Chapter 9: Friday at School

Jake

What a night that had been. When I awakened Friday morning, Susan’s head was on my shoulder and my nose was filled with her bodily fragrance. She’s unreal. I don’t know if she ever wears perfume, but her body creates the world’s best. I just looked down at my sleeping beauty. And what a beauty she is. With her eyes closed, I realized for the first time how long her eyelashes are. They were perfect crescents on each cheek. Then she awakened.

You probably know some people who take forever to wake up? Who are virtually useless for the first several hours of each day? Not Susan. Her eyes opened and she was fully awake. Moreover, the first thing I saw was the love-light in her eyes. And it’s for me. How neat!

When we got out to the kitchen, we found our two mothers — naked, as usual — having coffee. “What are you wearing to school today, Susan?” Kathy asked.

Susan slowly shook her head. “I think it’s time for more outreach this morning. I did a full strip show yesterday morning, and the only thing that could top that would be for Jake to take me in front of the crowd. But since there are still school rules about PDA — Public Display of Affection — I really think that being fucked at the main entrance would be a bit beyond the pale. So the answer is that I’m not going to wear anything. I guess I’ll just wear my driving shoes and let it go at that.”

Mom and Kathy just exchanged looks and winks. Then Mom remarked casually, “Sounds pretty good to me.”

Mother Kathy just nodded in agreement, so that’s what happened.

After breakfast, we got in the car and it was funny, I guess. Jill and I were dressed while our driver was naked. As we traveled on the streets, I paid attention for the first time to Sue’s driving. She is really good — one of the very best. First of all, unlike a lot of high-school kids, she just concentrated on her driving. Although the car had a pretty impressive sound system, all she had on was the radio station with the best local traffic coverage, and its volume was set low. Her eyes were constantly shifting from the road to her three mirrors and back to the road. She seemed to have an uncanny awareness of where all the other cars in sight were, what they were doing, and, more importantly, what they were about to do or might do. Will Stockdale was certainly correct: Susan is really an outstanding driver.

Just before getting on the expressway, she commented that she needed gas and pulled into a C-store with gas pumps. “This car may look like an econobox,” she commented, “but it sure doesn’t use fuel like one.”

I think she almost caused a few accidents when she got out of the car naked and passing drivers saw her. One almost went straight into a utility pole, but managed to swerve clear in time. Anyway, she pumped her gas and then took her purse with her into the store to pay for it.

Susan

It was shaping up to be another lovely day. The temperature was comfortably in the 70s, so being naked wasn’t a problem. I was in love — madly in love — with Jake Collins, and I was pretty sure he loved me back. At least the look in his eyes that Marty Harris captured said that he did.

The C-store had one of those automatic door openers. The door slid open and I was going into my purse for gas money when I looked up ... and was stunned. There were two guys standing at the counter with guns. It was a holdup!

While I certainly don’t know, maybe the fact that I was naked caught the gunmen’s attention. From their position, I was at their 8 o’clock. Just then the closest one started to turn toward me. I guess he was nervous because he fired when he was only halfway around. His bullet shattered the plate-glass window.

I guess Mom and I do have super-quick reflexes. The next thing I knew, my LadySmith was in my hand. B-Bam!

When the first guy tried to turn and fire, the store clerk dropped to the floor and the second gunman fired in her direction. Fortunately, I guess she was flat on the floor close to the back of the counter, so all his bullet did was to smash a pack of cigarettes in a display behind the register.

B-Bam! I took him out, too. Four bullets fired and all four were in the brain. But you know something? Those hollow-points make a hell of a mess. In both cases there was a relatively small entry hole, but they took out the far side of their skulls pretty well.

Jake

There I am, peacefully sitting in the car when all hell breaks loose. The first thing I’m aware of is the sound of a shot, the front window crashing out, then more shots. While I’m just sitting there stunned, Jill reached forward and grabbed the car phone.

I guess she just hit “O”. A moment later I heard her say, “This is an emergency... !” Remarkably, she gave the operator the address — I later realized that there was a big address number above the entrance to the store — and said, “Shots have been fired. Officer needs help! Get the police here right away!”

By that time, I had actually started to move. As I ran to the store, I could already hear the sounds of sirens approaching from about three different directions.

