Most People Say Thank You, But I Would Die for You

Chapter 3

Wednesday stared at her phone.  Ever since she got home, she claimed she was tired and went to her room to avoid her family.  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see them, it was more like she didn't want them distracting her.  Typically, she could roll with the punches without being dazed.  Being stabbed and shot with an arrow was merely a nuisance, but it would take far more to stop her.  However, finding out her boyfriend, the first guy she kissed, was a psychopathic killer, accusing an innocent classmate of being the Hyde, and a stalker sending her texts on a phone she had merely received hours prior was definitely a lot to handle.  Even for her.

On a better note, technology wasn’t so hard to figure out, so she shot Xavier a test text.  He almost instantly responded, but it had to be a question.  Deciding that he was smart enough to figure out what she meant, she let it be.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole technology thing yet.

On one hand, she vowed to never use it.  On the other hand, she never exactly needed one.  She’d rather stab her eyes with needles than admit that she missed Enid, Eugene, and-surprisingly-Xavier and Bianca.  Letters were sufficient enough to keep in touch, but she was a little on edge.  What if there was an emergency?  Needless to say, she decided to at least know how to use the device properly just in case.

She fell back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.  Due to her injuries, she wasn’t technically supposed to do much in case she accidentally reopened her wounds.  Was she going to listen?  Probably not, but she didn’t feel like doing anything strenuous at the moment.  A stalker was more interesting anyways.

The stabbing animation was very unsettling, but she honestly felt like it was a stupid death threat.  What bothered her was the pictures.  There was one of her and Tyler, which was low in itself.  However, the one with her and Xavier had been taken merely minutes before it had been sent.  She had been in view of someone that didn’t just want her dead, but also knew the people she kept close.  Or the ones that stayed close and she failed to keep her distance.  The stalker had leverage and that was the problem.

A part of her wanted to text the stalker and demand to know who they were, but she refused to give them anything that could lead to their satisfaction.  Plus, if she didn’t answer, the stalker would never know if they actually had the right number.  But they were probably certain already anyway.

Wednesday let out a low groan, expressing her annoyance. On the flip side, at least she still had a mystery to solve over the break.  Now she couldn’t be bored.  The first step was to find out what the first step should be.  How was she supposed to start to track down the stalker?  Was it possible to track down a number?

She sat up as soon as the thought occurred.  Maybe technology could be useful.  Lucky she had a persistent friend who gave her phone number to her despite knowing Wednesday had no intention of getting a phone.

Grabbing the piece of paper, she scanned the number written in pink ink.  Typing in Enid’s number, she sent her text.

Wednesday: Is it possible to track down numbers?

She stared at the screen as she waited for a reply.  There were dots at the bottom for a few minutes before she finally got the reply.

Enid: I’m sorry, who is this?  Did you type the wrong number?

Right.  Enid didn’t know about her phone.  She probably should have clarified her identity from the beginning.

Wednesday: This is Wednesday.

Another moment before Enid returned the text.

Enid: Ha, funny prank.  My girl doesn’t do technology.