Anna
When I was fifteen, I was followed by three guys within the span of maybe ten minutes. This old man was leaning against a fence surrounding a local business and greeted me as I walked by. A block and a half later, he’s suddenly next to me again standing by the crosswalk, asking if I was “working”. The walk sign turned on and I ran and didn’t stop until I reached my light rail stop. When I got to the stop, I caught my breath and assessed my outfit. I was covered from the collar bone down, excluding only my hands. I started texting a friend about what just happened, but a pair of boys seemingly around my age came to the stop and started looking at me. One of the boys came to explain that he was trying to get his friend to have confidence in asking girls out, and it’d be really nice if I would give him my phone number. I told him I had a boyfriend (which was true and it was him I was on my way to see) because I knew he’d be more likely to accept that than just no. He asked for a fake number, then, just to boost his friends ego. I knew it was wrong, would have the opposite effect and teach all the wrong lessons, but I just wanted them to leave. With the fake number, the boys walked off, and I never heard the one who was supposedly asking me out even speak. I finally messaged my friend. He responded that I should have given the number for the rejection hotline because he thought that would have been hilarious. I never told my boyfriend what happened.