I was busy, trying to catch up on history, or back into even thinking about it. So, I didn’t even look up until Brandy came up behind me.
“Hey,” she pointed over my shoulder, “You know that guy over there?”
He was grabbing his stuff, to run off. “No, he’s cute?”
“Yeah. Well, I just thought you should know he was taking pictures of you.” She hopped down, and straightened her bookbag, on her back. I guess that was his phone he was sticking in his pocket.
“You don’t think he’s going to…” I just shook my head, and closed my notes, in my textbook.
“If you go after him to find out,” she patted my shoulder, “I’ve got your back.”
“Why me, though?” I tucked my hair back behind my ear. “I wasn’t showing too much skin, was I?” I looked back at the low wall I was sitting on. “I didn’t do anything special with my hair.” I wasn’t even wearing any make-up.
“Who knows. Not that I noticed, but nobody really knows what makes creeps stalk you. Maybe you smiled once, and he thought you’re smiling at him, but you did look kinda intense, back there.”
“I was just trying to remember History, again.” I shook my head, “How was practice?”
“Oh, you know. Same old same…”
“There he is!” When we rounded the corner, I held her back, giggling. Only this time, it was his turn not to look up from his notebook. Instead, he held up his phone, then went back to the sketchook? “You think he’s drawing me?” I felt my hair, an tucked it back behind my ear again. To keep it out of my eyes, then I pulled the hair tie off my wrist.
“I don’t know, but he doesn’t go to this school. If he did, I would have seen him before, but I’m gonna go find out.”
I found a table, and sat down, but she took the long way around. I really should get my notes back out, but history is boring, and this was a whole lot more interesting. Then, she snuck up, and looked over his shoulder. She held a thumbs up, smiling at me, but I had no idea what that ment.
;
“Art” (fM…f)
There’s something about the way her hair fell across her face. It didn’t cover her eyes, but looking down, her lids were low, and her eyelashes curled up slightly in front of them. I just couldn’t get it quite right.
“Hey,” some girl came around me, and pulled out a chair. “You like looking at my girlfriend?”
She sat down, and I closed my pencil on my notebook. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” In a cheer-leader uniform.
“Well, you had to know that she was somebody’s girlfriend,” She turned to look over her shoulder, and there she was. Sitting across the tables outside the lunchroom, smiling with her hair up in a ponytail. “Looking that good. You should have asked her permission, before you took her picture.”
I tore my eyes away, and picked up my phone. “I’m sorry, but I was afraid that if she looked up, it would spoil the light.” I showed her, “It’s a study in shadow, the way her bangs left lines across her eyes, and the bridge of her nose. I just wanted to capture the moment.”
She turned my sketch pad around on the table. “Hm.” Held it up, “Still, it’s kinda creepy, hanging around the high school, and taking pictures of freshmen. I thought you graduated last year?”
“I just came back to drop off my portfolio for Mr. Halifax, the art teacher?”
“Oh, so now he’s teaching college guys in high school.”
“No, well I haven’t started college yet.”
“Well, he certainly didn’t tell you it was all right to take pictures of the students, without her permission.” She dropped the sketch pad, and grabbed my phone.
“Where you going?” I started getting up.
“Well, it’s not my face, so I’ll have to ask her for you.” She waved my phone, “Wait here.” I sat back down, but she held it down in front of her, so I couldn’t see what she was doing, walking back.
Then, she showed her friend, her girlfriend, she said. How was I supposed to know, they don’t look like lesbians, but that’s no excuse. If it hadn’t been her, it would probably be a jealous boyfriend, and he’d want to beat me up, instead of just take my phone to show her, and ask permission.
I just wasn’t thinking, stupid. Of course it didn’t look good, but I wasn’t hanging out, creeping on the underclassmen. I was just cutting through the plaza, and I saw her. It looked like a challenge, honestly that’s all it was, but I should have just left.
Finally, they just left my phone on the table, and left. Laughing, and looking back, then saying something cruel, and laughing again. It was humiliating, but I guess I deserved it. They left the photo on the screen, but now I wasn’t sure. Maybe that’s a yes, you can try to draw the bleached highlights, catching the sunlight reflected off the window behind her, and the way that the shadow lines are even darker, streaked across her face.
Then, I got to my car, and my phone buzzed. One of them must have gotten my number, or sent the photo to her phone, but she sent another one back. I froze, looking around, but it was the back of my car, with the license plate, centered in the image.
[You like lesbians, Artie?] My name isn’t Art, Arthur, or anything like that, but that’s what she called me.
[Not particularly.] I sent back, [I don’t have a problem with your relationship either, but look.]
While I was typing my excuse, she took a picture of her girlfriend. Bent over, with her top pulled open, her bra straps hooked in her fingers, and the cups pressed together with her wrists.
[U like 2 watch?]
