The girls were lounging in the common room, their bare legs glistening along the armrests.

“Tyler?”

“Oh god he’s so cute.”

“Not worth it though. I chased him for a year. He likes to brag about how he once kissed three different girls the same day.”

Carol giggled. “I was one of them...”

Kelly was only half listening. These kinds of conversations tuned her out. Not that she didn’t like guys. She quite did, in ways that the other girls probably didn’t even suspect—

“Kelly! We’re talking to you!”

“What?”

“Are you going to break up with Jack?”

Was she going to break up with Jack? The answer should be obvious, but she hesitated. “What do you think I should do?”

“Stay with him, of course,” said Michelle. “He’s gorgeous. Any of us would take him in a heartbeat.”

“I would!” Dawn chimed in.

“I ended up in Mr. Bolger’s office,” said Kelly testily.

“What happened?”

“He gave me a big lecture about personal safety, the school’s reputation, blah blah fucking blah. He said he’d let me off with a warning this time, but I’d be expelled and charged if it ever happens again.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have done it,” Andrea said primly.

“Yes, she should have,” said Michelle. “I caught my boyfriend jacking off to it, and...” She smirked rather than finish the sentence.

“I didn’t think Jack got sent to Mr. Bolger,” said Dawn thoughtfully. “He was getting high-fives from other guys in the hall.”

“He wasn’t.” Kelly felt anger curdle in the pit of her stomach. She had not done anything wrong. She was eighteen, he was eighteen. He, not she, had been the one who sent it out, and this being a high school, it inevitably ended up in the hands of minors. She knew no charge against her could stand up in court, but the principal had threatened her, not Jack.

And Jack had been getting high-fives for his pains. She stood up, her face suddenly scarlet with rage. “Fuck Jack. Fuck him.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Carol soothed. “You can have any other guy you want.”

“Except our boyfriends,” Michelle said defensively, only half joking.

“They’ll be lining up at the door to fuck you, now that—” began Andrea, stopping on seeing the stony expression on Kelly’s face.

“Not Senthil!” said Carol, trying to break the tension.

All the girls except Kelly burst into raucous laughter.

“He’s so ugly—”

“Imagine what he would smell like—”

“You know what they say about—”

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” Kelly shouted. She glared at their startled faces, then without another word stormed out of the room.

Kelly sat on the bus, brooding. Her knees were folded up to her chest. Her skirt was so short that her thong was clearly visible to anyone who cared to look, but she did not care.

Andrea’s words had not been idle; Kelly’s slim lithe figure and her penchant for short skirts and tight jeans had attracted plenty of male attention. The line between wanted and unwanted was narrower with her than with most other girls. She had never really minded — in fact had often enjoyed — guys whistling at her in the halls or making admiring remarks about her legs or ass or breasts, as long as they were respectful. If Jack had asked her, she might have said yes.

She wasn’t the kind to mind that much if a boyfriend cheated on her — guys were horny, she got that. In fact, that was what she loved about them. But lying to her — that was another story. Absolutely unacceptable. As was taking her for granted and violating her privacy without permission. Jack hadn’t asked her. He had just done it. And she was the one who had gotten in trouble, not him.

“Hey! Look at the legs!”

Kelly was sauntering along in the hallways when she got the catcall. She turned around instinctively, the customary grin rising to her face.

She’d been told she had the kind of face you could stare at for hours and never get tired of. Her chocolate-brown eyes shone all the brighter when surrounded by eyeliner and mascara; her eyelashes had been invitingly curled. Her lips glowed bright red. Straight long brown hair flowed smoothly down her back.

She was sporting a blue blouse at least a size too tight, buttons straining, gaps in between them showing off skin as if daring a viewer to say anything. The top two buttons were left undone, giving a generous view of the top half of her breasts. Her tan skirt barely cleared her ass, leaving her slim, sinuous legs free to work their magic on all who saw them. Kelly knew how to occasionally turn, stop, or twirl in such a way that the skirt briefly flew up, offering a glimpse, but no more, of the thongs she liked to wear.

She looked back at the two young men, boys really, boys looking at her hourglass figure and shapely legs and responding the way young men do. She’d never thought anything wrong with that before, but somehow this was different.

After a breakup, she knew what she’d always have done — giggle, flirt, maybe even allow a feel or two. Eventually she’d be on her knees, blowing one, or the other, or even both. And then—

What did she mean to them? They were lining up to fuck her, just as the girls had predicted. Was she a person, or just a pair of legs? And what did they mean to her? Were they real people, or just cocks to suck? Kelly loved sucking cock. And yet, after what Jack had done, it didn’t feel like enough.

The grin died on her face, and she turned around and stomped off without another word.

“You’re going to work in pairs for his project,” droned on Mr. Michelson, the history teacher. “You have to research and present this to the class one week from today.” He began announcing pairs of students, among them, “Kelly, with Senthil.”

