Take a half-measure. Swimsuited.

You decide that you aren’t quite that daring. And there’s no way the devils could know anyway, right?

You try the door to the restroom, and miraculously it’s unlocked, saving you the trip back to the car. You go into a stall and quickly change into your one-piece, which is fashionable but reasonably modest. Not that anyone will be seeing it. Hopefully.

Back at the fountain, you catch yourself thinking about what someone would see if they looked at you. People always say your hair is your most striking feature: medium length, wavy, and most importantly with a blue balayage strip down the side. Further down your body: moderate breasts, flat enough tummy. You’re happy with what you see.

You leave your clothes and the towel just outside the basin, easily in your sight. You dip your toes in and it’s freezing. You won’t want to be in there for more than a minute. And, looking down, you reassure yourself that you’re technically modest, but this feels weird as hell anyway.

With one last look around, you decide you can do this. You clamber in less than gracefully, but luckily the noise of the fountain covers you. You take a few seconds to splash around in the spray (and you have to admit it’s fun in a childish way you haven’t experienced in a long time) before the cold gets to you and you retreat to your towel. You’re actually giggling now, any thoughts of the devils almost forgotten. Maybe you should even do this with some of your friends sometime.

You scamper back to the bathroom, dry off, and change back. You take a beat to listen for any voyeurs, but it sounds like you’re in the clear. It’s a hurried but uneventful walk back to your car.

You did it! It wasn’t exactly what the assignment dictated, but hopefully it will be enough for the devils. You feel proud of yourself for finding a compromise, but you know the real test will be lying to your new acquaintances.