“What the hell, Jill? Is this some kind of a joke? Did you lose a bet?”
That was Lytton, one of my acquaintances. Well, I guess you could call him my friend. I’d only known him since the beginning of this year, but he was cute and fun and Lydia was always teasing me that I should ask him out.
I begrudgingly filled Lytton in on what had happened over the weekend.
“Damn, is that even legal?” he asked once I was done.
Everyone knew the rumors that a boy was made to go to school nude in the 70s, but whether it really happened depended on who you asked. Obviously, no one expected the provision to be revived.
“Lydia says she looked into it, and apparently it’s totally allowed, somehow. Believe me, no one is as surprised as me.”
“Yeah, okay. Still fucking sucks though.” He looked genuinely concerned, then caught himself being too serious. “Like don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the view,” he said, theatrically raking his eyes from the exposed top half of my boob down to my upper thigh, “But seems harsh.”
“Uh huh, thanks I guess?”
“For real though, if you need something today just let me know. I don’t know how people are going to react…” he said.
“So far it’s been just shock, so I’m hoping nobody will get any ideas. Besides, if they do I’ll just fuck them up, right?”
“Oh yeah, you gottem, girl,” he said, mocking my demure frame.
A few minutes passed in silence, but then he spoke up again in a softer tone. “Hey, I gotta ask, what are you wearing under that?”
I adjusted the top of the towel, thinking the lack of a bra might have been what made him ask. “You don’t want to ask that question,” I said without looking at him.
“What about--” he asked, gesturing to my bottom half.
“Uhh-uhh, no more questions, Sherlock.”
That shut him up for good, though whether out of respect or fantasy I didn’t know. Then my teacher started class, not even acknowledging me. She had probably been briefed by the principal this morning. I didn’t even try to focus on class, my mind consumed with what Lytton had said. I was glad to be able to call on him, and he seemed genuine enough. Still, realistically there wasn’t that much he could do to make things better than me. This was definitely a battle Lydia and I had to fight on our own.
Time passed in class, but that doesn’t mean I was enjoying it. Wearing a towel is incredibly annoying, but I guess that was the point. For one thing, they aren’t comfortable. While they feel soft enough when you put one on right after a shower, they clearly aren’t meant for having constant contact with skin. My tits were starting to chafe slightly, but most of all the fabric just felt wrong. I wanted my real clothing back.
Of course, the fabric wasn’t my main complaint. Having your only clothing be unsecured is also incredibly distracting, funnily enough. Holding it together while in my chair made my arm go numb, so eventually I trusted it to hold itself together. Naturally that didn’t work as soon as I wasn’t sitting stock-still, and that would cause a cycle: it pulling apart, me adjusting, my classmates trying to get a peak as they noticed my movement, and then back to the beginning again. It was exhausting, and I wasn’t completely decent at the best of times. But, I think I managed without really flashing anyone, and eventually the other students spent less and less time looking at me. Hopefully Lydia was having as much success.
Finally, class was over and I rushed out the door to meet up with Lydia again.
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