i. her name was claire. she was seventeen, the bassist for a band he had never heard of and, for some reason completely unknown to asher, she was infatuated with him. she was the first girl who ever sent him a text message containing anything other than the usual “what’s up” or “want to chill”. he was in the book shoppe, sorting through a new shipment of the latest teen obsession witches in wisconsin, when a double ding signaled a message to his phone. a picture, taken with very cleverly positioned shadows, and an accompanying message of “more where that came from, ;) your turn.” he could feel his neck getting red but he shoved the books onto the nearest shelf and ducked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. a few minutes passed, a couple of tasteful nudes shot, and one overwhelming feeling. he never sent the photograph.

ii. she was small in stature but had a very large personality. she introduced herself to asher as ida. late one night, a beeping sang from his phone across the room, he pushed his laptop from his lap and opened up the brunette girls latest message, nearly dropping his phone as he caught a glance of the picture she sent. “missing you, x” followed by “show me how much you miss me, ash” she was all legs and silky sheets and he was a teenage boy. he pulled off his shirt and prepared himself...mentally. but, ultimately, talked himself out of sending her anything. 

iii. tanya was smart, funny and had a devilish grin. they had a few dates, shared a few very heated snogs, and a bowl of triple ripple fudge brownie ice cream before she sent him a string of photographs that always seemed to come around this time in a relationship. they were tasteful, never showing her face or reflection, and always asking for a reply. he just couldn’t. 

iv. the last short fling of the summer had fair skin and dark hair, a smile that could light an entire night sky and a love for books that almost rivaled his own. connie. connie never sent him any photos, but two a.m. would roll around and she would always say the same thing, “i want you, so bad. do you want me?” asher never knew how to reply, he knew how his mate tommy would answer her. send her the d, chicks dig it. but that seemed so absurd, why would he send a photo of that to a girl? it wasn’t that he hadn’t taken the pictures, just in case, he’d just never had enough nerve to actually use them.