If We Survive The Night

Intruder

Casey

I'm not sure if what I do now counts as sexting, but it sure counts as fun. It happens every other day, mostly in the evenings, when Andy starts sending me desperate texts begging for naked selfies.

I send him a photo of my toe, and he replies that it's not what he meant, and I tell him to send his photo first, and he sends me a snapshot of his knee, and I say he can do better, and he sends a naked pumped-up torso that's clearly not his. I go online and make a screenshot of the first photo of female breasts that I find, and send him, and he sends back a string of crying emojis.

It's not like I'm going to ever send him any actual nudes of myself, nor will I get his, but as a silly game, it's all good fun.

Andy is probably not the love of my life, but it's kind of reassuring, securing a boyfriend so quickly after moving here, someone to text to and joke and occasionally hook up with. The latter can only be done at his place, not mine. He still lives with his parents, too, but they're never home. Not that my father is all that present, but there are always other people in this house. My stepmom, Hazel the cook, Hewston the gardener, Jen and, occasionally, her friends.

There's also that cleaning boy. Gosh! The cleaning lady at my mother's place was all but invisible, but this guy is everywhere all the time. Or maybe I just tend to notice him more. After all, I'm more likely to pay attention to a fit young guy flashing his state-of-the-art muscles around the house rather than a nondescript old lady.

Anyway, he walked in on us that one time when I brough Andy here, so I don't take such risks anymore. If my father found out... well, let's say I would be living in a students' dorm and paying my own tuition. I probably wouldn't see Andy, too, because, socially, I would be out of his league then, and he pays attention to such things.

My phone buzzes as a new photo arrives—Andy's earlobe, piercing and all. I chuckle, and then look up from the phone to find my father standing in the doorway, watching me. I carefully morph my grin into a friendly, inquiring expression, resisting the instinct to hide the phone. He can't see what's on the screen, so as long as I don't act weird, it's going to be fine.

"Phone again?" He shakes his head.

"Uhm...yeah?" I say, trying to hold down my eye-rolling instinct.

"Why don't you do anything of use?"

"I'm reading," I say, all injured innocence. "A research paper, all right?"

"On what?"

"Global warming." I glance down at the phone where a string of kissing emojis arrives—Andy wishing me good night.

"You smiled. I didn't know global warming was a laughing matter."

"Oh, that was just..." I rack my brain. "A polar bear. A cub. I saw a cute polar bear cub picture, so I smiled." He looks unconvinced, so I switch from defense to attack. "Why're you even watching me?"

"I just keep waiting to see you apply yourself, for once. I hoped you'd turn out more serious than Jen."

"Come on," I say. "I'm eighteen. No one is serious at eighteen."

"Those who intend to get far in life, are." He eyes me for another moment, then shakes his head again and walks away. I hear his footsteps in the corridor, then down the stairs.

I blink, digesting this. Was this the reason why he let me move in? Is he watching me for signs that I'm serious, that maybe I could follow in his footsteps, and become his successor one day? He's never shown much interest in me in the past, but perhaps now that he's concluded that Jen is not serious enough, he's decided to give me a shot?