Not yet...

You make it to the bus stop just as it's pulling up, heart pounding from the sprint. Sliding into a seat near the back, you try to act normal, but every shift in your position reminds you of those pink satin panties hugging your junk. They're smooth, way smoother than your usual boxers, and yeah, they fit a little too well, another gut punch to your ego about what's down there. At least no one's staring, right? The bus jostles along, and you keep your legs pressed together, paranoid that the fabric might ride up or something.

Chantelle's already on the bus, chatting with Sophie and Jess up front. You catch a glimpse of her skirt, jesus, it's basically a belt, and wonder if she's got on something similar to what you're wearing. Nah, don't think about that. She spots you and smirks, waving you over like you're her personal errand boy. "Hey, loser! Come sit with us. We need a fourth for this dumb game Sophie's making up."

You hesitate, but the bus is crowded, so you shuffle up and squeeze in next to Jess, who's all smiles as usual. She's got her red hair in a ponytail today, looking cute in her uniform, and she bumps your shoulder playfully. "Morning, Joe! You look... flushed. Rough start to senior year?" Her eyes linger a bit too long, and you swear she glances down at your lap for a split second. No way, right? It's just your paranoia.

Sophie leans over Chantelle, flashing that killer smile with her green eyes sparkling. "Yeah, you do look a little off. Overslept? Or were you up late thinking about... stuff?" She winks, and your stomach flips. She's always like this, flirty, teasing, but today it hits different with your secret situation. Chantelle rolls her eyes. "He's probably just mad I beat him to the bathroom again. Mom's gonna kill you if you're late on day one, bro."

The ride drags on with them gossiping about summer flings and who's hot this year. You nod along, trying to play it cool, but when the bus hits a pothole, you jolt and feel the bow on those panties shift against your skin. It's subtle, but it makes you cross your legs tighter. Jess notices and giggles. "You okay? You seem squirmy." You mumble something about the seat being uncomfortable, and Sophie laughs. "Aw, poor Joe. Need a cushion?" Chantelle snorts. "He'd probably take one of mine if I offered."

By the time you get to school, your face is probably red, and you're hyper-aware of every step, convinced the satin is whispering against your pants. No big disaster yet, but it's like the universe is teasing you, building up to something. You head to homeroom, hoping the day stays low-key.