Entering the store, I found my love herding the other customers into the store’s back corner — there were three people, and they were scared to death. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “but you’ll have to stay until the police get here.” The three just stood there shaking. Their eyes were wide as they stared at the naked girl. I guess the fact that Susan still had a smoking gun in her hand didn’t help their composure a whole lot.

Moments later the first patrol car pulled up. The officer killed his siren but kept his emergency lights flashing. Two other cars appeared on the scene, and the officers came in brandishing their riot guns. One quickly checked the two men on the floor, and it was immediately apparent that they didn’t need an ambulance, only a morgue wagon.

One of the officers went out to his car to radio in while the other two joined Susan and me. I think it was only then that he realized she was naked. She still had her weapon in her hand but she was able to reach into her purse and show her badge and ID as a special agent of the Virginia Bureau of Investigation. The officer’s eyes flared when he saw them and he took them out to his car.

I guess he radioed that in, too, and quickly learned that Susan’s credentials were real. She was the officer who needed help. He rejoined us and returned Sue’s ID folder with an attitude of great respect.

A few minutes later, we were joined by detectives and then by the Crime Scene team. The senior detective, John Reilly, was able to identify the erstwhile hold-up men. He shook his head and rejoined us.

“Miss Stark,” he said, “you have just saved the Commonwealth a great deal of money. Both of those guys had rap sheets a mile long.” Then he grinned and added, “I think it was your mother who sent those two away for the first time a few years ago. Anyway, they were released on parole and wasted no time in knocking off a C-store. They were picked up and are awaiting a hearing on parole violation as well as awaiting trial on the hold-up.” He shook his head and continued, “Can you believe it? I’ll just bet they were trying to raise the money to pay their lawyer.” With a sardonic laugh he added, “For some strange reason, those lawyers want their cash up front. These guys tend not to be the world’s best credit risks.”

That wasn’t all. It turned out that the store had been robbed twice in the preceding six months. As a result, a TV security camera had been installed along with a tape deck running an endless loop. When the video was played back, Reilly just shook his head. “Good grief! This is as open-and-shut as any case I’ve ever heard of. There on the screen we see these two idiots with their guns drawn as you enter the store. One wheels and fires in your direction...”

Then he shook his head and interjected, “I would love to see this redone for time. Miss Stark, I still can’t believe you could possibly draw and fire as fast as you did.”

He had paused the tape for the comment, then rolled it again. An instant after the first shot at Susan, the second gunman fired toward the clerk. Again, there was the sound of Susan’s double-tap: firing two shots almost simultaneously.

Then Reilly took the opportunity to tease. (I really think he did it to try to relax Susan a bit, but I can’t be sure.) “Hmm...” he mused. “For the most part, your mother aimed for the heart: four bullets, all four through the heart. But you seem to aim for the head. I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said with a grin, “because if you’re ever both in a shoot-out, the guys with the bullets in their heart are your mother’s, while the ones with bullets in the brain are yours.”

He asked Susan to bring her weapon into the station for ballistics testing although, since she had fired hollow-points that had destroyed two skulls, there was unlikely to be anything usable to test against. Then he reached into his pocket, took out four bullets and said, “I think you’d better reload. Who knows? You might need to buy more gas later today, and you don’t have many shots left.

“By the way,” he added, “if I’m not being too nosy, what happened to your clothes?”

Susan tried to smile as she explained Naked in School to the detective. Fortunately, he had heard about it, not that it would have made much difference. It had been immediately apparent that to Virginia law enforcement, the Starks could do no wrong.

I took Susan in my arms and could feel her body shaking. I turned her toward me and kissed her. I guess it was the right thing to do. And aside from everything else, it was the finest kiss we had ever shared.

Susan

What a morning! At least I had just had a personal civics lesson: an armed citizenry just might be the greatest deterrent to violent crime. If even a small fraction of the population is armed, it introduces an additional element of risk to the criminal. In any situation he is running the risk that his intended victim or a bystander might be armed. As David Brinkley pointed out in his TV show, while we like to say that crime does not pay, the reality is that it pays very well.

Economists at University of Chicago discovered it’s a case of risk-adjusted rate of return. The profits from crime — the rate of return — have always been high. But over time, various steps have been taken to reduce the risk. You’ve probably all seen old movies from the 30s and 40s in which a police officer shouts, “Stop! Stop, or I’ll shoot!” Today, any felon found with a bullet in his back puts the shooting officer in really deep doo-doo. Oh, well...

