I stormed back to my house in fury. Where had he gotten my phone number? I was about to tell him something so personal, but the newspapers told me more about him than he did. He didn't even have the decency to ask me my phone number himself. Maybe he took my phone and found it. Maybe he tried to find it online...but I don't think you can. Maybe he just kept guessin-
And that's when I realized it was time to stop trying to fool myself. I have no idea where he got my number. There's only one other person that I know of that has it, and that's Katrina. And I know I can trust her. I showered, changed, and saton the couch in front of my television finger combing through my hair. I had finished my Harry Potter marathon and moved on to rewatching the first season of 'Bones'. I grabbed some food and just sat there, watching tv and eatingf doritos. I wish I could trust him, but I don't know why I should. I wish he could be honest with me, but I don't know why I even care. I wish he wasn't so attractive, but I don't understand the reason I let him pull me in. It's as if I'm trapped in this whirlwind-logic tells me to never talk to him again, but there's something that forces me to face the question-is it possible for me to just forget about what's happened?