Just My Type

2- PeniPie

Every time I opened my phone, I found myself glancing at Adam's contact, contemplating whether or not I should unblock his number. I had been at this for the past few days. At this point it was getting in the way of my school work. I took a deep breath, pressed the "unblock" button, and shoved my phone into my pocket.

I had been sitting with my laptop on my legs and books strewn all over my bed for at least an hour. My glasses hung loosely off my nose, and my earbuds were working hard to block out the commotion in Kendra's room. My research paper was not writing itself, no matter how much I wished it would. Certain distractions were getting the best of me, and I couldn't focus on anything.

Just as I started to type again, I felt my phone buzz. Without thinking I snatched it out of my pocket. The screen read:
Clifton:
Hey, it's Adam. Don't know if you still have my number or not. You busy?

I looked quickly between the text and lap top. Should I text back? Should I ignore him? I didn't have enough time to answer my own thoughts Before another text came in:
Clifton:
It's fine if you don't want to talk. It was just nice to see you and I thought we could catch up.

I sat with my mouth agape, staring at the texts.  I got that we were in college now and everything, but how could someone change so much in only a few months? Okay... a lot of months. I decided to go with the safest response possible: "Idk, I'm kind of busy this week." I deliberated the response for a moment before sending it.

Adam Clifton was supposed to be something I left in high school. He was supposed to be nothing but a memory at this point, but instead, he was making himself more and more evident in my life. With every stupid grin and sweet text, he inched his way back in. I hated him for it. I hated the manipulation he put me through and I would not fall for it.

For a while after our first encounter, I seriously thought about contacting him and asking if his roommate position had been filled yet. Now, I decided to stand strong in my filthy, tiny, smoky, loud environment. And thinking about it, honestly how much better would it be living with Adam Clifton? I bet he had someone new over every night. The thought made me gag.

Deep in thought, I typed away meaningless sentence after sentence, trying to keep my mind away from the text that was just sent back to me. Don't pick up that phone Peni. Make him wait. Don't let him think you care about what he has to say. Even with all of the powerful, feminist voices in my head, I picked up my phone once more:
Clifton:
You can't avoid me Penelope. Really, we need to talk. When can I see you again?

I puffed loudly. What a pain. I almost screamed out of frustration. I needed a clear head and with the constant reminder of Adam Clifton's existence, that clear head was like a distant dream that could never be reached. I was starting to think that allowing him to contact me was not the best decision. Yet, I didn't ever think to block him back.

I tapped away at my phone, typing and re-typing a few times before formulating what I thought was the best way to answer:
"I have a few minutes today before work. But only a few minutes around five."

THAT WAS YOUR BEST ANSWER?! FALLING INTO HIS TRAP? I panicked, trying to undo what I had done so stupidly. It was no use, the text was already sent. Might as well sign my life away. In reality I had most of the day to myself to do nothing but homework. All of my classes were early that morning. I suppose the lying about how long I was free made me feel better about the fact that I was going against everything I made myself believe.

I shoved my face into a pillow and screamed, knowing there was no way it would disturb my roommate. She was busy. How did everything end up like this? How did I end up in a place I hate miles away from my best friends? Most of all, why did I have to see Adam Clifton again? I knew he had been accepted into the same school that I was but I just knew I would never have to see him. What was the point in all of this agony?