What else? Texts, phone calls, social media -- teenagers, am I right?

You walked into the house, following Shelly. Her hips were moving back and forth almost hypnotically -- it didn't help that she was in a stunningly short cotton skirt that flared in each direction those hips moved. It really didn't help that you knew the only thing under that skirt was Shelly.

"Kids?" your stepmother called out.

"Yeah, it's us," Shelly shouted back.

"Us? As in two of you? As in your brother might actually have come home instead of spending another night in some kind of tutoring session?" Your stepmother sounded cheerful. But then, Glynda Doe was pretty awesome. When your father was finally dumped by the horror show that was your and Shelly's actual biological mother, the house had been pretty miserable for a long time. How he snagged the beautiful and vivacious Glynda was anyone's guess. You and Shelly had been worried she'd be even worse than the bitch who donated half your DNA, but as it turned out Glynda was amazing. Not only cool, but firm when she needed to be. Right when neither of you had expected anything like a happy, normal life, here was Glynda, stepping up to be a mother and friend. And these days, with Dad essentially never around and 'lose-my-fucking-number-Mom' completely cut out of their lives, Glynda was what made their home just that. A home.

She met you two in the living room. She was wearing her sport bra and yoga shorts. She was fortyish, but looked under thirty, easily -- and though her breasts weren't anywhere near as large as Shelly's, they were beautifully formed. Even the compression of the sport bra didn't hide just how womanly she was. Natural, dirty blonde hair and large green eyes just added to that. You'd been pretty proud when Glynda had started showing up to different school functions as your legal guardian. Not that you had a legal guardian any more, having just passed 18.

It was interesting. Glynda and Shelly weren't related, but they were both shapely blondes. Shelly had blue eyes to Glynda's green eyes, and Shelly's hair was paler blonde. Shelly was also taller -- one of the tallest girls you knew, actually. Like a model -- and her breasts were bigger as we said before. And will say again. Because they were very, very nice breasts.

Thinking about it, the two women didn't look much alike at all, but at this point you'd swear you saw a resemblance. That's how much Glynda had meant to you and Shelly.

What was probably the most fucked up about all of that? Was your incestuous carryings on with Shelly felt more and more natural, but fucking Glynda would be weird. Though with her submissive **** fetish she'd certainly be interestin--

You blinked. There it was again. It didn't happen as often as it did a few days back, but that sudden weird sense you knew peoples' fetishes. But that was crazy.

Well... okay. You'd been right about Shelly's oral sex fetish. And Bella's romantic seduction fetish. And Tiffany's exhibitionist fetish seemed pretty confi--

No, that was just crazy.

"So how was your stayovers with Miss Cardigan?" Glynda asked, smiling as she ruffled your hair. It was weird, since you were eighteen and all, but you liked it. "Did you get caught up?"

"Well -- yeah," you said. "But... Miss Cardigan says I should knuckle down. She thinks that with enough extra credit I could ace the course. I'm going to go over there in a bit and--"

"You certainly are not going to go over there, tonight," Glynda said, laughing. "You're going to spend at least one night this week with your family. One man in this family's already essentially never here. I'm not going to let that become two men."

Shelly laughed. "She's right, John. You're stuck with it."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, okay. I get it. I just... have to text her to let her know."

You pulled out your phone and tapped for a bit, getting a message out to the 'school text number' for Miss B. Cardigan. "JD - I'm sorry, ms. c. mom wants me to stay home tonite. i don't think i can get over there for tutoring."

There was a long delay in the reply. "BC - Of course, John. I completely understand. In the future, however, please remember that electronic or not, you're writing actual sentences on your phone. Please stay in the habit of properly capitalizing and punctuating your sentences, and make certain you spell your words correctly."

You flushed. You figured she might be upset, but that just kind of hurt. Still, you diligently type a response. "JD - Of course, Ms. Cardigan. I'm sorry." You double checked the grammar and sent it off.

"BC - That's all right. I quite understand. One thing - I had expected you to be here tonight, and had made arrangements for another pupil to be on hand, as I thought the two of you would be able to help each other. Since you cannot be here, I will simply have to have her call you. Please let your mother know and make certain that will be all right."

You blinked again. What? She... what was she talking about? You reread the sentence, and then looked at Glynda. "Um -- Miss Cardigan says she'll need me to talk to a student on the phone for a while."

