He sees a post from Lacey

John’s thumb froze mid-scroll. Lacey’s latest post filled his cracked screen—a mirror selfie in the girls’ locker room, her perky tits barely contained in a neon-green bikini top two sizes too small. The caption read “Who’s dick tastes like daddy’s? #SeniorSlut”. Sarah’s knee dug harder into his ribs as she leaned over, her sports bra riding up.

“Ew, Lacey’s such a skank,” Sarah muttered, her breath hot against John’s neck. She flicked the screen with a chipped nail. “Saw her blowing Coach Wilson behind the bleachers last week. Dude’s got a wedding ring tan line.”

Megan snorted, jerking the wheel to avoid a pothole. Her tits jiggled where her phone was wedged. “Please, she fucked the entire O-line for a fucking C in health class.” The car reeked of her vanilla vape juice and Sarah’s coconut shampoo.

John’s dick twitched in his crusty jeans. Lacey’s tongue was out in the next pic, glossy with spit, her manicured fingers tugging down the bikini bottom to show a strip of bleached blonde hair.

The Civic screeched into the school parking lot, Megan's bumper kissing the concrete divider as she wedged the car between Jamal's lifted truck and some freshman's dented Corolla. John's forehead smacked the passenger seat when she braked hard, his nose filling with the stench of burnt rubber and Sarah's peach body spray.

"Move your scrawny ass," Megan hissed, shoving her door open so hard it nearly took out Lacey Ross's little sister—some mousy sophomore in too much eyeliner scrambling out of the way. Megan's platform sandals clacked against the asphalt, her tiny skirt riding up to show the lace edge of her thong as she strutted toward Jamal's crew loitering by the gym doors.

Sarah rolled her eyes, stretching her long legs out of the backseat. Her running shorts hiked up, showing the sweat-slick crease where her thigh met her ass. "She's such a fucking disaster," she muttered, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. The strap dug into her sports bra, making her tits look even perkier under the thin fabric.

John fumbled with his phone, his cracked screen reflecting Lacey's neon bikini pic again. His dick throbbed against his zipper, the denim rough where precum was already soaking through.

"Yo, virgin!"