INVESTIGATOR: I’d like to have you explain in your own words, if you don’t mind. Let me remind you that this interview is being recorded.
HART: Well, I freaked because I thought he was a girl. I had a mental picture of the person I was talking to, and it was definitely not a…not a “him.” I felt like he misled me. Like he’d been flirting with me all that time, and I didn’t even realize. It was very unsettling.
INVESTIGATOR: But you resumed communication with him a few days later? On the night of September 20?
HART: I know. I should’ve followed my instincts.
INVESTIGATOR: Tessa, what led you to resume communication?
HART: Um, stupidity? Is that not a good enough reason?
INVESTIGATOR: Were you aware that he’d been tweeting at you? We have record of a number of public tweets originating from the account @EricThornSucks, dated from September 16 to September 20. There were a total of thirteen tweets by my count, all tagging the username @TessaHeartsEric. Does that sound about right, Tessa?
HART: I don’t know. He was blocked.
INVESTIGATOR: You had him blocked over that entire period?
HART: Yes.
INVESTIGATOR: And yet on September 20 at approximately 11:31 p.m., you replied to one of his tweets?
HART: I can’t believe I did that.
INVESTIGATOR: Tessa, can you confirm for me that you tweeted on September 20 at 11:31 p.m., and I quote: “@EricThornSucks thanks for ruining my life.”
HART: I never should’ve unblocked him.
INVESTIGATOR: Can you confirm it for the record, Tessa?
HART: What? Yes. I tweeted that.
INVESTIGATOR: And what exactly did you mean?
HART: That’s hilarious actually, come to think of it: “Thanks for ruining my life.”
INVESTIGATOR: Tessa? You mean you were joking when you said that?
HART: No, I wasn’t joking. I just mean I didn’t even know the half of it. I had no idea how true that would turn out to be.
14
TRIGGER
A clammy hand clapped her on the shoulder, and Tessa turned her head. The room was hot, the air heavy with the sweat of undulating bodies pressing in on her from all sides. She twisted around, scanning for any sign of her friends. She must have lost them in the crowd.
“Hey, what’s your name? I’m—”
“Sorry, what? It’s really loud in here!”
She spun around again, searching for the nearest door. Fingers grazed against the bare skin of her arm. They left a trail of goose bumps, despite the heat.
She shrugged her shoulder to shake the hand away, and she went up on her tiptoes, searching. There! She saw the neon red of the Exit sign. A group of familiar faces stood beneath. Tessa held her arms in front of her chest as she pushed her way through the crowd. She didn’t stop to look for the source of the unseen voice that called after her.
“Wait! Are you here for the program? You’re creative writing, right? I’m—”
? ? ?
Tessa jolted awake. She blinked rapidly to chase away the half-remembered fragments of her dream. In an instant, she felt the familiar choke hold of anxiety squeezing around her neck. She reached toward her bedside table. She needed to swallow two of the little pills before the full-blown panic attack overtook her.
Her fingers closed around the pill bottle, but she froze with her arm suspended in midair. Some instinct had alerted her to another person’s presence in the room.
She darted a glance in the direction of the doorway and saw the shadow of a human form. Male or female? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t dare turn to look. Instead, she let her arm drop lifelessly beside her, praying it would look like she had reached out in her sleep.
“Get up,” a voice commanded. “I know you’re awake.”
The crushing panic evaporated then. Gone. Or not exactly gone, but replaced by something even stronger: searing anger.
It was him, she realized. Here, in her room. Watching her sleep. How many times did she have to tell him? Tessa sat up with a jerk and turned to face her boyfriend. “What are you doing here, Scott?”
He glared back at her from the foot of the bed. “Nice to see you too.”
“You asshole! You just scared the crap out of me! Do you understand that? Do you see these pills?” She waved the bottle of anxiety meds in his direction. “I’m not kidding around. I have a phobia. A diagnosed medical condition. You can’t just come into my room. It’s not OK!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he shot back. “I forgot. You don’t like waking up and realizing someone’s creeping around behind your back. Is that it?”
“Yes!”
“That’s interesting, Tess. I know the feeling.”
It was only then that she noticed what he was holding in his hand. Her cell phone. He held it up and turned the screen around for her to see. She recognized the photo she’d chosen for her lock screen: Eric Thorn, making out with himself in a mirror.
“Classy, Tessa.”
Had Scott been looking at her phone? Her camera roll? How much had he seen?
“Give it to me.” She reached out to grab it from his hands, but he backpedaled.
“No, I think I might hang on to this a little longer.”
“You have no right!”
“What? To snoop around your cell phone? You’re right. I probably don’t. But then again, I didn’t actually expect to find anything.”
He stood rigid as a statue, but the silent venom in his stare made Tessa shrink away. She inched backward toward the far corner of her bed. “Scott, it’s nothing. It’s a celebrity crush. Lots of people have them.”
“You think I care about this loser?” He swiped to clear the picture from her screen. “Honestly, if you think I’m pissed because you like to diddle yourself to Zac Efron here—”
“That’s not… That’s Eric Thorn!”
“Wow, Tessa. Way to miss the point.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Here, you want your precious phone back?” He hurled it in her direction, not quite close enough to hit her, but with enough force to make her flinch. It smacked against the wall behind her head, and she scampered off the bed to pick it up.
“Did you break it? I need that!”
“Yeah, I know exactly what you need it for.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Little miss innocent over here. Won’t go past third base after two whole years of dating.”
She didn’t answer, too concerned with checking if her screen had cracked.
“I saw everything, Tessa.”
“What are you talking about?” She looked up at him, bewildered. “My camera roll? My iTunes?”
Scott shook his head, his lip curling in an ugly smirk. His face had turned beet red. She expected him to yell, but his voice came out in a rumble, low and menacing. “I can’t believe I’m killing myself playing the dutiful boyfriend over here, and the whole time you’re on Twitter, sexting it up with some dickhole—”
“Sexting?”
“Don’t play ignorant with me. I read your message thread. I heard that selfie you tweeted was pretty smokin’ hot.”
Tessa took a hasty step in his direction, holding out her hands. “Scott, that wasn’t… Did you even look at the picture?”
“Do I need to?”
“Scott, it was a joke. And anyway, I blocked him. I didn’t even realize Taylor was a guy!”