Chapter 21: Battles Continued, Round Two

On the way to school, Denise and I had also spoken about how she would work gym to avoid the boys’ locker room as much as possible. Being on light activity really helped because she wouldn’t need to shower. We decided that she could put her sneaks on before and drop everything off everything at her hall locker instead of needing a gym locker. That way she wouldn’t need to use the locker room at all. And she could just dash through the lockers into the gym.

We delayed our walk to the athletic wing, waving off a few confused stares at our state of partial dress. Denise got one Request to display herself; she stretched her arms out and said “Ok?”

The guy said, “But you need to do it naked!”

She responded, “I am. Under my permitted safety equipment.”

The guy muttered to himself as he hurried away, “What the hell...”

Then the warning bell rang. We were given three minutes from the final bell to be in the gym.

“Here’s the locker rooms. The guys will all be rushing to get on the floor. You’ve already got your train ... er, sneakers on, not changing anything, so just zip straight through to the gym. You’re ok on what to do afterwards, right? Cool.”

I left her and went into the girls’ lockers. It felt strange. There were a few lockers designated for Program people, incredibly with no built-in locking capability (guess they figured if you had no clothes you didn’t need a lock), so I shoved my stuff in and slipped on my—uh, sneakers and took off my cycling tights. Then I pulled on a tight jock and cup. Shut the door, snapped on my lock, and ran out to the gym. The feeling of cool air on my exposed ass was weird!

Apparently Denise and I were the only two Program people in the class and both teachers zeroed in on us.

The male teacher, forgot his name, shouted, “You two! What’s the meaning of this clothes violation? Get those clothes off instantly! You have thirty seconds or you get a Program violation.”

“Sir,” I responded, these are Program-sanctioned safety equipment which is specifically provided for by the Program rules.”

“They are not! A jock is only for a contact sport and a swimsuit is certainly not protective! Take them off, now!”

“Sir, you can check with Dr Fletcher. He’s already approved our selection of safety equipment.”

“Nonsense. He can’t do that, the choice of safety gear is up to the teachers.”

“Dr Fletcher told me not to argue with teachers so I won’t. You can either find out from him or just start the class.”

“I don’t like smart-alecks...”

I held my temper. “Please! You have a choice to make.”

“Yeah. I’m calling the shots now. Your choice is either 100 or 500 laps around the track, now.”

“Sir? Today I’m not accepting that suggestion. It borders on abusive coercion; demanding that a student do a five-mile run for an arbitrary reason. Shall I make that an official complaint or are you withdrawing the suggestion?”

“Ok, I’m putting you on report for ignoring the instructions of a teacher and sending you to the assistant principal’s office right now for discipline.”

“I have to decline again, I’m afraid, sir. My instructions are to stay with Miss Roberts.”

“You are going to the office and we are going to help Miss Roberts to disrobe.”

She gasped and shrunk to me, holding onto my arm.

“Not a problem, Denise. Let’s go.” I took her hand and led her toward the stack of mats. “Let’s continue those exercises in meditation now.”

“Where are you going?” the teacher shouted.

“To our gym activity,” I called back. “A special Program gym activity.”

Denise snickered.

He started walking toward us. I put up my hand. “No, sir, don’t come closer. Your actions are posing a perceived threat to our personal safety; you implied that you were considering an assault.”

“WHAT? All right, this will stop. I’m having the principal come here at once.”

“Please do.”

Fletcher arrived five minutes later; the male teacher turned his section over to Miss Williams and went to him. I heard the conversation, at least the teacher’s part. He was quite loud. He quoted to Fletcher what I had told him, quite accurately, actually. Fletcher spoke to him and I could see him physically deflate in resignation. Fletcher walked over to us.

“I’m sorry—I should have given those two teachers a heads up about you guys. Mr Marshall (oh, yeah, that’s his name!) is an ex-sergeant in the Marines and not used to being questioned. I told him about your special needs and said that your statements were accurate about the protective gear. You may rejoin the class.”

“Thanks, Dr Fletcher,” we both said.

We walked back to the class and joined our respective groups, getting glares from the teachers, which we ignored.

Soon the whistles blew and “Showers! Hit it!” rang out.

Denise didn’t need a shower; she didn’t need to change either, so I took a deep breath (time for more fireworks), opened the girls’ locker room, and both Denise and I walked in. I looked around; this was really cool, seeing bunches of pretty, partially clothed chicks changing clothes. I had to look away then because my cock was beginning to stir and was becoming painful. We went to my locker and then I saw nicks and scratches all over my new lock and on the locker door around it. I looked around as a girl passed by.

“Oh, that’s your locker? You can open it?”

“Yeah, why?”

