Shauna should feel guilty about this.

Lurking in her car outside your street, camera in hand—watching you change? Yeah, way to be a creep, Shipman. But it's not like she's about to grow a conscience now; not with the snaps she took on the weekend already developing—and especially not with your window all the way open like that.

You're practically asking for it.

She feels her heart leap when you she sees you wander into view, all carefree and oblivious as you stretch in the light, reaching for your blouse buttons. God, ever since you cheered for her during her first football game as a senior; she's adored you, just like how everyone else adores you—how all the boys want you and all the girls want to be you.

Shauna's different though. She will be different. And if it takes trailing after you after-school to find out what you like, what your favourite spots are, how you look without a top—whose to blame her?