Chapter 2: The Bare Rules (Part 2)

She stayed in the bathroom as long as she could. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Long enough that her mother would notice. Long enough that Victoria would come looking for her.

"Chloe." The voice came from downstairs, flat. "Breakfast is ready. Now."

I can't go down there. I can't sit at the table with my whole family while I'm---

"Chloe."

She unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway. Her hands snapped back into position---left hand cupped over her breasts, right hand pressed between her legs. She walked to the stairs and started down, one step at a time. She couldn't hold the railing---both hands were busy---so she moved carefully, her bare feet silent on the wood. The third step creaked, the one near the bottom. She'd been hearing that creak her whole life. It had never sounded so loud.

The kitchen was bright. Sunlight streamed through the windows over the sink. The coffee maker was gurgling. Bacon was sizzling in a pan on the stove. Her father was sitting at the table, a newspaper in front of him, his coffee mug untouched. He wasn't reading. He was just staring at the paper.

Victoria was at the stove, flipping bacon with a fork. She was dressed---jeans, a blouse, her hair pulled back. She looked like she always looked on Saturday mornings. Like nothing had changed.

Ethan was already at the table, a glass of orange juice in front of him. He turned when Chloe walked in, and his eyes immediately dropped to her hands---the one cupped over her breasts, the one pressed between her legs.

"Still doing that, huh?" he said. "The hand thing?"

"Sit down, Chloe." Victoria didn't turn around.

Chloe looked at her chair---the one at the end of the table, next to Ethan's. The wood was pale and smooth. She thought about her bare butt on that wood.

"Mom, can I please just---"

"Sit down."

She sat. The chair was cold against her thighs and butt, and she had to fight the urge to jump back up. She kept her hands where they were. She hunched forward, her hair falling over her shoulders.

Victoria turned around. She looked at Chloe---at her hunched shoulders, at her clamped hands.

"Hands."

"Mom---"

"Chloe. Hands."

Chloe's throat tightened. She looked at Ethan, who was watching with undisguised interest. She looked at her father, who was still staring at his newspaper like it contained the secrets of the universe.

Please don't make me do this.

"Chloe." Victoria's voice was level. "I'm not going to ask again."

Her hands felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. She lowered them slowly, one at a time, until they were resting at her sides. Her breasts were completely exposed now---the soft curve of them, the pink nipples still tight from the cold air. Her pubic hair was visible above the junction of her thighs, the trimmed triangle dark against her pale skin. Everything was visible. Everything was out there for her whole family to see.

Ethan's fork clattered onto his plate.

"Holy shit," he breathed.

"Language." Victoria set the plate of bacon on the table. Then the scrambled eggs and the toast. "Ethan, your sister has something to tell you."

Chloe stared at her mother. "What?"

"Tell him the truth."

The truth. She wants me to tell him the truth. She wants me to say it out loud, in front of everyone, while I'm sitting here naked.

"I---" Her voice cracked. "I don't---"

"Tell him, Chloe. Or I will."

She looked at Ethan. He was staring at her chest, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide. He looked like someone who'd just found a hundred dollars on the sidewalk.

"I lied," she said. Her voice was barely a whisper. "To the school. I told them I was a nudist. But I'm not. I'm not a nudist. Jenna took my clothes as a prank and I got caught and I panicked and I lied."

Ethan blinked. "Wait. So you're not actually---"

"She is now." Victoria sat down at the table, unfolding her napkin. "Your sister committed an offense---streaking through her school---and then lied to escape the consequences. She fabricated a religious conviction to avoid expulsion and potential legal charges."

"Mom, that's not---"

"Quiet." Victoria didn't look at her. "I've given your sister a choice. She can go to the school on Monday and confess everything---the streaking, the lie, the deception. She can accept the expulsion and whatever legal consequences follow. Or she can live the lie she told. She can be the nudist she claimed to be, every day, in every situation, until she's ready to tell the truth herself."

Ethan looked from Victoria to Chloe and back again. The shock on his face was slowly transforming into something else. Something that made Chloe's stomach clench.

"So she has to be naked," he said slowly. "All the time. Like... forever?"

"Until she confesses."

"And she can't wear clothes? At all?"

"Not unless I decide otherwise."

Ethan turned to look at Chloe. His eyes moved over her body---her breasts, her stomach, the dark hair between her thighs---with a slow, deliberate sweep that made her skin crawl.

"Huh," he said. And then he smiled. "Okay."

"Ethan." Victoria's voice was flat. "You will treat your sister with respect. Understood?"

"Yeah, sure." He grabbed a piece of bacon and bit into it, still smiling. "Respect. Got it."

He's not going to respect anything. Look at him. Look at his face. He's already thinking about---

"Now." Victoria picked up her coffee. "Some ground rules."

She said it the same way she said everything---calm, measured, like she was discussing the grocery list. Like this was normal. Like any of this was normal.

"First. You will not cover yourself in this house. Not with your hands, not with objects, not with furniture. You chose to live as a nudist, and you will live that way openly. If I see you trying to hide your body, there will be consequences."

Consequences. What consequences? What's worse than this?

"Second. You will not hide in your room. You will participate in family life normally. Meals, chores, leisure time. If we have guests, you will greet them and interact with them as you always have."

Guests. Oh god. She's going to make me be naked in front of guests.

"Third. You will maintain this practice at all times and in all places. At home. At school. In public. Anywhere you go, you go as you are. Otherwise your story falls apart, and you wouldn't want that."

"And fourth." Victoria set down her coffee. "Your bedroom door. David, after breakfast I want you to take it off its hinges."