Passwords

You know you need to be quick, but you can't resist peeking into the private life of someone so withdrawn. Given the short timeframe, you go for what might have the biggest payoff.

You sit down, trying to control your breathing. You actually look over your shoulder as if someone might be watching you. Then you open Chrome.

You look in the corner and see a tiny pixelated picture of Rachel. She signed into Chrome! you rejoice. Three dots in the corner, settings, passwords.

There they are. Two more clicks, enter the generic school PIN, and boom: "Export Passwords."

Gotta be quick, you remind yourself. You quickly navigate to Gmail to email yourself the file, and, of course, you find yourself face-to-face with Rachel's inbox.

Not now, you tell yourself.

You write yourself an email. Attach the file. You're nearly salivating over what it might open up to you. You're actually getting hard.

Just as you're about to bolt, you throw yourself back into the chair. Idiot! you shout at yourself. You go into Rachel's Sent label and delete the email, then you head to her trash to get rid of any trace of your having been there.

And that's when you see it. In the trash, a message from "me" to "me." Subject: Too sexy?