continue walking

You decide that the money was much more needed in your experiment. You continue walking briskly. Just three more blocks to go, before you arrive at the University gate. At your pace, that would be about six minutes.

As you round the corner, you spot someone in a white cami and brown high-waist skinny jeans. You think you recognize her from grade school. You slow down, not wanting to catch up and have her notice you. You try to recall her name. Yes... Jessica, a once freckled-face plump redhead who was now one hot gorgeous brunette. You avoid staring at her ass, emphasized by her pocketless jeans, and try to forget the humiliating experience that kept nagging at you.

You turn red in the face as memories of grade school start hurling back. It happened during the break between class periods. You were sitting comfortably on the railings of one of the staircases at school when you accidentally slip. You vividly recall that as you were trying to grasp at one of the decorative tassels adorning the handrails hoping to break your fall, a pair of hands suddenly pulls them out of your reach.

You remember glancing towards the owner of those hands and the image of Jessica's grinning freckled face still burns in your memory-- the split-second before your crotch slams against the newel cap of the staircase. As you sit on the floor groaning in pain, not knowing whether you should massage your hurting balls in front of the other kids, Jessica approaches you with her ever-present squirt gun. "This will make you feel better," she says, aiming at your crotch.

The wetness did not even penetrate your boxers, but it was enough for the other kids to join Jessica in chanting, "Nick peed in his pants! Nick peed in his pants!"

Your painful recollection distracts you momentarily that you almost collide with an incoming motorcycle. You wave your hands in apology at the apparently female helmeted rider, who responds with a series of horn blasts. You duck into the entrance of one of the shops on the street to avoid further attention, and come face-to-face with... Jessica.

"Oh! If it's not Peed-Pants Nick! You really are an accident waiting to happen!" she remarks, glancing outside at the vehicular traffic. Part of you wants to leave the building immediately and avoid a repeat of another accident, but another part of you rationalizes that both of you are adults and bygones should be bygones.