though, I had to wonder who was the pathetic one if he was still going this far out of his way to torment me, considering I’d graduated from MIT two years ago now.
Pathetic.
Milo:
Screw off, Dylan. If this is you, istg I’ll press charges for harassment.
Unknown:
Dylan is dead. There will be more deaths if you don’t listen. This is not a test you want to fail, Milo. Do as you’re told.
A chill rolled through me, and I froze for a moment before remembering the time Dylan had pretended he’d been in an accident to see if I would come rushing to the hospital to check on him. My cheeks burned at the humiliating memory of me desperately begging the triage nurse to let me back to see him when it had all been part of an elaborate prank to bully me.
My face now hot with anger, I scoffed in irritation.
I was even more sure now that this was Dylan trying to screw with me. He was doing this to get me to text him to see if he was alright. Then he’d just laugh at me and accuse me of still being obsessed with him or something.
Letting out an annoyed huff, I tossed my phone on my bed and barrelled right past the armchair with the outfit my not-so-mysterious stalker wanted me to wear.
Instead, I changed into a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt with the NASA logo on it.
I wasn’t about to let that asshole bully me any more than he already had.
Before my father died and my mother got sick, I was much more of a timid person. The old Milo would have been absolutely losing his mind right now. But… there’s something about surviving trauma that hardens a person. Nothing could be worse than waking up alone in a hospital, only to learn you had been in one of onlytwoN-car accidents in recorded history.
Remembering how confused I’d been, waking up battered and alone, I rubbed the large now-healed scar that ran up the inside of my right forearm. It was still pink and a permanent reminder of the day I’d lost my father.
He’d been with me in the car, and unfortunately, he hadn’t made it.
Having to go and identify my father’s mangled corpse had been one of the most horrifying experiences of my life… so, Dylan and his stupid, creepy stalker games weren’t scaring me like I knew he wanted them to.
They were just making me angry.
I’d been through enough. I didn’t needordeserve to be tormented like this.
Ignoring the burning desire to fire off another angry message to the unknown number, I made my way into my kitchen/living room split and got to work doctoring up my coffee.
Stirring in my coconut milk creamer, I stared pensively at the bouquet of forget-me-nots through the open door to my bedroom.
Melanie strode into my apartment. “Milllooooo,” she sang in greeting, spinning her keys around her perfectly manicured finger. Her enamel chilli-pepper keychain glinted in the early morning light before disappearing into her expensive-looking clutch.
