It just barely reaches into the bathroom. Hunching down next to the laundry basket, I ask “Is your dick out?” There’s a shuffling noise, then Teddy says he’s rubbing his hard-on against the phone. He thinks he might be able to sneak out tonight. I say my mom is sleeping in the living room, plus it’s a school night. The blue flicker of the TV seeps underneath the bathroom door. A generic sound that could be applause or static hisses in the night. I pull the phone cord tighter to edge away from the sound.

Teddy tells me to rub my boobs on the phone, but instead I rub my hand back and forth across the mouthpiece. He asks if my nipples are hard. Suddenly, I notice the absence of the flickering light and the static. The couch springs creak as they sag heavy. “Hang on,” I whisper to Teddy. Opening the door slowly, I wait a moment, then pull it shut again.

“Say something to make me horny,” he says. I think for a moment, then tell him I’m touching my pussy, even though I’m not. Teddy’s breath crackles in my ear, he wishes I was there. I wonder aloud if a warm wet washcloth would feel like a pussy. He says he’ll try it. The phone crashes down, he fumbles for a minute before he picks back up.

I tell him that I want to suck his dick, like I did last weekend. He falls into a rhythm fast, breathing in short gasps.  The couch creaks again, but I ignore it. I tell him I want to go to the gravel pits again, that I want to ride him in the backseat this time. Teddy grunts.

The faint snap of a light clicks on somewhere in the house. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” I squeak, cupping my hand over the phone. “What?” Teddy answers sluggishly. A floorboard groans overhead. “Come, goddammit,” I plead, “come!” A door scrapes against carpet. Teddy’s breath quickens.

I ease open the bathroom door. “Come on,” I hiss into the phone. The couch springs squeak sharply. Teddy exhales deeply, lets out a low groan of relief. “Gotta go,” I say and gently hang up the phone. I hurry to the sink and fill up a glass of water. My little sister appears in the doorway. I hand her the glass seconds before my mother comes in. She glares at the both of us, turns around, shuffles back towards the couch.

The next afternoon, I wait for Teddy by his locker. He walks down the hall slowly and slightly bowlegged, wearing sweatpants instead of his usual tight jeans. A guy from the football team slaps his back, asks if he’s got blue balls. Teddy grimaces, tells me that the washcloth wasn’t a good idea after all. Pulling the waistband out, I peek down, his dick blushes an angry raw red.  He won’t be able to jerk off for the entire next week.