The kiss Jake had given me was wonderful. After it, I was able to breathe again. We left the store and went back to the car where Jill was waiting patiently.

“Susan, I used your phone to call the police and then called the school to tell them we would be late. I explained to Whitaker what had happened, so this is an excused tardy.” Then she asked me, “How much do I owe you for the calls?”

I just looked at her. And glared! “What a nerve!” I exclaimed. “You have the presence of mind to call both the police and the school ... and you expect me to take money for it?”

“I ... I called your apartment, too. I didn’t want the families to hear about it first on the news.”

What a girl! And she’s my kid sister now, too. I took her in my arms and really unloaded. And guess what? I loved it! Her lips are as sweet as sugar. When we eased apart, I could see that she had liked it too.

How neat!

Just then the store clerk came out. She was embarrassed, but she offered us coffee and cinnamon buns to take with us. On the house, yet!

I took a few sips of coffee and then decided we had been delayed enough. I drove while Jake and Jill finished off the goodies. Finally we made it to school. Suddenly I had a thought: my plan to avoid having to top yesterday’s strip show by being naked on the way in had sort of backfired. Since we were so late, there was no one still around at the school entrance. Our two boxes were there, though, and I took the opportunity to undress Jake again.

Jake

I was enjoying the feel of Susan’s hands all over me. Although we were late, she was taking her time anyway. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it as much as I was. Jill was undressing herself after first sticking out her tongue at Sue and me.

Just then the PA speakers over the door crackled and we heard Principal Whitaker’s voice. “Attention, everyone. I want to advise you all that, due to events this morning at a convenience store, normal rules regarding the Naked in School program are suspended for today. Specifically, no requests, reasonable or otherwise, are to be honored by Program participants today.

“The reason for this action is that earlier this morning while on their way to school, Susan Stark and Jake Collins, along with Jake’s sister, Jill, happened upon a robbery in progress at a convenience store. One of the robbers took a shot at Susan while his partner took a shot at the store clerk. Susan, as some of you may know, is a special agent of the Virginia Bureau of Investigation. She carries a badge ... and a gun.

“After the shot was fired at her, she drew her weapon and shot and killed both bandits. She fired four shots; all four hit the heads, destroying their brains.”

Mr. Whitaker then chuckled. Honest. He continued, “I learned from the detective in charge of the investigation that the crime scene people are still finding bits of skull and brains in the display of potato chips the robbers were standing in front of.

“At any rate, it’s fair to say that Susan, Jake and Jill might still be a bit nervous. That being the case, coupled with the fact that she is armed, could make any harassment potentially dangerous for the harasser.” He paused and then continued, “I hope I’m making myself very clear. Because anyone violating this rule will be immediately suspended.

“Now please continue with your 4^th period classes.”

Wow! Well, we learned something: it was 4^th period and Susan and I had drawing again. Oh, well.

Jill left us and we made it to the art room. Susan was ahead and when she opened the door, we walked into a room-full of cheering students. Then one of the guys in the front of the room dove for the floor and put his hands over his head. Everyone — particularly including Susan — cracked up.

“Charley,” she said, “I really hate to tell you this, but your hands on your head really won’t stop a .38-caliber bullet.”

Then Charley rolled face up on the floor howling with laughter.

Mrs. Dawkins greeted us. I’m not the most aware guy on the planet, particularly where sex is concerned, but I really think she had that well-fucked look. It was very late in the class, too late for Susan or me to do anything, so she told us just to take seats while she worked with the rest of the class.

Going toward a seat I passed close to Mrs. Dawkins while we were away from the other students. Then I did something unprecedented for me: I commented, “You look like you had a really good night last night.”

And she didn’t even get mad! Instead, she looked at me and her brown eyes were shining. “The very best ever, Jake Collins, and it’s all your fault to. I was so hot we forgot everything! And since it’s that time of the month, if I’m pregnant — and I think Don caught me last night — with a boy, he’ll be Jake, and if a girl, Susan! So there!” With that she actually stuck out the tip of her tongue. But she giggled while holding up her hand with her fingers crossed. Know what? That is really one gorgeous woman!

Susan

Time for lunch. And, as had happened the day before, Marty Harris joined us. As we walked to the cafeteria, I realized that Marty seemed dejected. In fact, she seemed close to tears! And that was really different. She might have been the most ebullient person in the school: she was never down. But she certainly seemed to be then.

