My friend

"Hello? Is anyone here?" a familiar voice echoed through the locker room.

A sob of relief escaped me. It was Clara.

"Clara!" I whispered from my hiding place, my voice cracking with fear. "Clara, please help me. I'm back here, in the showers."

I heard the rapid, unmistakable click-clack of her heels against the ceramic floor of the locker room. Clara always defied the faculty rules by combining the strict regulation uniform with high heels that enhanced her stride. The echo of her footsteps stopped right at the entrance of the hallway leading to the stalls. Before she could take another step toward the wet area, I panicked:

"No! Don't come in! Don't look at me, please... don't come near the showers."

"What's wrong? You're scaring me," Clara said.

She stopped right at the threshold, just at the edge of my field of vision. From the dimness of my stall, with my back pressed against the cold tiles, I could just make her out through the floating steam and the partition. Unlike me, since I always tried to bury myself in baggy clothes, the university uniform fit Clara like a glove. The tailored skirt perfectly accentuated her curves. She had always had a smaller bust than I did—something I used to envy, wishing for her discretion—but she made up for it with a tiny waist that gave way to a spectacular rear. It was just as firm and generous as mine, defying the fabric of the uniform with every movement on those heels that made her look so confident, so in control of the situation.

"Why are you hiding in there?" she insisted, crossing her arms from the dry area.

"Someone... someone took my bag from the bench. My clothes, everything." Tears of frustration finally rolled down my cheeks, mixing with the water from my violet hair. "I have nothing. I'm stuck in here naked... I need something to cover myself. A t-shirt, a sweatshirt, anything. I'll pay you back, I'll do whatever you want, but help me before someone else comes in."

A dense silence fell over the locker room, broken only by the constant dripping of the shower beside me. I could hear Clara's breathing from across the hallway. Instead of turning around to go look for help, her pristine silhouette remained motionless at the entrance of the showers.

"Are you really completely naked back there?" Clara asked.

For the first time, her tone of voice didn't sound worried. It sounded strangely slow, almost amused, as the echo of her heels took a small, deliberate step inside the shower area.

A shiver ran down my spine. I remembered the garment I was wearing. The wet string was still buried between my buttocks, and the word "Open it" was soaked right over my private parts. If Clara took just two more steps down the bathroom hallway, she would see the result of the gift she herself had given me, exposed under the harsh light of the locker room.