The anime porn wasn’t doing it for me. My cock wasn’t cooperating. I closed my laptop and leaned back in my chair. It was time for my pre-work jerk, but I couldn’t seem to get my usual mojo going.

The problem wasn’t the overdrawn tits or the odd Asian words pouring from the pouty lips as the cartoon girl was reamed from behind. It was Camille. Her messages had been so cold ever since she’d left. And when she hadn’t returned my “I love you,” it stung.

I rose and walked to the wide windows looking out on the city. What was her deal? I inspected my reflection in the glass. Flexing my bicep, I posed and turned to get a look at my profile. I still had it. Hell, women hit on me all the time. But they weren’t Camille, so I didn’t bother with them except for the few times I’d accepted a blow job. Those didn’t count. Not really.

My phone beeped. I returned to my desk and picked it up, hoping for a sext from Camille. Instead, it was a message from an unknown number.

“What the hell?”

Hi Link, this is Mint Baxter, a student of Ms. Briarlane’s. I know this is going to sound weird, but have you spoken to her since she left?

Why is some little shit from her class texting me? I hit the button to call the number.

It rang once before he picked up.

“Link?”

“Yeah, why are you texting me?” I hit the speaker button and dropped to the floor to do some pushups. “And how’d you get this number?”

“My Uncle Hal works with you. He left his phone here after he came to”—he coughed—“visit this weekend. Anyway, I, um, I’m sorry about this, but have you talked to Ms. Briarlane since she left?”

“No. She doesn’t have voice service where she is.” I squeezed my back muscles with each push away from the floor. This horny teen didn’t have a chance with Camille, if that was what he was after.

“I know, but she texted me and it seemed sort of…off. Did you take her to the airport?”

“Look, kid. She’s fine. She’s been texting me. I saw her get into the car that was taking her to the airport.”

“Okay. That makes me feel a little better I guess.”

I rolled my eyes. Like I cared how this pipsqueak felt. “Great. I have some important stuff to do today, so if that’s all…” My biceps began to get the good burn going.

“So her texts to you have been normal?” His voice still carried uncertainty.

“Yeah.” I pushed up and held it. Come to think of it, she’d been colder than usual. Sort of brushing me off? I shook my head. Not possible. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Yeah, what did she text to you?” I tucked one hand behind my back and began one-handing it, pushing my breath through my teeth with each lift.

“She was sort of, I don’t know, abrupt.”

“What were you texting her?” Better not be dick pics.

“I just had a homework issue I wanted to talk about. Nothing big.” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Right.” I switched hands. “Look, she’s my girl, okay? Whatever little crush you may have on her, forget about it. Your horny teenage dick will never get anywhere near her. You got it?”

He groaned. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Unless you have something to tell me other than ‘my teen hormones are raging and I want to dick down with your girl, but she isn’t responding favorably to my texts,’ this conversation is done.” She wouldn’t even dick down with me. This kid didn’t have a fucking chance.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” His tone took on a sharp edge, and for a moment he sounded more man than boy.

I dropped to my elbows and planked. “Dude, she’s mine. I’ll say what I want.”

“I can’t believe she’s dating you. Look, asshole, she sent me a text earlier today. I’m screenshotting it and sending it to you.”

“Better not be a dick shot.” I tapped on the message and a text thread appeared—the kid bellyaching about his family and Camille blowing him off.

“Do you see the important part?”

I stared at the screen. “Nothing’s jumping out at me.”

Mint Baxter: Did I do something wrong?

Camille Briarlane: No. I’m busy researching Epipogium Aphyllum. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I’ll have much cell service for the rest of the trip. We’ll talk when I return.

“Look at how she capitalized Aphyllum.”

“Okay. So?” I rolled to my back on the cool wood floor and began doing crunches.

“Seriously, you’re her guy? You?”

“Kid, you’re pissing me off. Get to the fucking point. And for the record, I’m a great guy.”

“Ms. Briarlane would never capitalize the species name in a binomial classification.”

“Come again?” I lost count of my crunches but kept on doing them.

“During our very first week in her class, she gave a lecture on the proper way to classify living things. The first word is the genus. The second is the species. The species is never capitalized. She would never make a mistake like that.”

“Have you heard of autocorrect?” My abs burned. I wondered if the kid had a point. Camille was super into the science of things, especially when it came to plants.

“What is wrong with you?” His voice rose. “It wasn’t her. Couldn’t be. She’d never do that. And her texts haven’t even felt like her.”

I paused and dropped the back of my head to the floor. “Her texts to me have been sort of weird, too.” The Christmas thing, where she’d practically said she was having a ball without me—that couldn’t possibly be true.

“See?” He crowed with triumph. “Who are her other friends? Will you ask them if she’s been in contact?”

“Yeah, I’ll text Veronica. But don’t get too excited just yet. I’m sure she’s trying to adjust to the new environment.”

“I’m not excited. I’m worried.”

“You’re too young to worry.” I sat up and swiped my phone off the floor. “I’ll make some calls.”

“Please text me back if you find out anything.”

“Sure thing.” I clicked off the call and opened a text window.

Link: Hey Veronica, you heard from our girl?

The three dots bopped along.

Veronica: She’s my girl and yeah.

Link: She sound weird to you?

Veronica: Um, her responses were sort of short, I guess, but nothing weird in them. Why?

Link: I was just checking. Her responses have been short to me, too.

Veronica: She’s on a grand adventure. Probably doesn’t have time for us when there are plenty of muscly, half-naked natives there to help her out.

Link: Nevermind.

Veronica: Don’t worry. She can take care of herself.

I wanted to let it go at that, but a nagging feeling still ate at me. Camille had left a number for the leader of the expedition. I’d call him up—right after I finished my morning wank.