Back in my apartment, I dropped my

Back in my apartment, I dropped my bag on the couch and collapsed next to it. Go out on a date with Cameron? Was he insane? He had to be joking or just flirting. On the ride home, he hadn’t mentioned it again, instead he spent the time drilling me about my schedule. Question by question, he dragged out every detail about the classes I was taking. By the time we’d got back to the building, I was exhausted.
Leaning my head back against the cushion, I closed my eyes. My heart was beating pretty fast for just sitting down. Was he being serious about not hooking up with Stephanie on Wednesday? Seemed odd to me that he hadn’t if she really had been all over him. 
Honestly, it didn’t matter. 
I couldn’t do a relationship of any sorts. Maybe one day. Hopefully one day, because I didn’t want to be like this for the rest of my life. Eventually I wanted to be the girl who got excited about being asked out on a date instead of the girl who came home and did this.
Opening my eyes, I groaned. “I’m Señor Fucktard. Or Señorita Fucktard.”
I pushed to my feet and started halfway to the bedroom before I remembered my vibrating bag. “Shit.”
Hurrying back to the couch, I reached into the side pocket and pulled out my cell. I tapped the screen, fully expecting to see a text from Jacob or Brittany pop up. Instead I saw a missed call and voicemail. 
“What the hell?” 
I ran my fingers along the side and figured out I’d knocked the damn thing to silent. Sliding my figure along the screen, I unlocked it and saw that the call was from an UNKNOWN CALLER.
My heart skipped a beat.
No big deal. Probably a wrong call or a telemarketer. I went to the voicemail page and my finger hovered over the delete button. The past raised its ugly, bitter head. How many times did I get a prank call from people blocking their number? Too many to count, but that couldn’t be it. My number was new, like my email….
I cursed again. 
 Taking a deep breath, I hit the message and raised it to my ear. There was a pause and then a gravelly, indistinguishable voice crackled through the phone. “You know what happens to liars and skanks? They get a big, fat—”
Crying out, I hit the delete button before I could hear anything more. I dropped the phone on the couch instead of tossing it against the wall and backed up like it was some kind of venomous creatures perched on the cushions. 
Any method of communication could become poisonous. Didn’t I already know that firsthand? A strangled laugh escaped me. Really, did they have nothing better to do? It had been five years. Five years! They couldn’t let go of the past. Just like deep down, neither could I.