"What's that?" Glynda asked. "Let me see that." She took your phone and read the message. "Oh. Of course. Please tell her that will be fine. I didn't mean to disrupt anyone else's education, much less your own."

"Thanks." You smiled a bit. "I'm gonna head up to my room."

"Sure -- dinner in a little bit!"

You heard Shelly and Glynda talking. "Shel... are... are you even wearing panties?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, probably a pretty obvious one."

"Well if you care that much, maybe all I'll wear tonight is panties--"

You shut your door. You were pretty happy with your experiences with Shelly, but she could still be a brat when she wanted to be. "JD - She's fine with your student calling me."

"BC - Good. Please be prepared for the call."

You wanted to ask what was going on, but you didn't know how.

Your phone rang. The number had... a 212 area code? You'd seen that on TV. That... that was New York? That was literally on the other side of the country. Of course, cell phones could go anywhere.

You tapped the green icon. "Hello?"

"God," a lush female voice purred into your ear. "Parents. Aren't they the worst? And that stupid Miss C. making us do this. It's terrible."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Bella?" you whispered.

"Of course, silly," she said, giggling. "Sooner or later you're going to figure out that 'angry and stern Miss Cardigan' is always an act when it comes to you. If I'm actually mad at you for some reason? I promise you'll know it. Though I don't know why I would be." She giggled again.

"How... how did you get a New York telephone number?"

"It's a burner phone number off a VoIP site. You can text it, but don't use my name. And if you leave messages, be circumspect. You know. At least until graduation. After that... well, whatever time I get with you can at least be a little less guarded."

"What do you mean 'whatever time you get with me.' I love you, Bella -- I'm not going to disappear."

There was a sound, almost like cooing. "I love hearing you say that," she said. "But you're eighteen. You literally have your life ahead of you. I don't expect you to spend it here. Of course you'll always love me. But you're going to see so many things and meet so many people..." she giggled. "And fuck so many girls... It's all right. I know you'll always love me, even if it's just in memory. And I know..."

"...know what?"

"I know I'll always be your first." She giggled yet again -- a slow, sensuous giggle.

"That... is really true."

"So," she said, languidly. "You're burning up social media tonight, aren't you? You and 'there's nothing between me and Tiffany.'"

"...Bella... we're running a scam on Zeke. To make him jealous. That's all. We haven't had sex and--"

"John?"

"...yes?"

"You were running a scam on Zeke. Whatever you and Tiffany are doing now? Zeke has very little to do with it."

You felt a cold chill. "What do you mean?"

"John... I am on the faculty. I was able to find out a few things. Like the fact they found Tiffany Brian **** on the roof, her lower clothing soaked. And... not with water."

"...Bella... Bella we didn't--"

"Have sex. I know." She paused for emphasis. "I know. The nurse was largely able to confirm Tiffany's account as she told it, and they submitted a **** kit for analysis. Forensics is quite certain Miss Brian did not have sex with anyone. Which didn't mean she wasn't mastrubating so intensely that she chafed her labia, which she was and she did. And which she admitted to." She paused. "Which is smart, since the security camera on the roof saw the whole thing."

You blinked. "Security... camera...?"

"Oh please, John. It's a high school and the roof has an accessible door. Do you honestly believe the administration hasn't figured out that maybe -- just maybe -- teenagers go up there to fuck? Or that we don't know far more than we admit to knowing? We know you went up there with her. We know you had... I suppose you'd call it lunch? We know she took a lot of pictures and you talked for a while. And we know you left and she immediately began fucking herself like a jackhammer. I don't believe for a second she was moaning Zeke's name while she did it!"

You just stared forward. "...I don't understand," you said, finally.

"From what she said to the nurse, you're... someone that meant quite a lot to her in middle school. Though she said you forgot you two ever knew each other, which frankly makes me wonder what the real story was, since I know you well enough to know you wouldn't just forget a close friend."

"...I had a crush on her. But we maybe said six words to each other and long before I could have said anything to her, she was dating Zeke and that was that. Honest."

"I believe you. John?"

"...yeah?"

"I'm on your side. Remember that." Bella's voice dropped a bit. "If they fire me for fraternization or run me out of town on a rail, I will still be on your side. If they run you out of town on a rail, I will follow you. If you ever need help, or money, or companionship, or a pussy to cum in? I will be that for you. I love you. I love you with a fire that inspires the heavens, and a loyalty that is unshakable as steel. Never doubt that. Never doubt me. Whatever is going on with you and Tiffany? I love you and I am on your side."

