Crossed Wires

I'd tried hard to concentrate on our computer science lesson, but it was no use. I just had to message our Class Monitor because I was desperate to go to the bathroom. The Monitor sat with her back to me on the other side of the room, and the rest of us weren't even allowed to leave our chairs without her permission.

Really need a wee, please can I go? I typed clumsily and hit send.

The Monitor had deliberately chosen the prettiest and most feminine eye as her icon. Immediately it blinked back at me alongside my message. So she'd seen it! It was embarrassing having to ask her for permission for something like that.

I waited, impatiently. A snippet of the conversation our Monitor was having with the girl next to her drifted over the general chatter of the classroom and reached me.

"Should I wear panties?" she asked her neighbour seriously.

That made me fume! She'd seen my message, and I was squirming already from the need to wee! I couldn't resist, and furiously banged out another text: Seriously, I've really got to go!

Blink! That long-lashed eye regarded me again.

Come on, come on, I was thinking to myself desperately, not more than ten seconds later! Another interminable wait, and then her reply came back:

You've got to set an example for the smaller boys.

Ooh! She was infuriating. I squirmed in my seat. If I was so different to the smaller boys, how come I still had to ask the Monitor for permission?

What does that mean, wait all lesson? And I added an animation of a most discomfited face, to show her I didn't think it was possible.

Blink. Wait. Then:

It means you've got to do as I tell you.

Fuming, I did my best to turn back to my work, but every second I was in agony thanks to that smug girl who was loving this. She teased all us boys about how we had to wait, and I just knew this was part of the same thing, however good she was at acting all innocence!

I couldn't help it. It was excruciating to have to beg, but my need to go to the bathroom was more excruciating still.

Please, I implored her, and inserted several more of those animations.

Blink. Then nothing for two endless minutes, until I feared I just couldn't hold it in any longer.

Please, I'll wee myself.

Blink.

I was short of breath by now. I couldn't sit still in my seat. Every fibre of my being yearned for release.

Her reply finally flashed up, and only with a little gasp did I fight back my reaction:

Not yet.

A weak whimper escaped me though, and hot tears of helplessness squirted from my eyes before I could stop them. I wanted to hold it in for her, but I just couldn't!

She must have heard me, because then, at last:

Oh alright, if you're going to cry about it. Be quick.

I was one obedient classmate as far as that instruction was concerned, because I couldn't get out of the room fast enough! The boys' bathroom was bliss, although my shame and embarrassment at what that girl had knowingly put me through stayed a long time. Whose bright idea had it been to make her our Monitor in the first place?

When I made it back to my desk I cheered up a good deal more, because a girl I liked from another school had pinged me while I was out. Eagerly I messaged her back, asking her if she wanted to meet. I tried not to make it sound like I was begging a girl for the second time that day!

All she sent me back was a smirking face.

This was unbelievable, I thought with a kind of deep inner groan! You had to learn a secret language when you did this with girls. Pushing myself as close to the screen as my chair would allow I scrutinized the little face she'd sent, and noted its cheeks were blushing minutely. That was a promising sign, or at least it was one to get me excited anyway!

Attempting to communicate with her in a way she could relate to, I awkwardly and hurriedly threw together the phrase:

OMG my Monitor's being such a pain, made we wait ages to wee!

My favourite girl pinged back:

Don't blame her, I'd do that if I were your Monitor only you'd wait longer, and she added another smirk.

Slightly indignant I hammered back: I know one girl who's an even bigger tease than her, and added a pettish little flushed face.

My favourite girl replied:

Does she wear black knickers like mine, your Monitor's got cheesy white ones, I've seen.

This was getting me really excited now! I sent back: She’s soooooooooo cheesy!

Why R we talking about her? asked my favourite.

My underwear gave a sudden strain, and I winced a little. Maybe this was a bit too exciting! I pleaded: Don’t get me too hot, wearing new pants, way too tight!

Three giggly faces followed. I was in a daze over this girl! Then she asked:

OMG can I really go out like this, I mean no shower?

You so should, I almost panted back. Then sit next to boys on the bus and get them hot with your smell. Works for me, speaking of which, meet you later for naughty fun?

I knew the last part was repeating myself, but I wanted it so bad. Bad enough for these stupid underpants to be making me short of breath all over again! It seemed to be my day for wanting to strip the things off as speedily as possible. Somehow though my desire to read just a “Yes” from my favourite girl was managing to feel even more urgent than that!

Nevertheless, I so needed to ease my stiffness out of this intolerable elastic, it was starting to hurt. My Monitor wasn't going to be pleased at a repeat request to leave the room, but there wasn't anything for it - she'd never know this particular pain! I was halfway through pinging her, this time only pretending I needed the bathroom, when my favourite girl replied. Hers was the kind of “Yes” I’d definitely not been expecting:

How about naked netball?

It would have got any boy in a flurry, but I ended up in rather too much of one. Only after making my mistake did I realise. In my enthusiasm to reply to my favourite girl, I’d mixed up the two messages I had open and forwarded her original one to the Monitor!

There was just enough time for my heart to plunge into an icy swimming pool over what I’d stupidly done.

The pretty eye-icon blinked on my screen, right next to those four incriminating words. Somehow I feared this was one occasion when she wasn’t going to leave me waiting long for an answer! Sure enough, less than a minute after those long electronic lashes flicked, the dreaded message came.

That does it! How dare you send me inappropriate invitations like that? And what do you think your girlfriend would say? Well, here’s something you weren’t counting on – I accept your challenge. Once you’ve found out what naked netball with me’s really like, you’ll think twice about suggesting it. Don’t bother trying to back out because I’ve already saved this screen as evidence.

There was nothing for me to do but groan inside. I’d not been looking forward to afternoon gym as it was, but now I had a whole new reason to be scared!

Only a girl could have looked as cool and calm and confident with nothing on as our Monitor did – not to mention so desirable she made me weak! And only a boy could have looked as silly and pink and embarrassed as I did. Undressed like this, there was just no hiding the fact they were better designed for PE than we were. Her nakedness, all smooth and streamlined without any annoying bits between her legs to get in the way while she was playing, absolutely shamed me and my body. And that was before we’d even started the game!

Once we did, I found it was a hundred times more difficult for me without any gym kit on. What made it worse was that our Monitor was the sort of girl who’d tease and go on teasing when she knew she had an unfair advantage. After that, I was very grateful when it turned out my favourite girl hadn’t been serious about playing me that way. Two naked netball games in one day would have been more annoyance than my poor bare bounceables could have stood!

THE END