Growing up, I never thought I’d develop a kink but then again who plans on having a specific fantasy? They just sort of happen, like “whoops I tripped and now my vagina drips when I’m a voyeur,” which is precisely what happened to me. It started in high school, back when I was not exactly shy but a relatively unnoticed teen. My nondescript hair color and oversized sci fi shirts relegated me to the no-second-glances category by anyone who wasn’t also openly into nerdy shit. My crush was a borderline nerd, who liked Star Wars but also played sports so I convinced myself I had a chance and went to ask him out when I knew he’d be alone.
After school he was always in the ceramic studio until practice started, which was the perfect spot for me to imagine us re-enacting the scene from Ghost. My pulse fluttered as I padded quietly down the long hallway to the art quadrant. Marching band was already outside warming up in the distance, the muffled horns added to the intimate feel of how alone we would be together. Looking back, that tinge of possibly being caught kissing by some random student coming back for their drum plays a bigger part in my fantasies today.