Make a deal

"Okay, tell you what," Madison says. It sounds to you like she's trying to keep cool, to salvage what influence she can and emerge with some remnant of her leadership status. "I could tell that you guessed his security code, and you must have found something juicy on there. You share it with all of us, and you can keep the phone."

This is it, you say to yourself. You were afraid it was going to come to this. There's so much to be discovered on your phone. Your search history, including all your favorite porn sites. Your texts to your friends about which of these very girls you'd like to stick your dick in. Your email, which just now happens to have an attachment with all of Rachel's passwords included.

But you figure that the lowest-hanging fruit (no pun intended) will be your pictures, where you've spent more than one evening playing that stupid game where you measure your hard penis against various household items. Which picture would she send them? you wonder. My cock on top of my math book, next to my old clarinet, or inside a whole wheat hot dog bun?

You can see Rachel considering her options. As far as you can tell, if she doesn't agree, Madison keeps your phone. Which you and Rachel both know she'll be able to break into in five more minutes of trying. Seems like a lose-lose situation, with you on the losing end.

"All right," Rachel says. "I'll do it."

"Sweet," Madison says, appearing relieved that something has gone her way. "Be quick, though. I want to bring Rebecca's clothes to the front hall myself."

Madison hands your phone to Rachel, who looks down at the device. Will she do it?