Not a Valentine

Chapter 24

This cannot be real.

I had been stressed about this on Friday, and I hadn't thought that it would happen today. Why today of all days? Why, when I had just spent close to three hours in self-wallow?

Who did this, and why couldn't I make sense of it?

I pressed the reload button a few times, willing the mean Valentine's to leave; it had to be a prank. There was no way close to a hundred Valentine's were being sent publicly. All of them are mean, rude, and full of snark. I didn't know what to do or how to feel.

Who had written this, and why had they decided to leave it on the page today? And why was it messing up my website? It kept popping up, no matter how much I tried to skip through it. It was hard to maneuver through the page, and it was hard to delete them as well.

These were sent so everyone could see Valentine's. Who were they sent to?

I finally get to stop the Valentine's from moving so fast and press on a card. My heart pings in a hurtful way as I read the message. It was the same girl who had been attempting to get bullied on Thursday. I couldn't believe they were still sending Telegraphs to her, even though I would delete them.

And so many.

I knew that they probably thought that the more they sent, the harder it would be for me to decline them. The more they sent, the more tempted I would be to accept the money.

I couldn't care less about the money, though. How could I? The money I would expect would be dirty and wrong. I wouldn't fall for that. I wasn't that desperate to go on a freaking trip with the same people who were requesting to bully a girl.

No, I wouldn't do it. It wasn't worth it. It would never make me feel good about it in the long run. It would never make me feel like I had deserved it.

I spend an hour trying to delete all the comments, chewing on my nails as I do so. I was overwhelmed with all that was bothering me. This was what the girl in the library was trying to tell me about; this is what Quincy told me to deal with myself. I hadn't been listening to any of them; I had only been able to listen to the words Quincy said about my character.

The telegraphs keep coming through, no matter how many I delete. Who did this? Who spent so much of their time sending a telegram with rude comments on it? It must've taken hours. For the last bit of them that I take care of for the night, I read the names of the people. But all of them are anonymous.

Anonymous.

Was it anonymous?

My Ranger?

No, it couldn't be. He couldn't waste all his time sending out hurtful telegraphs for no reason. He doesn't have anything to gain from this. He had his own life problems to deal with, and none of this could help him. Hell, wasting money isn't even on his agenda. He wouldn't spend his time doing this.

Even so, I have to check.

I go into my messages with him on my phone, my eyes frantic as I look at our texts and his beautiful words, and then I press onto his profile. I hold up his email on my computer, and I cross-reference the photos. My eyes are searching, and my mind is whirring, as if it were not true.

I let out a breath of relief once I found that the emails were different. They don't have the same spelling, and there are new numbers added to the person wanting to send the telegrams.

I take my eyes off the damned laptop and go to my phone instead. I slide into my messages with Ranger and send him a chat.

Thank you for not being the reason for my breaking point tonight, Ranger.