Senthil — yes, that was what had made her angry the other day, the casual racism of how her friends had dissed him.

Senthil was something of a mystery. He had a distinctive appearance too; he was one of the few Indian (or was he Pakistani? Bangladeshi?) students in the school, and on top of that he was quite overweight. Kelly realized she’d never even seen an overweight brown-skinned Asian before, not even on TV. There were, of course plenty of overweight kids at her school, but she’d never paid them much attention.

Like most guys, Senthil spent a lot of time glued to his phone, but he wasn’t swapping pictures of girls or checking out the latest TV episodes or sports scores. He was constantly reading e-books. And it showed. The guy had almost limitless knowledge. He’d taken the school’s trivia team to the state championships. He always seemed to have the top grades in almost every class.

Senthil had even won prizes for debating and public speaking, which surprised Kelly the most. He was so shy, seldom talking to anyone unless they talked to him first, and even then in a quiet, scared voice. Few bothered to approach him except to ask for help with their homework. Kelly had never needed this, as she was a strong student herself, but she had seen Senthil generously help plenty of others. Michelle, she who just now had called him ugly, had once pretended to flirt with him to get homework help, but he hadn’t seemed to notice, talking to her in the same monotone he used with everyone, but even more quietly. It was like talking to a mouse, she’d complained.

That afternoon, researching in the library, Kelly found herself impressed by how fast Senthil’s mind worked, flitting from topic to topic yet never losing sight of their core argument. His voice got stronger and more confident when he talked about familiar subjects. Sitting close she noticed that her friends had been wrong — he didn’t smell bad at all.

“Nice photo, Kelly!” said another guy walking past, a leer on his face. “Is he your next photographer?” chortled another a few minutes later. Senthil ignored them at first, but eventually his curiosity was aroused.

“What are they talking about?” he asked.

“Didn’t you see the photo of me?” she queried.

“What picture?”

“This picture.” She glanced around to make sure no adult was nearby, then whipped out her phone, tapped on the screen a bit and passed it over. There, in all its glory, was the selfie she’d sent to Jack, as naked as the day she was born.

“Th ... that’s you.”

“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”

“I ... I haven’t seen it before.”

He must have been practically the only one in the school who hadn’t seen it. Hell, the fucking principal had seen it.

“I sent it to my boyfriend,” she explained. “But, of course, he had to forward it on to his friends, and they forwarded it to their friends, and so on to—”

“—everyone except me,” Senthil finished ruefully. She smiled at him.

“So what do you think of it?” she asked.

“I ... I think you are very beautiful.”

It was odd, that. She’d been called hot, sexy, gorgeous, a babe, sizzling, but so rarely did a guy call her the simple word “beautiful”.

“Maybe they should have sent it to you instead of the principal,” she said, trying to sound nice, but she could not mask the bitterness in her voice.

“You and your boyfriend got in trouble with the principal?”

“Ex-boyfriend, now. And only I got in trouble. Not him. They even threatened to go to the police.”

“On what charge?”

“Distributing pornography to minors.”

“Your ex-boyfriend was under eighteen?”

“No, he wasn’t, but most of the guys who got the photo were.”

“But that’s not your fault. You told him not to send it out.”

“Exactly! You are literally the first person to see this from my point of view.” She could have kissed him.

They had assembly at the end of the school day. Kelly had mixed feelings about assemblies. Those put on by the student council were often interesting; there were usually at least some dance numbers featuring hot guys or girls eager to show off. Those put on by faculty, however, were typically droning lectures, sternly warning about responsibility, diligence, and other apparently lost virtues.

Kelly sat down near the middle of the auditorium. The sight of her curvaceous legs was usually enough to bring at least one hopeful guy to sit beside her, but no such luck today. She did see Senthil sitting at the front.

The principal entered the stage. Shit.

“Before we begin,” his reedy voice intoned, “I’d like to make an announcement. Recently, a young lady sent out a picture of an inappropriate nature.” He pressed the projector switch and an image came up on the screen.

School assemblies were not noted for their ability to shock a student, but this was an exception. Kelly could not believe her eyes. There it was — the picture she’d sent to Jack. It was cropped, of course, showing only her face and the top of her shoulders, but from the furtive snickers and glances spreading throughout the auditorium, she knew everyone was thinking of the original.

“We have warned you before, especially the young ladies, that taking pictures like this is very immature, very foolish, and very irresponsible...”

Kelly’s fingers curled into fists, her face twisted into a snarl, her stomach twisted into a knot. So it was not enough to call her out in his office, he had to humiliate her in front of every teacher and every student in the school?

Someone stood up, his hand in the air.

“Yes, Sandy?”

“Senthil. My name is Senthil.”

“Yes, Santhil.”

“May I ask where you got the photo from?”

“What are you implying, Santhil?”

“My name is pronounced Sen-thil, sir. And I would like to ask if Kelly sent you that photo herself?”

