Just get going

There's no time to bother with underwear - it's all probably buried in the heaps of unsorted laundry spread across your bedroom anyway, and you're going to be late enough as it is. It's not the first time you've gone commando and you don't really like doing it, but **** times... You just hope that today you don't run into that creep Milton who's always trying to peek up your skirt.

You look around the room for an outfit to wear today and spot the same shirt you'd been wearing last night - a loose fitting, sleeveless white tank top, very comfortable and soft. It hangs a little over your still-growing 38C bust, but you sort of like that, it feels breezy. Clumsily pulling it over your head, you've already sighted the next piece of your wardrobe, and step quickly into the pleated red miniskirt, tugging it up your smooth legs. It reaches to mid-thigh and sways a little with every movement; your friends tease you sometimes about wearing such revealing clothes, but you love feeling unrestricted, and loose clothing is all you own. You're a little more unrestricted today than usual, you realize, but it's no big deal, right?

A quick glance in the mirror over your desk and you see yourself. Long blonde hair a little bedraggled, green eyes glazed with sleepiness but otherwise alert, curvy body covered just enough to be decent without restricting your comfort. You hesitate a moment as you catch a glimpse of just how much sideboob the shirt is displaying, but you've already made your decision, and time's wasting. You snatch your phone up from the nightstand and head downstairs, where your father is waiting by the front door holding your backpack out.

"Slept in again? They're gonna put you in detention if you keep this up, Ispiria," he says, his eyes disapproving, as usual, while he takes in your outfit. "Senior year or not, you've been spoken to about this before."

You sigh heavily as you grab your backpack from him. It's true that you've been in the principal's office for tardiness a few times this year, but you don't really care... a few months from now and you'll be done with highschool anyway. Your father gives you a quick kiss on top of the head as you slide your sneakers on and you're out the door, heading at a speedy walk towards the subway station.