I did help. It took a lot of persuading on his part, of course, but I did. It was so scary the first time I took that picture. I'm sure I checked the bedroom door was locked twice, and even then I propped a stool against the handle. After I did that, I wasn't sure how to proceed. I peeled off my school clothes (I'm one of those people who don't get changed after school), and spent a bit of time staring at myself in the mirror.
At that point in time, puberty was starting to kick in. My waist had a couple of little curves, and my hips were filling out. My boobs looked like they existed, at least, though I'm pretty sure they were a B cup at the time. Damn, I'm describing my bra size to the police department. It makes sense, don't worry.
What I'm trying to explain is that I'm not an insecure girl. The reason that I sent those pictures to Zac wasn't because I needed his clarification, in order to gain some sick confidence. Sure, I began buying clinging tops and skirts that came halfway up my thigh, but that was just because...well, we didn't just send pictures. We Skyped too.
The reason I first agreed to Skype was because I simply wanted to hear his voice. This was a year after we started exchanging pictures. I'd imagined it to be husky and deep and all that cliché. We hadn't spoken on the phone or anything, purely because I always have been cautious about giving out my mobile number. But this was just the internet, my parents were out for the evening, and I just wanted to fall in love with his voice.
But he wanted to fall in love with me a different way.
After exchanging Skype names, he called me. His little icon popped up on the screen. My hand shook as I moved my mouse towards the green phone icon. Then I moved it to the red phone icon, the decline one. Then I thought, ‘This is Zac. There’s nothing to be afraid of.’ And so I pressed the green phone.
I was at least expecting to see a face. There was just a cool, dark screen. He hadn’t chosen to video call himself, it seemed. Which made me slightly mad, but that soon settled as I heard his voice say: “Hey beautiful.” Oh, my heart just shattered and melted and gave itself to him fully. It was, for a lack of better words, the sexiest voice ever.
“Hey,” I whispered. My knees were tucked into my woolly jumper. “Hey, Zac.”
There was a smile in his voice as he said quietly, “Unfold yourself, I want to see you.” So I did. “All of you. Take off that jumper; I want to see your gorgeous figure.” So I did.
I still had my school shirt on underneath, so I wasn’t too fazed. “Like that?”
“No. All of you, I said all of you.” I was so confused at first. But then it hit me. Despite my nerves rattling my bones as I undid my buttons, one by one, I still loved him. I wanted to please him. It sounds pathetic, but when you love someone, you will go to the moon and back for them. This was a piece of cake compared to that.
I unclipped my bra, tossed it to the ground, and finally met the eye of the camera. “Is that good enough?” My voice was flickering with vulnerability.
I think that just turned him on more, somehow. “Perfect. Oh, I wish we could just meet up and…” His breathing became heavy with lust.
“Zac,” I laughed awkwardly. “I’m a virgin. Something I want to keep the same until marriage.” This was bad, so bad. I wanted to meet him, sure, but…not just for things like that. I wanted to hold him close and soak in his scent and go home in his hoodie, but I did not want that.
Zac’s voice took a sharper edge, like a razorblade kiss. “Come on darling. You could show me. After all, I’m the only thing you’ve got.” There was something so definite about his voice that I believed him.
I slipped on a dressing gown. He didn’t protest, surprisingly. “How could we meet up?” I asked slowly. “You live ages away from me.”
“I’ll save up,” he replied waveringly. “I’ll get an apartment near you, so I can see you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I frowned. “Zac, you’re seventeen, you can’t just go upsticks and move.” Unless he was super rich, which I kind of doubted, considering he was on TeensQuack. If he had been rich, he would’ve been hanging out on yachts and drinking his parents’ champagne.
“I…I don’t like my parents. We don’t get on. They’ll give me some money just to get out of their way, I’m sure.”
Another red light. But my heart just panged in sympathy for him. “We could both save up and move in together?” At the time I just thought it’d stop him being lonely; even if he did have a roaring libido, I’d just get used to it.
“Sure!” I was just about able to picture him ducking behind his emo hair, to hide his smile. “Our plan. Let’s do that.”
But even the best laid plans can go astray, as I soon came to learn.