The audience started tittering as they realized the implications. “Another student, whom I will not name, sent me the photo,” the principal snapped.

“Kelly sent that photo to her boyfriend, did she not?” Senthil asked. “How did this other student come into possession of it?”

The principal’s face reddened. “That is none of your business.”

Senthil did not budge. “I would like an answer to the question, sir.”

The room went quiet. You didn’t speak to school officials like that.

“I am not answerable to you, and I would like you to sit down and let this assembly continue,” the principal huffed.

Senthil stood there, an expression of calm maturity in his face. “A photo of this kind is inherently private. If it fell into anyone’s hands other than the one Kelly had entrusted it to, that is a betrayal of that trust. It is that individual who should be reprimanded, not Kelly.”

“See me after school, Santhil.”

“Perhaps you should learn to pronounce students’ names properly before you try to police their sexuality, sir. And perhaps you should place blame where it belongs, instead of rushing to judgment on the innocent party.”

The principal stared. “This assembly is dismissed. Everyone back to their classrooms.”

Kelly spent the last period in shock. They’d all described Senthil as a shy loser, but she couldn’t believe the fearlessness with which he’d confronted the principal. Most students would have glanced down at the floor, or retreated to a shy quiet voice, when talking to someone in authority. Senthil had been standing with total self-assurance and confidence. His voice had been loud enough to project across a large room, yet without sounding like a shout or bellow. The combination of calmness and icy determination had been compelling.

Was this how he did debating tournaments? No wonder he’d won prizes.

Why was he so powerful in a confrontation, yet so shy and diffident when talking to girls? The answer was obvious. He believed in his principles, he believed in his arguments, but he didn’t believe in himself.

She wondered how many times he’d been dissed, or ignored, by remarks and attitudes like those of her friends. She felt suddenly ashamed to have been part of that crowd.

They had called him ugly. But he wasn’t. It was true he didn’t stand out — no one would choose him as a model, or look at him twice in a hallway — but if you looked at him long enough, he did start to appear a bit cute.

After the final bell rang, she found Senthil approaching the office. “Senthil! I just wanted to say thank you for standing up for me.”

“That’s okay,” he said. But she noticed his confidence and stance had diminished again. His shoulders were once again hunched in, his eyes evasive, his voice quiet. “But we can’t work on the presentation now — I have detention.”

“Shit,” she replied. Then an idea occurred to her. “Why don’t you come over to my house after you’re done? I’ll wait for you.”

This would be safe enough. Her sister was away at university, and her parents wouldn’t be back from their jobs for a while.

He looked up at her, an expression of uncertainty on his face. She went on, “We could finish the research there. Then we have all week to get the presentation ready.” She was careful to avoid putting on the flirty tone she’d normally use.

“Let me ask my parents,” he replied. This took her aback — he was eighteen, wasn’t he? Why did he need permission? — but he had already dialed. She wondered if he’d switch to another language, but he stayed in his unaccented English. “Yes, it’s a girl. No, no, no, it’s not like that,” he was saying, casting embarrassed glances at her. “Okay.”

“All the notes are on my laptop,” he said, hesitantly handing it to her. “Don’t worry, I won’t look at your email,” she said reassuringly.

Kelly kept her word — almost. She did not look into Senthil’s files or email. But there was a point she wanted to make supported by a site they’d seen earlier, but she didn’t remember the address. She went to the browser history view to check—

She’d forgotten what an eye-opener it is to see a guy’s browser history. Senthil’s skill with web research wasn’t limited to matters academic. The school’s porn filter would block most of the pages, but the titles gave the story away.

Kelly was no stranger to porn — nearly all her boyfriends had been into porn, and she was not above watching it with them — but Senthil was in a different league. This wasn’t just hardcore, it was extreme. There were fetishes with unfamiliar names, whose meaning she could only guess. BDSM she thought she recognized, but what on earth was a ‘cat bath’? Or ‘watersports’? It probably wasn’t anything to do with swimming.

By teenage standards, Kelly counted herself very experienced sexually, but Senthil clearly had things to teach her.

She had always been into horny, passionate guys, but the drawback that was they were precisely the guys likely to be selfish, dishonest, or aggressive. Senthil’s politeness, integrity, and intelligence had already drawn her in, but knowing that that simple exterior masked powerful, even primeval hungers — the thought drove her wild. Girls ignore him, she thought. She could make his dreams come true! Surely he must have noticed her legs and her tits!

Kelly pulled off her usual tricks on the way home. Walking to the bus stop, she hurried ahead of Senthil, ostensibly to catch the bus if they were late, but really to make sure he got a good view of her bare legs, bare even in the relatively cool weather. On the bus, she sat in the narrowest seat she could find, almost guaranteeing her body would be squished against Senthil’s. She leaned right into him, so that her leg touched his from thigh to ankle, and some of her hair was on his shoulder.