Chapter 1: The Naked Trap (Part 1)

Got your stuff! Come find me in the parking lot. Don't keep me waiting! --- J

Jenna.

Oh my god. Oh my god, she didn't.

Chloe laughed---this shaky, nervous sound that echoed off the lockers. A prank. Jenna and her stupid pranks. Last month she'd put a fake spider in Maya's gym bag and Maya had screamed so loud the boys' basketball coach came running from the other side of the gym. This was just... this was worse. This was way worse.

She checked the other lockers anyway. Maybe Jenna had moved her stuff. Maybe this was just the first part of the joke and her clothes were in locker 18, or 16, or---

Nothing. All the lockers were empty or locked. She checked the hooks by the showers. Nothing. Under the benches. Nothing. The whole locker room was just... nothing.

Okay. Think. What do I do?

She could wait. Just sit here on the bench until someone came looking for her. But it was Friday night, after six, and the school was basically empty. Nobody was coming. Her parents expected her home by seven-thirty, and if she wasn't there her mom would call, and when she didn't answer---

Shit. My phone. My phone is in my backpack. Which Jenna has.

She could yell for help. But then someone would find her like this---naked, wet, standing in an empty locker room---and she'd have to explain, and the explanation was "my friend stole all my clothes as a joke," which sounded insane. Or she could go find Jenna. The parking lot wasn't that far. Out the side door, across the bus lane, and she'd be there. The school was empty. It was Friday night. Nobody was here.

Just go. Just go fast and get your clothes and then kill Jenna. Simple.

She pushed the locker room door open and stepped into the corridor.

The hallway was dim---every other light was off, this stupid energy-saving thing the school did after hours. Pools of yellow light and then long stretches of shadow. The floor was that weird speckled linoleum they put in every school everywhere, cold under her bare feet. Somewhere a heater was humming, this low drone that made the silence feel even bigger.

Chloe wrapped her left arm across her chest and pressed her right hand between her legs. It didn't really cover anything---her boobs squished up over her forearm, and her hand barely hid anything down there---but she couldn't just... walk. Not like this. Not with everything just... out.

God, I hate this. I hate her. I'm going to kill her.

She walked fast. Past the gym, the double doors dark and the basketball hoops folded up against the ceiling. Past the science wing---she could smell that weird chemical smell from the chem lab, like vinegar and something else. Her feet made these soft slapping sounds on the floor, way too loud in the quiet.

The side door was ahead, the one that led out to the bus lane. Red EXIT sign glowing above it. She pushed the bar and stepped outside.

The air hit her like a wall. Cold. Way colder than she'd expected. The sun was going down, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink, and the temperature had dropped with it. Goosebumps erupted all over her body---her arms, her thighs, her stomach. Her nipples tightened painfully, and she could feel them puckering against her forearm.

Shit. It's freezing. Where is she?

The parking lot stretched out in front of her, mostly empty. A few cars still scattered around---teachers working late, maybe, or janitorial staff. The streetlights were just starting to flicker on, casting pools of yellow light on the asphalt. No sign of Jenna.

Chloe stepped off the concrete and onto the asphalt. It was rough under her bare feet, cold and gritty. Little pebbles dug into her soles. She kept her left arm clamped across her chest and her right hand pressed between her legs, hunching forward, trying to be as small as possible.

"Jenna?" Her voice came out as a whisper. Too quiet. She tried again. "Jenna! This isn't funny anymore!"

Nothing. Just the wind and the distant sound of traffic on the main road.

Where is she? She said the parking lot. Did she leave? Did she take my stuff and just---

"Hey!"

The voice came from behind her. Loud. Sharp. Not Jenna.

Chloe spun around. Mr. Hannigan---the security guard, the one with the gray mustache who always yelled at kids for running in the halls---was standing at the side door she'd just come through. His flashlight beam cut across the asphalt and swept up her body, catching her chest, her stomach, her legs before he jerked it away like he'd been burned.

"What in the---" His face went bright red. He stared at the sky, the ground, the wall, anywhere but at her. "Miss Bennett? Is that---what are you doing out here?"

"I---" Her voice came out as this tiny croak. She was still holding herself, arms clamped tight, and the flashlight had felt like---like something physical. Like he'd touched her. "I was just---"

"Stay right there." He was fumbling with the radio on his belt, his hands shaking. "Don't move. I'm calling this in."

Calling this in? Calling who? The principal? Oh god, the principal is going to see me like this---

He raised the radio to his mouth. "Dispatch, this is Hannigan at the high school. I've got a situation here. Female student, completely naked, in the parking lot. Looks like streaking. I need police assistance."

Police. He called the police.

Chloe's legs went weak. The word echoed in her head---police, police, police---and suddenly the cold didn't matter anymore. The rough asphalt under her feet didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the fact that the police were coming and she was standing in the school parking lot completely naked and she had no idea what was going to happen to her.

"Mr. Hannigan, please---" She took a step toward him, and he took a step back, his hand going up like she was a wild animal.

"Stay where you are, Miss Bennett. Don't come any closer."

She stopped. The asphalt was cold under her feet. The wind was cold on her bare skin. She was shaking---from the cold, from the fear, from everything. Her teeth were starting to chatter.

He walked toward her, his steps slow and cautious. "I need you to stay right here. The police will be here in a few minutes."

"The police---" Her voice cracked. "Why did you call the police?"

"You're outside, on school property, completely undressed. That's a violation of school policy and---" He paused, his jaw tight. "And possibly more than that. I don't have a choice."

He reached out and took her arm---not hard, but firm, his fingers wrapping around her bicep. His hand was warm against her cold skin, and the contact made her flinch.

"Just stay here. Don't try to run."

Run? Where would I run? I'm naked. I don't have shoes. I don't have anything.

She stood there in the parking lot, the security guard's hand on her arm, the wind cutting through her like knives. Her hair blew across her face, across her shoulders. Her nipples were so tight they ached. She could feel every pair of eyes that might be watching from the dark windows of the houses across the street.

This isn't happening. This isn't real. I'm going to wake up in my bed and this is all going to be a nightmare.

But she didn't wake up. The cold was real. The rough asphalt under her feet was real. The security guard's grip on her arm was very, very real.