“The custodian was trying to open it before; when I came in to use the facilities I saw him with a big pliers thing trying to get it off. I assumed that someone was locked out.”

I asked for her name and then she left. Now I was really annoyed.

Just then Miss Williams came in. “Miss Roberts! You can’t be in here! Program people must use the opposite-sex locker rooms! Go there at once.”

Here we go. “Miss Williams, the rules specifically state that the USE of restrooms and gym prep facilities shall be done in the opposite-sex’s room. It does NOT deny the person the right to be physically present IN the room of the same sex, unless she is using the room for its purpose. Miss Roberts is simply standing here, being present, but is NOT using any of the facilities here for any purpose,” I explained.

There were chuckles throughout the room.

“The Program requires that Miss Roberts shower in the boys’ room; she has to be there.”

“True, if Miss Roberts were to take a shower, she would use the boys’ room.”

Denise spoke up. “I have no need for a shower, Miss Williams.”

“Really? Ok, then for your next class, we’ll be certain that you’ll need a shower.”

“Have you overlooked my doctor’s letter that states light activities only, Ma’am?”

Miss Williams stomped away.

“Denise, look. See how the lock’s scratched? He must have been trying to cut it off but couldn’t because of the shrouded hasp. I wonder why he was trying to break in. I think I’ll pay him a visit.”

I could skip a shower today since I hadn’t broken a sweat. Denise told me that she could hang out in the hall with the Guardians, so we went to the hall and found them waiting there; then I returned to my locker and switched back to my cycling tights. I was happy when I realized that I had gym again this week only once more, on Wednesday.

History class was next period.

When I got to History, Denise was already outside the classroom and she and her Guardian were dealing with Requests—mostly answering questions about why she was wearing a swimsuit instead of being naked. Then the first bell rang, allowing Denise and me to duck into the room. She turned to me.

“Kevin, thanks for all you did in for me in gym! And I had a blast with standing up to Williams.”

“Yeah, you did good, too.”

“Hey, I just thought of it—you think we’ll get called when the Program people come this afternoon?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Yeah, they may come today; we’ll see.”

Well, they didn’t and we spent our History and English Lit classes in peace. When the dismissal bell rang, Denise ran off to her locker to get her stuff because her mom was waiting to take her to her therapy session. She shouted a quick “good-bye” as she dashed out. I followed her to be sure that no one would bother her for a Request, but she got to the door and her clothing box, grabbed her clothes, and was running to the car before many kids had arrived for the dressing show.

The other Program kids had begun arriving and were getting dressed as quickly as they could to avoid being delayed for Requests. I had cheated on the dressing part; I had an extra pair of shorts and a shirt in my locker so I dressed in those, went to my box, and retrieved those clothes. I knew that this was a Program violation, but I didn’t really give a damn. Also, I didn’t think anyone would actually care if I was dressed when the school was empty. Then it occurred to me that I could just leave my outer clothes in my car before school and get them when I left. Yeah, need to tell Denise that, too. I suddenly recalled that I had to visit the custodian’s office. Finding it took several minutes of wandering.

When I located the custodian’s office I knocked, then went in carrying my lock.

“Sir, I was told that you tried to cut this lock off in the girls’ locker room earlier today. May I ask why?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say.”

Uh oh. “Can you tell me the authority that gives you the right to enter a student locker without a legal search warrant?”

“Doesn’t need a warrant. Just an administrator’s request ... uh, forget that.”

Ah-hah. “Maybe I will, if you tell me which administrator requested it, or shall I call the police and file a charge of attempted burglary? There were witnesses to your attempted break-in, you know.”

“Mr Abover told me.”

“And what did he say to do after it was opened?”

“That the Program person lost his key and needed his clothes. Bring him the clothes.”

Hmmmm, maybe Abover thought I would strip more for gym; actually, I did. Only wore a jock. He was trying to steal any of my remaining clothes to humiliate me, I guess.

“Ok, sir, I’ve decided not to do a police complaint if you write down what Mr Abover told you and sign it, ok?” He reluctantly did that.

Well, I’m getting quite a collection of signed documents from all kinds of school and Program personnel. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll make a scrapbook—or frame them.

I drove home, trying to think how I could use the custodian’s confession against Abover. I hoped I would get a bright idea soon. When I got home, I changed into some “reasonable” clothes and drove off to the med school hospital.

My instructions were to go to the urology clinic. I found the clinic and signed in. Soon I was called to an exam room where a nurse took my vitals and asked why I was there. This is so strange. They have my records and can see the diagnosis and can’t tell from that? I told her and she left, telling me that the doc would be right in. Two minutes later Dr Worthington came in.