[Look, I don’t know what kinds of games you want to play here, but.] From behind, there was only so many cars they could hide between, to get that picture of the back of my car.
[But you don’t mind if she shows a little more?] This time, she pulled away one side, pushing a nipple out of the top of a cup, with a little lacy pink trim.
[Sure.] The threat of taking a picture of my license plate, said at least a thousand words, but come on. No, please don’t send me nude photos to draw. I barely got the top of her head, and her hair, but there’s no reason why I have to draw her clothed, to finish the picture.
[Good, now go home. We’ll sext U L8r.]
;
Hildebrand (ff Girl Talk/Stalk)
I followed him, but she just wanted to go home. “Okay, that was fun, but I really have to get caught up on history.”
“Seriously? You really want to go home, and do homework now?”
“No, but I have to, if I want to take an elective next year, like driver’s ed?” She laughed to herself, “Haven’t you heard, if you don’t learn history, you’re doomed to repeat it?”
I shook my head, “Who said that, anyways?”
“I don’t know, that’s the point. Uhm, somewhere around the Spanish Civil War, or the rise of Fascism, I forgot.”
“Well, you know I don’t mind driving you around,” I’m not in any hurry to timeshare the car with her too, but maybe I can get my own, we’re talking at least a year before she gets her license. “But let me just see where he lives, and I’ll help you study, deal?”
“Why do you want to know where he lives? You already have his car, you could just call the cops, and report him.” True, and with that nipple photo on his phone, they even have the evidence to put him away, but I’m not done with him yet, I barely even got started!
“Yeah, but this is fun. I feel like Veronica Mars.” I’m actually starting to understand what it must be like, for boys following girls. Stalking them, and just as soon as I drop her off. I guess I have time to think about how I want to fuck with his head.
It’s been a while, I guess middle school, was the last time I was big, and tall enough. Hildabeast, they used to call me, for bullying the shrimpy boys, but they had it coming. Okay, sometimes they called me Helga, after that chick from that Hey Arnold! Show.
This was different, though. He didn’t just look at my little sister, and take a picture. I guess it’ll last longer, but he’s actually pretty talented. Middle school boys, though. All you had to do was show a little titty, or stand up, with them showing through your top. Especially with it pulled tight, by the backpackstraps, or the seat belt.
Izzy’s coming along nicely too. It’s about time she started getting attention from boys, but she’s oblivious. I pulled up, and somebody honked, but she looked up from her book while I put it in reverse, and backed in.
“Hand me my phone.” She picked it up, and unplugged the charger.
“I’ll take the picture,” she held it up.
“Make sure you get the apartment number.” He backed in the door, and looked around. Paranoid before he closed it, and she snapped the picture.
“Why’d you tell him we’re lesbians?” She saw the chat, right on top. It switched back to it, when she took the picture.
“Don’t send it, just save it.” Too bad she didn’t get the scared look on his face, but I had to wait for the light to change, behind me to pull out of the parallel parking space. “Well,” I thought, “You don’t want him to know who you really are, so I lied to him.”
;
Stan (mM)
I never took Art, but I knew where the building was, so I stopped by after school. “Hey, Mr. Halifax, a friend of mine dropped off his portfolio the other day, but he wanted me to look at a picture in it?”
He let me in, and went over to some drawers, by the wall. Long narrow ones, but he had to take his keys out, to unlock it. “Which one?”
He knew which student, so he didn’t ask. Which is good, because I didn’t recognize him. Yeah, I saw him around, but he was a senior, so I didn’t hang out with him, or anything.
“I don’t know,” I thought, “He said something about a study of light, and shadow.”
“Well, that’s what he’s working on.” He spread it out on the desk, and I was surprised to see photographs. Nude photographs, he wasn’t hard, but the way he lay back, with his leg up, and a cross-hatch of lines over his body. It looked kinda girly?
“So, you’re taking an interest in these sorts of things,” He stepped back. “I didn’t get your name.”
I shook my head, but I didn’t feel comfortable with him standing behind me. The way he said that, hinting that I might be interested in these pictures, because it was gay. “Uh, Stan.”
“How old are you, Stan?” I backed up, and he held his hands out, reassuringly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you nervous, but I could get in some trouble showing these to you, if you’re underage.”
“Well, I have to go, give my sister a ride home.” Tell her that he didn’t sign it.
“If you’d like to take my class, or maybe sit in on an informal session. We can always use more models. There’ll be lots of guys there.”
“No, that’s okay. Thanks, but no thanks.” I’m not gay, but Brandy was right. There is something a little weird going on here. In fact, it sounds like it’s more than a little queer, but I don’t have a problem with whatever guys do in private. It’s not my scene, but I don’t hate gay guys or anything.
None of my business, really. It sounds like he makes sure they’re at least 18, anyway. So, we can’t get him on Child Porn, or naked pictures of minors, but still. If he is running some sort of gay sex club after school, on campus. The principal might want to know about it.