A week later, Maisy’s phone stayed glued to her hand day and night as she exchanged thousands of texts with her new admirer. Each one set off a flutter of butterfly wings in her core. Even the school day was more tolerable, knowing that she’d have hours of uninterrupted time afterward with a boy she now knew was named Garrett. Lost in their back-and-forth messaging, he sent her poems and tentatively asked if she was falling as hard for him. She was, and though she’d never admit it to him, he was the first boy to declare his undying love and affection. He valued her opinions on his artwork and they sent ironic song lyrics to each other.
Every morning she woke up to kissy face emoticons, and every night she fell asleep with her phone still clenched in her hand. He hated speaking on the phone as much as she did, and when he asked her to video chat, her shyness won out and she made excuses. Instead, they embraced a modern twist on classic romance inspired by Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth, where each text became a secret promise, igniting vivid fantasies of each other. Maisy lived and breathed for them all day long.
After school, Maisy walked down the hall with her backpack slung over her shoulder and clutching a plate with two slices of pizza. Once in her room, she inhaled the pizza, then pulled out a makeup wipe and removed all her makeup before discarding it into the trash. She tapped the record button on her phone and squirted foundation that was two shades lighter on a sponge blender. Dabbing it onto her skin, she meticulously covered the freckles peeking out like clouds on a perfectly sunny day. Ringing her eyes in heavy eyeliner, she added a set of thick lashes and a metallic gunmetal shadow to her eyelids. Before applying each product, Maisy flashed it at the camera for viewers to see, hoping one day a makeup brand would reach out for a collaboration and she could monetize her content.
She turned her chin from side to side as she surveyed the progress in the mirror. Then she pulled out a pencil and made a series of small lines, darkening the blonder hairs of her eyebrows to blend with her current black hair color.
Yesterday, she’d added streaks of dark red to her roots, a color influenced by the bra she’d lifted at the mall. It cost seventy-two dollars, and the rush she felt when she exited the store wearing it underneath her clothing came second only to the interactions she’d been having all week long with Garrett. The allure of danger was intoxicating, and her pilfered Victoria’s Secret sparked a flurry of exhilarating euphoria inside her.
Back in her bedroom, Maisy took a series of photos and videos with her phone, spending the next twenty minutes pouring over them, analyzing her attributes with a critical eye, and then editing them with apps on her phone. With a few swipes and pinches, her cheekbones became more prominent, her eyes wider and more sparkly, her skin pale and effervescent. A notification popped up and she tapped to open it with a giddy rush. Seeing his handle, bliss quivered through her.
justapunk16: hey beautiful.
macabremaze: i have a surprise for you
justapunk16: aww…and it’s not even my birthday
She attached one of the new photos wearing only the bombshell bra, feeling daring, and when she tapped the button to send was instantly rewarded with a barrage of black heart emoticons. The rush of endorphins from his lavished adoration raced through her.
justapunk16: 1 more? just the choker?
Maisy didn’t hesitate. She whipped off her shirt and flung it onto the floor, then removed the push-up bra. It was the recklessness of pure teenage rebellion charging through her bloodstream that egged her on. She didn’t even think twice, eager to please Garrett, growing more bold and uninhibited as she continued to click photos of herself. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she quickly lit a few more candles. Then she pulled out the vial of costume blood she’d used for Halloween and let it drip from the corner of her mouth, knowing his obsession with vampires and blood rituals would give her the appreciation she craved like a drug.
justapunk16: you are a dark gothic princess and you are mine… lucky me
Maisy squealed as another delightful surge of dopamine fizzled through her blood stream.
justapunk16: touch yourself and pretend it’s me.
She tapped a reply then deleted it, then tapped another and deleted it too.
justapunk16: Send me a vid
Maisy hesitated only briefly, unafraid and unaware of any long-term ramifications. It was just a rush, a naughty game, a bold departure from the mundane, and it felt decadent. With a wicked grin, she complied. It took seven tries to get a good angle and after she hit send, she panicked briefly as she picked at the black nail polish on her thumbnail. She awaited his reaction with eager anticipation, her eyes glued to the incoming text bubble.
justapunk16: your body is fire… damn baby
Maisy felt herself flush hot with pleasure from head to toe. The warmth felt welcome and spurred her on. Over the next two hours, she got even more brazen and bold, following his explicit directions to the letter, then basking in the praise he gushed over the results each time.
Around midnight, she heard the front door open and hastily sent Garrett a text goodnight before throwing on a t-shirt and climbing into bed. When her door creaked open and her mother walked across the room to blow out the candles with another pained sigh, it took everything in her to lie still as her heart hammered in her chest. Her mother stopped for a second, surveying the room in the dim light.
“She’s cleaning it tomorrow,” she mumbled under her breath and then blessedly turned on her heel and walked away, shutting the door behind her. Maisy waited a few minutes in case she returned, and when she finally looked down at her phone, Garrett’s last message melted her.
justapunk16: you r mine 4ever