You blinked yet again. Blinking was really your forte. "...Bella," you said, voice shaking a bit. "I... I love you."

"I know. But now, you should probably go check the internet and spend time with your family. I will sit here and read a book." She paused. "In a rose colored lace teddy and stockings, my hair piled high upon my head, my legs crossed to hide the hint of moisture that has collected between them during this phone call. My hand, quite on its own accord, will slide up my stomach and the lace -- so tight it may as well be painted on me -- and find my breast and my nipple, and my other hand will finally lose hold of the book and good night, John."

There was a click. The call was over.

Holy fuck that was hot.

You thought about rubbing one out, or even calling Shelly in to deal with your 'issue' with her mouth, but... Bella had mentioned social media and the internet. Time to check out what was happening at this point. Especially when--

Tiffany jilled herself **** on the roof? Over you?

You took a breath. She couldn't know you knew that. But... you'd almost forgotten your relationship was fake, more than once...

...clearly you weren't the only one.

You looked at your phone, and then sent a fast text message. "JD - hey tiff. How feeling? you okay? Just want to make sure, okay?"

You grabbed your laptop -- easier to scroll through it -- and checked Facebook, opening her page--

Your phone pinged. You looked. "TB - tired and a little weird. they put me on fluids."

You stared. "JD - are you in the HOSPITAL?"

You waited the long seconds for a reply.

"TB - yah. no worries. already being sent home. they wanted to make sure I wasn't dehydrated or on **** and I wasn't. they wanted to keep me overnight but $$$ and my folks"

Her folks... what?

"JD - ayt?"

"TB - yah. sorry. my folks don't spend money on me if they don' have to. kinda what zeke was for. he always got me stuff."

You stare at the text. Slowly, you typed. You don't know why you typed what you did. You just did.

"JD - well, i dont care if you have a lot of stuff. i care about you."

Nothing.

You looked at Facebook. There was a post of her in the hospital, grinning and selfieing as always. "HEY!" she'd written. "So you all heard I took a nap on the roof! Turned out it was prob. an infection and dehydration. John took great care of me and all my love to the nurses at our school THEY ARE THE BOMB!"

You stared at it for a long moment. "John took great care of me?"

You hadn't. You'd left her up there alone and then she...

You checked the next message up. "Check out my Instagram for the date so great I had to sleep it off! Hearing a lot of rumors flyin' around but you all know me! John is a perfect gentleman and the best, so no trash talk! Bsides, you all know nothing happened, right?!" Wink emoji. Grinning Devil Heart emoji. Eggplant emoji. Double exclamation point emoji.

"...well that won't help at all," you murmured, and checked the comments. They were full. Lots of "DAAAAAAYM"s and "Oh that's our BOY!" from people you honestly thought you'f never spoken to even once in your life. "He better treat you right!" showed up here and there. It looked like something off of TMZ.

And near the bottom? "Hey - just glad yr okay." From Zeke. "You know where I am."

Below that? From Tiffany?

"Yah. You know where I'm not. Thanks for the HS years, guy."

...was that real or was she upping the pressure. You no longer had any idea.

You frowned, clicking through to Instagram. There you two were, all right. Everything laid out to tell a story that had essentially nothing to do with the actual time you both spent on the roof. You had to admit, she was working hard to make you look good -- like, not just 'check out my boyfriend' good, but actually...

...no, that was crazy.

You idly scrolled down her feed to older posts. Cheerleading. Bikini cartwheels on the beach. Lots with her and Zeke and her and the squad doing things. Beauty tips. Links to her beauty Youtube tutorials. All very carefully crafted and as near as you could tell not the real Tiffany Brian at all.

You paused then. Something about... the real... Tiffany Brian?

You shook her head. Weird. You glanced back at the feed--

You were about to close it, but there was one picture... it was Tiffany, of course. In a tight t-shirt in her room, leaning forward and pulling her hair in either direction, showing the brunette roots. "TIME FOR A TOUCH UP!" she'd written.

You looked at the roots for a moment. They were really more of a warm brown. You remembered that, then. From middle school. She always had that brown slightly curly hair.

For half a moment, you almost imagined her like that today, but with straight brown hair instead of curly. She'd... she'd look pretty amazing. The blonde hair was kind of a mistake.

But then, she had an image, you supposed.

"John! Dinner!"

"'Kay!" you shouted back down.