After getting our lunches, we found the same off-in-the-corner table we had occupied the day before. We sat with Jake beside me and Marty across from us. Our backs were toward the entrance; she was facing it. I quickly realized the girl wasn’t eating; she was just pushing her food around on the plate.

From behind, I heard a guy’s voice. “May ... may I join you?”

Before Jake or I could say a word, Marty exclaimed, “You didn’t call!” I looked at her and realized that although her green eyes were flashing emerald fire, there were tears visible in their corners.

The guy was Jeff Shepherd. Although Jake didn’t know him, I did, and nodded toward the seat beside Jake on his side away from me. He sat and I realized he didn’t have any food. All he had was a manila file folder in his hand. “I ... I tried. Honest to God, Marty I did try. But I just couldn’t do it... !” Tears were forming in his eyes, too.

“I just sat there by the phone for hours,” Marty said. “I even jumped on Dad a couple of times when he was on the phone. I wouldn’t let him talk for even five minutes for fear I’d miss your call...” Then she just broke down and wailed.

Jumping up from my seat, I went around the table to comfort her. When I took her in my arms, she really started to bawl.

At the same time, Jeff had jumped up from his seat, too. He went over to a wall under a stairway — probably the most secluded spot in the place — and his shoulders started to shake. Jake was out of his seat a moment later and followed him.

I just held Marty tightly and let her cry. While I was trying — unsuccessfully — to comfort her, I idly opened the manila folder. It was so thin that it appeared to be empty as it lay on the table. It wasn’t. I’m sure my eyes must have widened when I saw what it contained. There was a single 8 X 10 color photo, but the photo was of a painting. I was astonished. Without question it was a nude portrait ... of Marty Harris!

“Take a look, Marty,” I whispered. “Please?”

She did, and her eyes widened. Then she picked up the photo and studied it carefully. “My God!” she murmured. “It’s ... it’s not a picture, it’s a paean of love!” She looked at me with her eyes wide and asked, “Am I imagining things? Is ... is the artist in love with his subject?”

It was my turn to study the picture more carefully. Finally I nodded and said, “I didn’t think it was possible for a person to love another this much. At least I didn’t until I met Jake. Of course my parents’ love is like that, too, but I thought they were about the only ones like that alive.”

I guess at that point my eyes flared. The picture reminded me of something, and then it hit me. I had passed a bookshop in the mall a week or so earlier. Right in the front of the shop there was a big display of the latest Paula Parsons title, and the books were apparently selling well. But the cover illustration was of a nude woman from the back. It didn’t show either her face or anything in front, but it was the sexiest thing I had seen in years in spite of showing virtually nothing except the model’s buns. I hadn’t bought the book — romantic fiction isn’t my thing — but I wondered.

While I was woolgathering, Marty called out softly to Jeff, “Please come back.”

He did, with Jake beside him.

The poor guy was really in a state. He fell into the seat and just sat there looking down at the tabletop.

“I saw the picture,” Marty said softly. “Where did it come from?”

“I ... I did it from the picture of you I have,” he replied with his eyes still downcast. He seemed unable to look at her at all, let alone look her in the eye. “Tom Mason told me he told you about it yesterday.” He paused and then added softly but vehemently, “I could have killed him for that!”

“May I see it, please?” Marty asked, ignoring Jeff’s last comment.

He took out his wallet, opened a hidden pocket and took it out. But never did he look at her; he just passed it across the table.

She looked at it and I did, too. Suddenly I realized something: there was Marty in the shower, and her protective shell was down. She appeared vulnerable ... and intensely beautiful. She is a small girl at five feet two, but, although she was quite thin, her body was a thing of beauty. Her legs were to die for.

“Jeff,” she asked, “when was this photo taken? Do you know?”

“Last spring,” he replied with no further comment.

“Can you possibly love me as much as it looks in the picture?” she whispered.

For the very first time, Jeff Shepherd looked up at her. And there was hope shining in his eyes. “Of course I can, Marty,” he replied softly. “I tried — God knows how hard I tried — but that picture is as close as I could get to expressing my love for you.”

Marty was slowly shaking her head. “But you can’t, Jeff. I’m a slut. No one in his right mind could ever care for me, let alone love me!”