For a second, the world around me halts. And everything goes still, silent. My pulse quickens, my heart drumming loudly, almost painfully so.
It wouldn't take a genius to know who texted me, but I cannot let Brandon get to me like this. And maybe that message didn't even mean anything, he probably just wanted to scare me like the psycho he is.
But I still stare at the words on my screen again and again, until they sear into my brain.
'I knew you were at the diner today.'
He couldn't have possibly seen me. I made sure of it when we were leaving.
Unless he saw the pictures I posted on my socials. If he did see those fake couple photos, this is how he decided to react? By sending me a creepy message?
But the fact of the matter is, I am not scared of the actual message.
I'm scared of the fact that Brandon has my number, like my personal number, it wasn't even on that social media website.
And if he has my number, what else does he know about me?
"Ash?" A voice echoes around me. I don't pay heed to it.
This 'date' did not go according to plan, it just made things worse. I mean- what was I even trying to prove to Aiden, or to anyone, for that matter?
"Ashley."
It takes me a moment to register that the echo was actually Aiden calling my name. I tear my eyes away from that horrible message.
"Everything alright?" He is looking at me, his head tilted, as if he's either confused or amused by my dilemma. He doesn't even know what the dilemma is. I wonder how he'll react if I tell him. I try to keep my face impassive, without emotion.
Aiden doesn't need to know about this. He already has done too much for me in the span of a week, I do not think he would be up for any more shit like this.
"I'm alright." I lie, "Just recieved a really freaky text from Lyn."
He looks at me. "Did you though?"
I try to keep my expressions neutral, but I guess he notices the quiver in my voice. I really can't hide my emotions from anyone, huh. I don't want to tell Aiden that I can't even keep a creepy guy away from me, but I have to tell someone, or I might actually burst into tears. Unfortunately (or otherwise) that someone just so happens to be him.
"No," I start, finding it physically impossible to form coherent words. "I didn't get a text from Lyn. I think... Brandon saw us, Aiden."
He scrunches his brows, shaking his head.
"I'm pretty sure he didn't, I was covering you remember?" I do. And I thought so too. But how wrong I was. So. Fucking. Wrong.
I slowly face the phone towards him, and he leans in closer. Disbelief spreads over him as his eyes glide over that eight worded filth.
"What the fuck?" He spits out, "Call the fucking cops on him, Ashlyn, I don't care if he's the fucking president, this is stalker behaviour."
I try to speak, to tell him that calling the police will only complicate things further, but the words never escape. Instead, I get up to leave. Aiden's eyes never leave mine as he mimics my actions, and gets up too.
"I really should get going. It's late." Understatement of the year.
"No, wait-" He halts though, as if realising he said something he shouldn't have. "What I mean is, can't you do anything else to get the creep out of your hair so that we can atleast stop pretending to date?"
Oh.
So that's all this is to him, isn't it? Just a pretend game. I should've realized this sooner, realized that talking to Aiden was like talking to a self obsessed maniac. Someone who only thinks about himself, just like right now, when he pretended to care but then he just wanted to stop 'dating' me. I should be happy that Aiden is just how I thought he was, but that text combined with whatever Aiden said is messing with my mind.
"I can't believe this." I finally say, the coldness in the air seeping through my voice. "I'll be out of your hair now."
Something resembling hurt clouds his eyes, but then it vanishes because of course it does. My words could never have an effect on him, much less hurt him.
Because that's just how we are.
A match made in hell.
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