Chapter 8: Valentine’s Day Delivery

I rush through the quiet halls to deliver the letter.

Knocking on the fingerprint-covered door window, I giggle at Mr.K in his funny outfit.

He motions me in with his tarnished bow.

The room bursts out in laughter at my outfit. I know most of these students, some since kindergarten. Sonia, my best friend, sits in the front row.

“Oh my god, Abigail, what are you wearing?”

Her voice joins the chorus of other comments and questions.

I ignore her as I kneel, holding the fuchsia-colored envelope upward towards Mr. K. My tights slide over the cold linoleum floor. I give Mr.K my most innocent face as he smiles at me. His stare follows my breasts as I move closer to him. I wish they were bigger. But then again, my erect nipples are only visible because I don’t fill the bra. Is that good or bad?

I arrive inches from him, my head level with his stupid white baby diaper.

He finally glances up from my breasts to the envelope that grows heavier in my hands. He takes it from me and places it on the desk.

Now what? I gaze at the slight bump in his baggy diaper. He must be huge to cause any protrusion in such a baggy garment.

The bulge remains inches from my face. I lick my lips before standing. The cheering class finally registers.

My face burns as I give everyone the classic actor bow, flashing everyone my breasts. In a panic, I sprint out of the classroom.

What must everyone think? I am no longer the innocent kid they knew from elementary.

“Abigail, again!”

The principal’s voice stops me.

I listen to her heels clicking towards me.

I turn to face my executioner.

Everything about her is scary. She wears a blood-red jacket, severe in its cut, over a baby-pink silk blouse. Her blood-red pencil skirt covers baby-pink silk stockings. The sparkling ruby-red heels click closer.

“What will it take for you to learn to walk?”

The messy coffee brown hair bun complements her black eyewear, ghostly black eyeshadow, and dark red wine lips.

She towers over me. My face at her chest, her red lace bra, and massive cleavage commands my attention.

She stares directly at my presented little nipples.

“I will walk from now on.”

I stammer, moving my gaze down to her blood-red tipped claws, held tightly in front of her body. They will do something drastic if I don’t stop running.

“Do so.”

I speed-walk to the center area and turn to head down the grade twelve hallway.

“Abigail.”

Annabella waves me over.

I need to change, but I can’t ignore Annabella.

She is rifling through a bunch of forms.

“Take the desk.”

I start to protest, but she’s gone in a swirl of purple.

I sit behind the desk, trying to adjust the bra to hide my little ruby-red buds. Will it be ok? I used to run around naked all the time as a small child. Now, I’m just a bit older, with only slightly larger breasts. I am also in High School, and that must make a difference.

I hold my hand against my chest to press the bra tight, impractical but better than flashing everyone.

I glance around at the tacky decorations.

Today just keeps getting better.

I’ve kissed two boys, grade twelve even, had my pussy licked by the hunkiest teacher, and jerked him off.

In Boredom, I reach for my phone, which I left in the changeroom. Shit.

The third-period bell screams out, and sweaty students gather at the table. I keep forgetting to hold my bra, so I constantly present my little red nipples to people in front of me.