Chapter 6

Jason blushed a little. "Well, um, don't take this wrong, but if you need relief, and it doesn't go against how you feel about things, you can ask me. You know I won't hurt you."

Kylie blushed. A lot. "Um. I know. I, uh, thanks, but I don't think I will."

"That's cool," Jason said. "I mean, you don't have to, or anything. I just thought, you know..." He blushed again. "Oh, alright. You're really pretty when you come, okay? That was really cool in the shower."

The blush made it all the way down to her toes.

"Wow." Jason blinked. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just not ... um ... not used to this sort of thing."

"Well, still, sorry," Jason said, getting in line for food.

Kylie stood in line with him, semi-relaxed, though she tensed for some reason about halfway through the line, not relaxing until they passed through the doors into the serving area.

Kylie followed Jason to his table, snagging a glass of ice water on the way through, and sat next to him. Between Jason and the halfback on her other side, she looked like a miniature human, or someone's kid sister. The nervousness was back, and grew as she listened to the standard table-talk and let herself be petted.

On Jason's other side, a lovely blonde cheerleader showed no indication of any desire to keep her hands off of him, and, indeed, slipped down beneath the table for a closer inspection of his equipment, including an oral examination.

Jason struggled to keep an eye on Kylie despite the distraction, though it was difficult. She seemed to be having trouble, but none of the requests were anything that could be considered unreasonable; the groping was a bit heavy-handed, but not malicious in intent.

The cheerleader, however, had a suggestion when she returned to her seat. "Why don't you just spread her out on the table like a buffet, then everyone can grab a bit?" she remarked cattily.

The idea met with general approval, but Jason shook his head. "I think that's going a bit too far."

"Oh, come on," the cheerleader said. "The table's clean. It won't hurt her."

Jason shook his head again, glancing at Kylie. "Yeah, actually, I think it would. Seriously, guys, bad idea."

Kylie looked close to hyperventilating. Fortunately, the bell rang, and everyone started to get up. Someone muttered, "Geeze, what a little prude."

Jason snapped his head around. "Dude, how would you feel about having spiders poured on you?" No one answered, and the table continued to empty. He walked around to where Kylie was clinging to the table as if it were the edge of a cliff, and said, "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault." She shivered.

"I know, but still," he said. "Word'll get around, and people will ease up."

Kylie laughed. "Or not. Why do you assume that people are nice?"

"They usually are."

Kylie looked at him oddly. "Yeah, right."

"What?" he asked.

"If most people were nice, there wouldn't be so many wars, the world wouldn't be so fucked up, and everyone would go naked because there'd be no danger from it."

Jason shrugged. "It's getting better. C'mon, we're going to be late."

Kylie nodded. This period they spent in different rooms; Kylie had chemistry, and Jason had economics.

She hesitated when they reached the doorway to her chemistry class. The teacher, a balding, middle-aged man who scared all but the most geeky students into avoiding his classes like the plague -- rumor had it he was also some sort of martial arts champion, and he rarely showed any expression -- looked up and smiled, and she relaxed almost instantly.

"We've got a lab today, Miss Reed, fetch an apron and goggles, and take the station nearest the flooder."

Kylie smiled and waved to Jason as she headed into lab.

When Jason met her to go to their next class, she had a small burn on her upper arm from a splash of corrosive, and the teacher's promise to find her something more protective than an apron before the next lab.

Their next class was Computers, and Jason wondered if it was actually possible for his balls to crawl back up inside his stomach for warmth. And if he could join them. Kylie didn't seem to be any better off; her nipples were rock hard. By the time the class was over, they were quite grateful to escape to the relative warmth of their English class.

Kylie's mood deteriorated rapidly; the teasing she'd endured all day took on a decidedly catty tone, but there was never anything Jason could point to and say "that's too far". By then end of the period, she was tense and pale.

Jason grinned at her as they walked out of the classroom, whispering, "I do believe they're jealous."

"I hate that class," Kylie said. "It's my least favorite class."

"Why?" Jason asked.

She blushed. "It wasn't the one I wanted, and I don't fit in at all. No one in there seems to care about learning anything. They're just goofing off until the bell rings and they can go home."

"Which one did you want?"

"Second period Honors," Kylie said. "I have the grades for it, but they wouldn't let me have it."

"Why not?"

"Because my first language isn't English," she said.

"Uh ... so?" Jason asked. "I mean, if you hadn't told me, I wouldn't know."

"I know," Kylie grinned. "It is stupid, but that's what they said. Since English is actually my third language, I can't take Honors classes in it, at least not this year."

"Oh, that's bullshit. Hey, I'll talk to my dad," Jason said. He grinned. "There are a few advantages to being a coach in a school where football is king, you know?"

Kylie shrugged nervously. "It's okay. It's not a big deal, really. It's too late to change, anyway." She grabbed her clothes out of her locker with intense relief and headed out the door, with Jason following.

"I thought this day was never going to be over," she said, heading for the little roped off 'dressing area' on the front lawn.

"Mondays suck," Jason said, then grinned at her. "But it wasn't all bad, was it?"

Kylie blushed. "Um. Not all of it. Not bad. But ... embarrassing, yeah."

"Eh. Embarrassment won't kill you," Jason said. "Ask me how I failed my brown belt test sometime."

Kylie hesitated for a moment, thinking. "It's not the embarrassment. I've made mistakes and been embarrassed before. It's ... maybe embarrassment isn't the right word."

"What is?" Jason asked.

"Um ... it's not embarrassment because it's not something I did. Not something from within me. It's something that other people are doing to me."