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I walked up to the place where the item fell and saw that it was her phone. I looked down at it, then up at her retreating back on the other side of the glass doors. With a wicked smile, I pushed the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I’d return it later.
Maybe.
I went back to putting books away, more relaxed now, as I walked through the quiet aisles. It bothered me that I was still a virgin, I must admit. I didn’t have a religious upbringing; Mom was too busy with working to feed us to worry about my eternal soul. My father passed away when I was three, from a heart attack. He’d only been 28, but fate snatched him away from us. My grandparents all lived in California, where my parents were from, and rarely came to North Carolina to see us. They weren’t really a part of my life.
Mom had done the best she could with Dad’s life insurance and her work. That meant I’d been on my own a lot of the time, alone with my dated laptop and the neighbor’s Wi-Fi signal. I’d grown up in the age of technology and sex was everywhere. I wanted it too, but I just couldn’t seem to get it.
That had been Amanda’s fee for my help. She was supposed to help me find a guy to hook up with. She’d passed her class, and now it was time to pay. Instead, she’d put her blog back up and went back to her snide ways. I’d put a lot of time into helping her with that class and what did I get for it? Snarky comments about watching her have sex and a reminder that she’d posted a new blog about me.
“Nikki Can’t Get Fucked, Not Even with My Help!”
That had been the title of the blog post. I’d seen it when she published it. I’d often wanted to comment, to tell her what a bitch she was, to tell people who she really was under the makeup and the bleached hair. I’d held my tongue, well, fingers, instead. I knew the day would come when payback would fall into my lap. I didn’t know how that would happen, but it would.
I moved to put a book back on the shelf and felt the weight of her phone in my back pocket. I’d seen her put the code in more than once and knew it. I looked around, even though I knew the place was empty and pulled the phone out to look at the screen. It was a new phone, but maybe she’d left the code the same? I punched in the numbers and smiled when the screen changed.
I had it open.
I scrolled through her messages, her WhatsApp, and a few other apps before I put the phone away. I’d seen she had far more than Gerard’s picture on the phone and rolled my eyes. Was the woman suffering from some kind of mental illness or was she just that lonely? How could she go through so many men like that? Not that I was judging her or a prude, but even I knew she sometimes slept with five to six different men a day.
I kept finding myself looking at the bag. What did I do? Give her the phone back and tell her she’d dropped it, or use the gift that had been given to me?
Fate had finally decided to drop a tool for revenge into my lap. Or the floor as it happened. I now had countless ways to make Amanda pay. I wouldn’t do anything illegal, like text the hundreds of naked pictures she’d taken of herself out to all of her contacts, or the world, but there were other things I could do. Things I could hold over her head.
Even if she had the phone’s service turned off, I still had proof of so many things that she had done. I had proof of the professors she’d slept with, of the fact that she’d taken pictures of me and doctored them to use on her website. I had it all now, and I could finally take her down. If I wanted to.
Was this petty? Was wanting revenge on someone that had terrorized you for four years really wrong? Sure, I could show proof of what she’d done, but what would it get me in the end? Would I feel better?
I had to think fast though if I wanted to use her chat history and the services she used to get my revenge. She’d notice the phone was gone quickly and would likely have the service turned off before too long. I finished up my duties for the day quickly and clocked out for the night. I had to figure out what to do, so I headed straight back to my dorm where I’d have time to think. I’d have time to come up with a plan on my own, without anyone there to change my mind or urge me to do something really bad.
