Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I don’t exactly blend in well, but she doesn’t seem to notice me following her progress as she walks from the parking lot to the large, three-story building on the west side of campus. She’s too busy ignoring the snickers and whistles from other people who either witnessed her fall or heard about it later. She walks quickly, with purpose, but keeps her head down. That’s how I’m able to secretly keep track of her going inside and sitting at one of the computers, where she checks her email while taking quick, hidden bites from a wrapped sandwich in her backpack. I should be on my way to class now, but I can afford to skip one. What I have to do now is more important.
Standing behind one of the bookshelves, I watch her over the top of a row of textbooks. Her blond hair is pulled back in a ponytail, like she was either too busy to do anything more with it or didn’t care.
Not like the other girls around here—most of them look like they just got a fresh blowout. I only know what that is thanks to the addition of the girls into our friend group. That’s the kind of stuff they talk about when we’re all together.
She has this way of scrunching her face a little when she concentrates. Tiny lines pop up between her eyebrows, over the bridge of her nose. The faint glow from the monitor makes her eyes gleam a bright blue while she scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip. I shouldn’t stare, even if she doesn’t know I’m watching. That plump lip—I can’t take my eyes off it. If she put a little effort into the way she dresses and takes care of herself, she would go from pretty to hot.
I have to shake myself out of my trance once she gets up and takes hold of her backpack. Someone at one of the other computers snorts and doesn’t bother hiding it by looking away or anything. No, they’re staring at her, daring her to do or say something. Maybe wishing she would.
Will she react? Will she pretend not to notice? I obviously need to find other ways to entertain myself, because this is way too interesting. I don’t realize until she turns and walks away that I was holding my breath.
Now that she’s gone, pushing her way through one of the glass doors leading outside, I waste no time taking her seat at the terminal she just finished using. Of course, there’s a chance she’s smart and careful and logged out of whatever she was just checking.
Most people aren’t smart and careful, though. They don’t think there’s any need to be.
All it takes is a visit to her browser history to see she logged into her email. And what a surprise: she never logged out. Her entire account is at my fingertips.
Tamson, you’re making it too easy. I’m sort of disappointed in her, even if this works well for me.
It doesn’t take long to reset the passwords to her social media accounts. When the emails come through with the reset link, I use them to give myself access to her profiles, then delete the messages. That’s all it takes. And now it’s time to have a little fun.
First, I change the email address linked to her accounts, using a random junk email that couldn’t be traced to me even if she managed to find it, which she won’t. By the time I’m finished, she won’t have any option but to create new profiles and start fresh.
Now, all I have to do is post Tiana’s memes later on, once I’m at home. I take risks, but I’m not suicidal—this is the kind of shit that could get me in serious trouble, and I’m sure there are security cameras all over the place around here. It would only take Tamson freaking out and asking questions for somebody in security to track the source to this terminal, while I was sitting at it.
Besides, I don’t want anybody walking past and seeing me do this. It’s not like I’m proud of myself. I’m proud of the reaction it’s going to get, and I’m definitely going above and beyond anything Dad would have imagined. But I’m not trying to get my ass hauled to the police station over some cyberbullying.
When I’m finished, I log out of everything the way Tamson should’ve done and get up slowly with a new plan forming in my mind. I think I just came up with another way to fuck with her.
And if it goes well, I’ll be lucky enough to watch her realize she was set up.
I can’t remember the last time I was this eager to get home and lock myself in my room. Probably when I was a kid, and there was a new video game to play. I would make a whole bag of pizza rolls and spend the night eating them while zoning out. It was my escape.