M o m e n t s

Reads: 424  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
She wanted her cell phone back. He wanted to mess with her head. She had no choice but to resort to desperate measures...

Submitted: February 18, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 18, 2011



M o m e n t s

"Excuse me." I said, with a weak smile. "Umm...that's kind of my cell phone you're holding."

He turned to face me. Brilliant, crystal blue eyes stared back at me. He was one of those few people blessed with incredibly good looks. The kind that made me nervous. The kind I avoided.

"So?" Wait, did he just say what I think he said?

I was baffled for a second. I didn't know what to think. So I wanted it back-obviously? Was he genuinely slow or was he messing with me?

"So I want it back?" I said with uncertainty. I vaguely wondered where this was going.

"Why should I give it back?"

What? Was he serious?

I mean, why wouldn't he give it back? My cell phone was old, outdated, it was a piece of trash that no one would want unless they were too cheap or poor to afford a new one. There were no personal photos, just photos of trees, birds, and my cat. There were no logs of embarrassing personal messages. In other words, there was nohting personal that he could use to blackmail me.

In short, he gained nothing from keeping the device.

Therefore I concluded that his goal was to provoke or get a reaction out of me by using my cell phone as a leverage. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his childishness.

Surely he had better things to do than to bully an innocent little girl??

"Because you're extremely nice?" I tried hopefully, in my angelic, innocent voice. Feeding their egos and putting up an innocent facade usually disarmed them.

He leaned forward, and I instinctively backed away. "Sorry, but I'm not a nice guy " He said with a playful smirk.

Apparently not. Asshole.

"Unless of course, I had the proper incentives to be nice..." His voice was smooth, almost seductive. His mesmerizing azure eyes met mine and I felt myself getting lost in them. I was so mesmerized, I didn't notice that he was leaning closer and closer. Until I could feel his breath against my cheeks. I looked away, snapping out of the trance. I felt ashamed for falling into his trap. He was beautiful, and he knew it.

If I had been an outsider, I would have been impressed, perhaps even charmed by his manipulative nature.

But I was not, I reminded myself, frustrated.

I was the victim.

I mentally scorned myself.

I was reacting exactly the way he wanted me to.

I had to get myself out of this situation, to preserve my sanity.

Think, I told myself.

Okay, so there were two options.

Option one was walking away and cutting my losses. It would surely provoke an amusing reaction from that bastard. A definite victory since he would no longer have any power over me. Plus I wouldn't have to put up with him any longer.

It also felt like taking the easier way out. I was never one for shortcuts, it just wasn't my style. Besides, I had gone too far to go back empty handed.

It wasn't even about the cell phone anymore. It was about having something to prove to myself.

That I could hold my own against bastards like him-and god knows society had a lot of them.

So it came down to option two. Option two was resorting to desperate measures.

I took a deep breath.

Feelings of frustration and stress flowed throught my mind. I let them them take over me. The memories of my first term in a city all by myself. The unbearble loneliness. Feelings of isolation. Depression. Rollercoaster emotions. Before long, the tears began to flow. Droplets formed slowly, one by one. They increased, and multiplied until pools of tears were running down my face. I broke down into sobs and lost myself to the emotions. I wiped the tears, sniffling, as though I was trying to hold them back.

"I'm sorry," I said in between sobs. "I don't have any money. My wallet got stolen and, and..."

I began wailing again.

The trick was to make myself appear as pitiful as possible.

"I'm sorry...I just had a really bad day, I just can't take it anymore...."

"Hey, don't cry." His face softened. There was a panic expression on his face.

He looked as though he wanted to run away, but stayed because he felt responsible. It was incredibly amusing. A feeling of triumph filled me.

The first signs that the plan was working.

Guys were helpless against crying girls. He was no exception.

"It's okay...." He reassured me over and over again. He handed me my cell phone back. Then he reached in his pocket, and took out a handful of fifty dollar bills.

Holy shit. This guy must have been loaded.

"Here's some money..." He handed me the money. "You don't have to give it back."

I was surprised. I didn't think my acting skills were that good. An innate feeling of pride overcame me.

"It's okay." I refused to take the money. That would be crossing the line.

He even drove me home, even though I insisted that I was fine with walking.

Guilt really does wonders to a person.

I almost felt bad. Almost.

"Hey." He said, as we were about to part ways. "I never got your name."

I hesitated for a moment.

Should I give him my real name? Does it matter?

It was unlikely that I would ever see him again. Even if we did, nothing would change.


© Copyright 2020 cam3llia. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: