"Do you want the ice wraps?"
I wince as I sit on the living room floor and bend my knees towards my face, gingerly touching the moccasins I painstakingly put on after rehearsal. What's inside is far from pretty, and I'm almost scared to look. "Yeah," I answer Jackson, who's already making his way towards the kitchen where I store ice for situations like this.
He comes back with two bags of ice and I still haven't mustered the courage to take my shoes off. They're wrapped in bandages underneath, but even still, it's a lot to take in. He looks at my pinched features and furrows his eyebrows, kneeling next to me. "This isn't right," he says.
"It's just what the shoes do," I say.
"No, I know that," he says. "But I mean… I don't like seeing you in this much pain. It's wrong. Why haven't they invented something less cruel?"
"It's art," I say, taking the moccasins off.
He looks at the wraps on my feet for a while, letting his eyes linger on the red-stained cloth. "Oh, April," he says.
I cover my face with my hands and start to cry, unable to keep my tears at bay. His tone of voice cuts through my chest and roots itself there, forcing every emotion out along with the exhaustion I feel. Rehearsal was hard today. I was on my feet for nearly twelve hours straight. I stopped feeling the pain after a while, but it's all coming back now - right here on the floor with him.
"It's okay," he soothes, gently unraveling the bandage from one of my sore feet. We've been together for about a month now, and for the same amount of time he's been helping with my ravaged feet after I get home from rehearsals that take everything out of me. "You're okay."
I lie flat on the floor and keep my hands over my eyes, trying not to let the sobs take over my body. I don't want to have a fit; I'm usually good at keeping my emotions in check and it's stupid to cry over something physical. I'm not a baby. I can handle this. I've been dancing ballet since I could walk - the pain isn't new. But this is worse than anything I've ever experienced, and it doesn't only cost my body. It costs my mind, too, and nearly every ounce of energy I possess.
When both feet are uncovered, I flinch at the cool air that hits the raw skin. I grit my teeth as he dabs my skin with a cold, wet washcloth, then clench my fists as he puts disinfectant in the wounds and cracks. "Shit," I whimper, pinching my eyes shut tightly.
"I know," he says.
When he wraps the ice bags around my feet, I let out a long sigh. It isn't total relief, but it's the closest I can get and it has to be enough. "Thank you," I say, on my back again with my feet raised on a few throw pillows.
"At least the pillows are good for something," he says, one hand on my shin.
I can't even muster a quippy comeback. Instead, I just laugh weakly and say, "Yeah."
"How was it today?" he asks, rubbing my leg. "Other than awful."
I muster another sad-sounding chuckle. "It was fine, really," I say quietly. "We got a lot done. The middle section is clean now; Herman couldn't find anything to nitpick."
"That's good," he says.
"Yeah, it is," I say. "I swear, I hear her voice in my sleep."
He laughs and says, "That's terrifying."
"You're telling me."
I stay there on the floor for a long time - until the ice melts. Then, I push up onto my elbows and take a deep breath, knowing that it's time for a shower no matter how much I dread being on my feet again. "Do you want help?" Jackson asks once I'm standing.
"I got it," I say, hobbling towards the bathroom. "I think shower assistance is a little too much for my dignity."
"It might be sexy," he says suggestively.
"With these bloody stumps?" I ask lightly. "Probably not. If you think a shower seat is sexy, though… you might like what's coming."
He laughs and I hear the oven beep as he preheats it, getting ready to start on dinner. I turn the shower as hot as it will go and stand under the jet for a long time, letting it soak my hair and relax my muscles as much as possible. By the time I come out, all the sweat, grime and blood is scrubbed away and I feel more like myself - better. My feet still hurt, but it's a manageable pain. More along the lines of a dull ache rather than a stabbing sensation, one I can push to the back of my mind.
I put on a pair of sweatpants and a camisole, and I'm working on running a comb through my wet hair as I walk through the hallway and listen to my phone go off about a million times in a row. A sense of urgency lights in my gut as I pick up the pace, but by the time I make it to the kitchen where my phone sits on the counter, Jackson is already peering at the screen. "Sorry," I say, trying to sound casual as I grab it.
I have nothing to hide. He obviously knows what I do for a living, but something about it still feels wrong. "You're blowing up," he says nonchalantly, turning back to face the stovetop where water is boiling.
He's made himself pretty comfortable in my house over the past month, and that's something I like. It's like he's belonged here the whole time. Right now, though, the space feels more like his than mine and I'm not sure how to feel about that. "Yeah," I say, turning around to scroll through the notifications. "Cam guys."
"And Ariel, too, I think," he says.
He's not wrong. I see a few texts from her, even a missed call. She's been trying her hardest the past couple days to contact me, though it's been almost a month since the incident in the parking lot. I still haven't told Jackson about it even though he's asked why my sister and I aren't talking. I've made up excuses every time. Plus, it's not like I'm ignoring Ariel completely. I've stopped at my mom's house periodically and I act civil to her. I'm not icing her out; I just need a break. That's all. It's not worth getting into because it'll blow over eventually. "Yeah, typical," I respond.
"I think she called."
"Uh-huh," I say, swiping the notification bubble away.
"Dinner will be a little bit if you wanna call her back," he says, looking over his shoulder. "I don't care."
"No, it's fine," I say, setting the phone down. This time, the screen lies flat on the counter instead of face-up. "Do you need help?"
"Nah," he says.
"Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it," I say, pasting on a smile. "I know you're the chef and all, but still."
He shoots me back an equally-as-forced smile. "It's just boiling water, babe," he says. "The chicken is already in. I'm fine. You should call your sister."
I roll my eyes quickly and turn away, leaning on the counter with my elbows in front of me. "I'm good," I say.
"Are you still not talking?"
I let out a long sigh. "I told you, it's not like that."
"Yeah," he says, opening the oven door to peer inside. "I know. But it just seems weird. You used to be over there all the time and you guys were good friends. Now, you never bring her up. Did something happen?"
I let my weight relax further so my shoulders hunch by my ears. "Yeah, but it doesn't matter," I say. "Honestly. It's just petty sister shit. I don't wanna get into it."
"With me or with her?"
"Either," I say. "It's stupid."
"What was it?" he asks.
"It doesn't matter," I say.
"You've been giving her the cold shoulder for a month. That seems like it matters."
I grit my teeth and wonder how to get around this. It's obvious he won't let me shove it off to the side, and it's not even in a malicious or overly-nosy way. He's genuinely curious because he cares about mine and Ariel's relationship, and that's what bothers me the most. How can I be mad at him for caring? How can I ask him to care less without sounding like a bitch? I'm not used to being partnered with someone, not used to sharing every aspect of my life with another person. Most of the time it's comforting and stabilizing, but at times like this it's irritating. I'm not necessarily keeping a secret, it's just something that doesn't involve him.
"She went off on me and she was out of line. We fought and I'm pretty sure she knows she was wrong. She like, threatened me and started acting like she knows her shit. That's what we tend to fight about - when she acts like she's grown up and I'm the kid." I shake my head. "She knows exactly how to get to me and she always does it. I love her so much, but sometimes I hate how she acts."
"What did she say that pissed you off?" he asks, stirring the pasta.
I chew the inside of my cheek and stare at his muscular back, watching the muscles move minutely as his arm oscillates with the spoon in hand. When I don't answer, he looks over his shoulder to make eye contact and I decide just to let it out. "She's mad because… I don't know, she's smothering me. Being overprotective and shit. And she has no reason to be."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm getting there," I snap, frowning a bit. "It happened a few weeks ago, after rehearsal. We fought about something else stupid, I can't even remember. Maybe when she went through my phone like a dick and called me a slut. Yeah, I think that was it. I was already pissed about that and she came to my school because I wasn't picking up the phone. And she was like, trying to apologize but not really apologizing, just like… getting in my business. As usual. And…" I sigh and rub my temples with both hands. "God. Okay. Well, Buddy showed up. And she flipped her shit saying she was gonna tell Mom and Dad about what I do. And like, I know that's an empty threat, but it's such a shitty thing for her to say and I can't stand it when she gets all high and mighty like that. She knows this is how I'm putting myself through school and if Mom and Dad found out… it would be fucking awful."
Jackson is quiet for a moment, spoon still in hand as he turns around. "Wait, who's Buddy again?" he asks.
"Buddy, um… UrDaddy420," I say. "He's a viewer."
"Did you know he was coming?" Jackson asks. "Why was he at school? Isn't that against your rules, telling them locations and stuff like that?"
"I didn't tell him," I say. "He found out. But it wasn't weird. I told him not to look for me ever again and he hasn't since. Everything has been totally normal."
"Why was he there, though?" he asks, his voice holding a bit of an edge now. "Did he want you to like, get him off or something? Is he really that desperate?"
"Jackson, no. God," I say, rolling my eyes. "It wasn't like that. He was trying to warn me about guys on the app acting shitty. I haven't noticed anything since, but he was trying to be nice. I still told him to fuck off, though, basically."
"Okay," he says.
"And Ariel freaked out saying that it's unsafe and that she's gonna tell on me. Like we're five."
"Well, it is unsafe," he says.
I narrow my eyes. "You're seriously gonna side with her?"
"It's not about sides, it's the truth," he says. "It's creepy that some viewer found where you go to school. What's next?"
"Now you sound like her," I say, scoffing. "This is why I didn't tell you. It wasn't a big deal. Seriously, it wasn't. I told him to leave and he left. He respects me."
"If he respected you, he wouldn't stalk you."
"He's not stalking me," I say. "He was warning me."
"What does that even mean?" he asks. "Warning you about what?"
I shrug and huff out a loud gust of air. "He said that guys were saying nasty shit about how I'm acting different… but I didn't let him finish. I told him to leave. I don't know what you want, Jackson. I told him to go away, so I don't really have the answer as to why he was there in the first place."
"He shouldn't have been there at all," he says. "That's too close. Why didn't you tell me?
"I don't need you handling my shit," I say. "Alright? You're my boyfriend, but I have my own thing going on. I know how to take care of it."
"I'm not trying to act like that," he says. "But what if something bad had happened?"
"I know him," I say. "He's not capable of something like that."
"You think you know him," he says. "Guaranteed you don't. Guys like that are fucking creeps."
"Guys like that?" I say. "Guys on the app? Should I remind you where you and I met?"
He shoots me a look and says, "You know what I mean."
"I don't wanna fight," I say. "I don't want this to turn into a thing. I got in the car and told him to leave and he left. He didn't give me any problems."
"You got in the car?" Jackson spews. "Jesus, April, do you have a death wish?"
"Oh my god, it's fucking Buddy!" I say. "He wouldn't hurt me if someone had a gun to his head. He's like, obsessed with me."
"That's the issue," he says. "Are you really this blind? I'm starting to think Ariel has a point."
"Great, I'll let her know," I say, then walk towards the couch. "I don't wanna talk about it anymore."
I'm stressed and tense and I need an orgasm more than anything - and I can't believe that's what's on the forefront of my mind. I don't want one from Jackson, though.
I'm only in the living room for a few minutes until he appears behind the couch. "If you want me to leave, I will," he says. "You're probably thinking about doing a show."
I furrow my eyebrows and wonder what he's trying to say. "Why do you say it like that?" I ask.
"Like what?"
"You make it sound so dirty," I reply. "Doing a show."
"What else should I call it?"
"I don't know, just don't say it like that," I say. "You watched me, too, you know. It's not like you can act all high and mighty."
"I'm aware," he says. "I wasn't saying it like anything. I was just saying you can do a show if you want, I'll get out of your hair."
"I don't need permission," I say.
"I wasn't…" He sighs and rubs his head, shaking it as he does. "Do you want me to leave or not?"
"I don't know," I say, turning around with tense shoulders.
"Alright then," he breathes. "Dinner's done, if you're hungry."
"I don't think I'm gonna eat," I say. "I need some space. You don't have to go. You can eat, I don't care. I just need to be alone for a little bit. I'll be fine. I just… I need a minute."
"Alright."
I get up and walk down the hall to my bedroom, where I dig in my closet for a cam outfit that I haven't worn in a while. I tell myself that I'm not getting in front of the camera because he told me that I could; the idea was in my head before he brought it up. I need the extra money. I have the time. I'm wired from being irritated, so there's no reason why I shouldn't get something out of it.
I put on a light pink, see-through bralette with triangular cups and a white, frilly skirt. I find a pair of knee socks with lace along the trim and tie my hair into the signature ponytails, playing up my blush and applying a thick coat of lip gloss. I paint on a few extra freckles and shimmer highlight on my cheekbones and chest, feeling confident and camera-ready for the first time in a while.
When I cross the hall to the cam room, Jackson is nowhere in sight but I can hear the TV. I put him out of my mind for the time being, though, forcing myself to forget the fact that a small part of me knows he and my sister are right. That doesn't matter at the moment. Those are April's problems and I'm not her anymore. For the next hour or so, I'm Caroline. And she doesn't have any problems to speak of.
Welcome to your session, xxxCaroline. Go Live now?
The monitor opens with a welcome screen, something I'm very familiar with. I get situated on my knees with the remote beside me, primping and fluffing my hair for when the red light comes on.
You will go Live in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. xxxCaroline, you are now Live!
I watch myself flash a smile on the big screen and tug on one pigtail as the viewers come streaming in. I can't deny that it's a rush - one that I haven't felt in what seems like forever. I've been so busy and my cam job is what's suffered because of it. It's not that I actively missed it, but I missed the attention and the money.
"Hi, boys," I say, happy as familiar usernames appear on the right side of the screen. "I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. My daddy took away my computer as a punishment for being a bad, bad girl."
Bigdick_9: jesus christ we missed you baby girl
Peterpiperpecker: show us ur tits we've been waiting long enough
Kenny69: get me off baby
"Seriously? I can't even get a 'hello?'" I say coyly, moving to sit with my knees bent, feet flat on the floor. I keep them wide so the camera has a good shot between my legs, to the white fabric of my panties.
2horny4u: i can almost see that pretty pussy
Oldfaithful100: why dont u show it to us pretty baby?
Oldfaithful100 TIPPED YOU 200 COINS
Papabear TIPPED YOU 300 COINS
Papabear: you heard the man… cant we see that little pussy?
"Maybe…" I say, running my hands up and down my thighs. "But I just got here. I'm starting to think that you guys only like me for my body." I stick my lower lip out and pout, making big, puppy-dog eyes at the camera. "You're not just using me, are you? Am I just a toy to you guys?"
UrDaddy420: No, baby no. never
I paint on a glistening smile. "I knew you would say that, 420," I say sweetly.
UrDaddy420 TIPPED YOU 500 COINS
UrDaddy420: I always take care of my little girl
UrDaddy420 TIPPED YOU 550 COINS
UrDaddy420: take your panties off and touch yourself, sweetie
I touch the zipper on the back of my skirt after lifting onto my knees, keeping my eyes on the lens the whole time. As I get the zipper lower and lower, more tips chime in and I feel a deep sense of satisfaction. They really are easy. This has to be the simplest job in the world.
"What if my daddy gets home?" I ask, sitting back on the floor in just my underwear.
Bigboi12: maybe he can join and you'll let us watch
"My daddy?" I ask, gasping with wide eyes for effect. "You're so naughty, Biggie."
Bigboi12: he can finally teach you that lesson you need to learn. Bend you over and fuck it into you
Papabear: i'd rather be the one to do that to you, baby. I'd fill you up nice and tight
I let my knees fall outwards and rub myself over my panties, keeping steady eye contact with the screen as I do. "I know you would, Bear," I say, leaning my neck to one side. "Mmm, it's been so long since I've had an orgasm. It's not fair."
Camguy11: take off your panties and we'll make it happen
Camguy11 TIPPED YOU 300 COINS
"If I take them off and my daddy sees, he'll spank me," I say, batting my eyelashes. "And my bottom is still sore from when I got in trouble last time. It's so red and it stings when I sit down. He hit me so hard. I was so bad."
Papabear: did you deserve it, little girl?
"Probably," I say, tracing my lower lip with one finger while keeping the other hand inside my panties. "What would you do to me, Bear?"
2sitonmyfaceee: I'd shove my cock so deep into your pussy that you could taste it. I'd rip that asshole open and make you bleed, you fucking slut. I'd fuck you so hard until you begged me to stop but there's no fuckign way i would stop until i came in every single one of your dirty holes
"Whoa," I say, letting my eyebrows come together just a bit.
UrDaddy420: Take a damn breather, son
Papabear: That's our little girl. We take care of her, we dont hurt her
FarmerJon: unless she asks us to
Camguy11: unless she's naughty.
2sitonmyfaceee TIPPED YOU 300 COINS
2sitonmyfaceee: Take off the fucking underwear and fuck yourself with a dagger, slut
UrDaddy420: Hey, fuck you. Carebear, block him from the chat.
Kenny69: this is probably that rich ass dude under a new user
2sitonmyfaceee: fuck you don't you fucking dare block me. I know where you live bitch
My face heats up and my heart begins to hammer. I know those are empty words; there's no way he knows anything. But still, the fear is enough to take me out of character for a split second and force me to wonder what I'm doing. It only lasts a moment, though, before I come back as Caroline. "It's fine, guys," I say, my voice high. "Can't we all get along? Who wants to see me take these off? I can put them in the mail, if you want…"
A huge number of tips roll in as I take the underwear off and fold them into a neat square, setting them near the remote. When my bottom half is bare, I fall onto my hands and knees and arch my back so my spine dips and my ass lifts, chewing on my lower lip as I stare at the camera and watch money make its way into my account.
UrDaddy420: You look so beautiful like that, baby
Kenny69: SHOW US TITS
Peterpiperpecker: bent over is literally the best way to have you. FUCK caroline i wanna fuck you so goddamn bad
"Wanna see me touch myself?" I ask them, lifting onto my knees and sliding both hands down my torso. "If you want me to, I will…"
2sitonmyfaceee: I SAID USE THE FUCKING KNIFE. I WANNA SEE YOU BLEED, CUNT
A frown takes over as I reach for the mouse, prepared to block him and get him out of the chat. But as I'm leaned over trying to grab it, I hear the door open and Jackson's voice come through. "Hey, baby. I was just wondering if- oh, fuck. Shit."
I widen my eyes and flip around, staring at him with my face on fire. "Get out," I say, trying not to let my voice raise. He's in view of the camera, though. Everyone watching me has undoubtedly seen him. "You have to go," I say, and he quickly leaves.
I turn back to the camera, trying to stay focused, but it's not going to work now. My body is boiling with rage and humiliation - I'm half naked and I didn't want him to see the other side of things, ever. And not only did I not want him to see the guys, I never wanted the guys to see him. I feel violated by both parties and I have no idea what to do about it.
"Sorry about that," I say, laughing uncomfortably. "Where were we?"
Papabear: who was that?
Kenny69: was that your daddy?
Camguy11: no way hes her daddy. Shes white as hell
"He wasn't… no, that… you guys don't need to worry about him, okay?" I say, tucking a few loose hairs behind my ears. "I'm here now. Just me and you."
Peterpiperpecker: No youre not you fcking liar. Thats your boyfriend, isnt it? Fucking slut
2sitonmyfaceee: WHORE SLUT CUNT DIRTY ASS BITCH LYING ASS PIECE OF SHIT
UrDaddy420: Do you really have a boyfriend, Carebear?
"You guys don't have to worry!" I say, trying to save face as best I can. I have no idea what to say, though; I have no idea what will dig me out of this hole.
2sitonmyfaceee: LYING FUCKING BITCH CHEATING DIRTY WHORE
"Stop," I say. "I didn't lie. There's nothing wrong with…" My eyes burn with tears both from frustration and embarrassment, and I know there's no way to bring this back around. "I have to go," I say.
BigBoi12: dont sign off you naughty little girl. You have to make it up to us
Papabear: Have you been cheating, Carebear? Have you lied to us?
2sitonmyfaceee: IM GONNA KILL YOU YOU FUCKING CHEAP UGLY SLUT. IM GONNA RIP YOU OPEN TIL YOU BLEED AND SEE IF YOU LIKE HOW THAT FEELS
"I have to go," I say, sniffling as I quickly sign off and pull my underwear back on. I take the pigtails out and pull on the robe that hangs on the back of the door to my cam room, then burst into the hallway. The door slams against the all with the amount of force I open it with, but I don't care. "Jackson," I say through gritted teeth.
My phone chimes over and over again, telling me that I have a handful of messages coming in from the CamGirl app. It doesn't surprise me. I have absolutely no desire to see what they say, because I can't imagine it's anything positive. Probably threats. Probably nasty insults. But I can deal with them later.
"Jackson!" I exclaim, stomping down the hall.
"What?" he says from the couch. He rests there casually and innocently, like he hasn't done anything wrong. It only makes me seethe more.
"You did that on purpose," I say, and my voice wobbles without my permission. I don't want to cry because I don't want to let the weakness I'm feeling on the inside show on the outside. That's the last thing I need. "You walked in on purpose."
"What?" he says, eyes narrowing with confusion. "What? No."
"Yes, you did," I say, bunching my fists.
"I didn't," he says, keeping his voice calm. "I had no idea you were live."
"Yes, you did," I repeat. "Yes, you did! You told me that I should do a show. Jackson, you know that's my cam room!"
"I didn't think you were filming!" he says. "All I was doing was looking for you to tell you that there are leftovers if you want them. Honestly, that's all I was doing. I wasn't trying to… I don't know what you think I was trying to do, but I wasn't doing that."
"You don't like the idea of me going in front of the camera, do you?" I say. "That's why you tried to ruin it. You're jealous."
"April, what?" he says. "Why are you picking a fight? I told you it was an accident and I'm really sorry. I knocked, but I didn't hear anything from inside and I guess you didn't notice."
"You are not allowed in that room!" I say.
"You've never said that before," he says. "And I don't like being yelled at. It was a fucking mistake."
"Whatever," I say, my whole body hot with rage. "Whatever, Jackson."
"I should go," he says. "Obviously, you need some time alone."
"I needed time alone before you ruined my show!" I say without turning around.
"Why didn't you say something?" he asks. "I'm an adult and so are you. What are we doing if not communicating?"
"I don't know," I say, picking up my phone to scroll through it. I ignore the notifications from CamGirl, but see that I have a text message from a private number.
"Well, that's great," Jackson says, standing up to put his shoes on. "Let me know when you figure out what you want. Because I-"
"Holy shit," I say, staring at the screen.
"I'm not trying to be a dick," he continues. "But if we're not in this for the same reasons, then I don't know why we're doing it at all. I need some time to cool off, I think you do, too. And-"
"Wait," I say, blinking hard.
"What?" he says, looking over.
I can't take my eyes off of the picture that's now taking up the full screen of my phone. I want to, but I can't. It's a photo of someone trying to be sexy, and if I didn't know better I would think the subject is me. But I didn't take this selfie - I don't own the bra and underwear that the girl is wearing. And I don't own the butterfly clip that's situated in her hair, either. Her face is obstructed by the flash in the mirror, but I know that clip. I know that underwear set because I did my laundry at my parents' house a few weeks ago. The person in this picture, posing in her underthings in front of a bathroom mirror, is my little sister. "What the fuck?" I say, closing my eyes and opening them like that might make the picture disappear.
"What is it?" Jackson asks.
"Someone sent me… no," I say, making the picture small to go back to the message thread. "This can't be real. Someone's being fucking annoying and messing with me."
"Sent you what?"
Almost as soon as he asks, two more pictures appear in the same thread. The first one is of the same girl completely naked from the waist up, one breast covered with her hand as the other one must be holding the phone to take the picture. Still, her face is obscured. I refuse to believe it. The second one, though, is damning. Her face is in in the picture fully. She's lying on her stomach on her bed - I see the familiar comforter - half of her face close to the lens and her bare ass in view, too. "Jesus," I say, tears pricking the backs of my eyes for a different reason now. Fear.
"What?" Jackson says desperately. "You're freaking me out."
"Someone just sent me nudes of my sister," I say, and I realize my hands are shaking as I'm still staring at the phone. With my eyes cemented on the photos, a gray text message comes next.
RECEIVED: Baby sis isn't so innocent.
Without wasting time, I type back a reply right away.
SENT: who is this?
RECEIVED: I have more.
RECEIVED: And all of yours, too.
RECEIVED: Can't wait to fucking send them out.
"What the fuck?!" I spew, tears streaming down my face.
"April, what is going on?" Jackson says. "Who sent the pictures?"
"A private number," I say, voice waterlogged. "I can't fucking believe this. They said they have more. And mine… they have… fuck!"
"Is someone playing a sick joke?" he asks.
"I have no fucking clue," I say, gathering my purse and coat.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to talk to my sister," I say, sniffling and wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "I need to figure out why her dumb ass is sending pictures like this and who she sent them to."
"What if she got hacked?" he asks.
"No one got hacked," I say. "I know she sent them out. She's been talking about trying what I do for forever, ever since I told her about it." I shake my head vehemently. "I know she did something stupid. She never fucking listens to me."
With those words, I start to cry harder and can barely see to get my shoes on. As I try to shove my feet in to no avail, I collapse against the wall and slide down with my knees to my chest, eventually resting my forehead against them. "Why don't you just call her?" Jackson suggests.
I nod shakily and try to regain composure, but it's not easy with those pictures staring me in the face. Ariel might be a fucking idiot, but I still won't let someone hurt her. It's clear either someone wants to, or there's a person out there with a sick sense of humor. I don't want to wait to find out which it is.
Luckily, my sister picks up on the first ring. "Bunny," she says, sounding relieved. "I've been texting you like crazy. Are you finally over it now? Can we please be friends again?"
"Ariel," I say, trying to sound firm while holding back tears.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Ariel," I say again, setting my jaw. "What the fuck are you doing messing around with cam stuff?"
