Chapter 1: The Snap That Lingers
AThe air in Ken’s dorm was thick and still, smelling of stale coffee and the ghost of last week’s cheap beer. His phone buzzed against the cheap particle board desk, the vibration skittering a half-empty Red Bull can next to his glowing laptop.
He tapped the screen, and Charlotte’s snap opened—a teasing, low-angle selfie, just the edge of her desk and the dangerous, familiar swell of cleavage. His thumb moved before his brain caught up, typing a reply. Damn girl.
He stared at the sent message, the two words feeling stupid and inadequate. His fingers tightened around the phone as another buzz came through, her reply: What do you mean?
Ken winced, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. He typed, deleted, then typed again, the crack in his laptop screen casting a jagged line across his reflection. I just forgot how large they were.
The three dots hovered. He could almost hear her laugh, light and dismissive. I guess haha, she finally sent.
The notification window vanished, leaving him alone in the humid dark with just the memory of her skin under his hands, the twelve hundred miles between them now a sharp, physical ache in his chest. He let the phone drop to the desk with a plastic clatter, the glowing image of her still seared behind his eyes.
He snatched it back up, determined, his fingers typing fast. Just means you have the body of a real woman, it’s just… really nice.
The three dots bloomed instantly. Ugh, my stomach looks like a road map lately, these insane stretch marks. I could take a pencil and trace them like lines on a ruler, it’s actually gross. They’re silvery when the light hits but still. He typed, They’re not that bad, and she fired back, Yeah they are, you haven’t seen them in decent light.
“Look, I get it,” he typed, the plastic case of his phone warm and slick under his thumbs. “For every not-so-great thing about ourselves, we get a winner too. Your compensation package happens to be world-class, so maybe just… cash those checks and forget the road maps.” The three dots pulsed, so he sent a second shot, the air in the room suddenly electric. “I have a gnarly scar on my shoulder from a bike thing, but I figure it’s okay ‘cause I definitely make up for it elsewhere.”
She didn’t reply. The next evening, his phone buzzed with another snap, just the sharp red of a Monster can held against the soft curve of her cleavage, and Ken didn’t hesitate, typing, “Tits and Monster Energy my favourite combo.” She replied instantly with three skull emojis and the words, “are u for real rn saying that”.