Forget about the bra

After considering it, you decide it’s not worth it to mess with the bra and invite further scrutiny. Besides, you aren’t entirely clear about what purpose they serve anyway — particularly in a body such as yours, with such firm breasts.

You stuff the bra in your gym bag, along with your cheerleader uniform and retrieve a pull-over top and denim shorts. You pull those on with ease, although it really feels weird when you zip up your shorts. You instinctively pull the material out to avoid injury to your manhood and remember afresh that there’s nothing there to protect. After 18 years of your penis being one of the most important things in the world, you feel very disoriented to be without one.

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Despite all that’s going on, you can’t help but smile at the sight. You are pretty hot. You also notice that your nipples are creating little protrusions in the front of your top. Perhaps that’s one reason for wearing a bra. You self-consciously brush at them, as if to flick some lint off your shirt, but that only seems to make them stand out more.

“Who are you trying to impress?” asks the girl who helped you with the sports bra. “I thought you were interested in focusing on your studies — not attracting guys. Or have you decided to give in to Brad’s puppy dog eyes?”

You awkwardly make some excuse about brushing away a fly and hurry out of the locker room before getting pulled into any conversations.

Once out of the locker room, you breathe easier, but you still need to get somewhere safe to think.