Chapter 13: Tuesday Morning - Dazed and Confused

Rebbecca

I walked into Biology with tons on my mind. Yes, okay ... Stories. Damn his precious, darling heart. 'A pang of jealousy.' He was human after all. And, he really wanted to be touching me. I'd like that. A lot. I guess the requests and the trip down the hall hadn't been that hard. Well, Junior had been. Next time, I'll have to hold him as well. It took me a moment to see Ms. Carlisle waving to me. That's when I noticed she had three chairs sitting up front. Uh-oh.

"Rebbecca, up here please." Caught! I'd heard about Biology classes and the Program. For the rest of the week I was the demonstration model. Why three chairs? Wait, she was adding a fourth. Tim and Shirley walked in hand-in-hand. Grinning. Naked. Looking more than a little flushed. Ms. Carlisle invited them to the front. We put our stuff down and sat, said hi to each other, and awaited our fate. The rest of the class settled down. Needless to say, all eyes were on us.

Ms. Carlisle turned to us and checked each of us out. With a little chuckle, she asked, "Anyone need relief?" Three negatives, so she turned and addressed the class. "We're not doing mammals yet, so no live demonstrations—this week."

"That sucks," said a male voice in the back.

"Mr. Allen?" Ms. Carlisle asked while raising her eyebrows.

"Yes, ma'am?" Will Allen, class creep.

"Since you want to participate, why don't you join us in the front, please." I recalled that teachers could request anyone to participate in the class, naked, as long as they weren't exempt. And not many were. A few for religious reasons and one because of diplomatic status is all I could recall.

"Why?" His voice hard, defiant.

"Because I said so. And, I like having an equal numbers of males and females sitting here."

"Naked?" Now I have a good reference for what incredulous sounds like. I filed this in my writing folder.

"Of course. Any arguments, you could find yourself finishing the week that way and doing your normal week later." I remembered that punishment time in the Program didn't count towards fulfilling your requirements for graduation. I was glad I was on the end with Tim and Shirley between me and the empty chair. Shirley didn't look that happy.

Will was skinny with really bad posture, ragged clothes, bad acne, and he smelled. He didn't often talk to us girls—he leered. When he talked to us, it was always rude or disgusting—focused on chests and other bits. When he stripped there were no cheers. No cat calls. Everyone looked at other things around the class.

"Class." We all looked at Ms. Carlisle. "Will is not being punished. He's doing this just for this class at my request. Unless this whole class wants to go naked for the rest of the day, you are going to show some appreciation and respect for Mr. Allen." The class politely, and quietly, clapped.

Tim leaned across, looked at Will, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." His eyes actually showed appreciation. I gave him a thumbs up and Shirley patted him on the arm in support. He glared at each of us and didn't say a thing.

For us nude people, the class passed almost normally. We just sat there naked, on display, instead of in our normal seats. We were expected to participate in class like everyone else. It was impossible to take notes, though. We weren't allowed to cover ourselves, so no notebooks in our laps or laptop computers. I'd have to ask someone to email me a copy of theirs later. The new Electronic Classroom hadn't reached out school yet, so no video, audio, transcripts, notes, and references online—yet.

About ten minutes from the end of the class, Ms. Carlisle took a different direction that shocked the four of us up front. "Okay, from now through the end of the year, we're going to reserve the last ten minutes of class to question our Program participants. That is, when we have them.

"First, a question from me to each of you. Are you a virgin? Rebbecca?"

"Yes, ma'am." I looked down and felt myself turning really red.

"No." Tim and Shirley answered in unison and then smiled at each other.

"Will?" Ms. Carlisle asked into the protracted silence.

"Ah, yeah." I think he might have turned brighter red than me.

"Thank you for sharing. Fifty percent virgins is a little high for seniors in High School, about average for teenagers. This small a sample size might account for it." She shook off the question about sample size and looked at the class. Her eyes showed true concern. "Anyone that is being pressured, think about that. You're really not alone." She paused to let it sink in. "Okay, any questions from the class?"

Hands were raised and she pointed to a girl in the third row. Stacy? Amanda? I couldn't remember.

"Ah, Rebbecca ... Since you're a virgin ... Do you still have ... I mean ... Are you ... intact?" She looked as embarrassed as I felt. Ms. Carlisle didn't say anything for a minute. I think it was a contest to see which of us could turn the reddest. Finally, she gave us a break.

"Being intact is having a hymen, which is the membrane that protects the vagina. Having, or not having a hymen is not an indicator of virginity. Even though many ignorant cultures have, and still do, consider it so." Ms. Carlisle preached, and then turned waiting for me to answer.

"I was intact until yesterday." I managed to get that out—somehow. My core responded with my recall. It heated and I felt the need to squirm. 'Oh, God. Everyone will know I'm a slut.'

Tim turned and asked, "Because of what happened in the hall?" Concern written all over his face.

Now I was red all over and having trouble breathing, recalling the sudden pain. 'Breathe, ' I recall Luis telling me. Good advice. "Almost. That hurt." I said that?

"How?" Thanks, Shirley. Wait until your turn.

"Luis, at my request, took it with his fingers." My core fluttered at the thought of his kisses and what his tongue had done to me. "I wanted it ... gone." I just gave them confirmation that I am a slut. I'm going to need a towel—soon! My hands look very nice in my lap.

Ms. Carlisle came to my rescue at that point. "Let me educate the two of you that don't know about what happened yesterday. Plus, correct the information most of the rest of you are carrying around. Rebbecca was assaulted in the hallway. A person—unknown—came up behind her and attempted to push their fingers into her vagina. Ram would be a better word." She looked over at me and saw the astounded look on my face. How did she know this? "Rebbecca, I'm very aware of what happened. The teachers have as good a grapevine as the students. I hope better!" The class chuckled. "I totally agree with what Luis did—although not officially." She turned back to the rest of the class. "There is someone in this school sporting a new tattoo on their forearm today. It's temporary and resembles a bruise. Coincidentally, it is the size and shape of Luis's hand."

Will had been wearing a long sleeved shirt before he stripped. No one had paid attention to him then or since. However, as soon as Ms. Carlisle finished explaining, he tried to hide his right arm. The movement in the otherwise still classroom was like a beacon to a moth on a dark night. It caught everyone's attention. The bruise on the inside of his forearm was not so easily hidden by his small hands.

"Mr. Allen. Do you have something to add to this conversation?" When he didn't speak, she went on, measuring her words carefully. "The school's official position is that Luis acted within acceptable boundaries. In fact, the faculty and staff think he showed considerable restraint and maturity. The person that committed the assault has one, and only one, chance to do the right thing and show their maturity. Again, do you have anything to add to this conversation, Will?"

He sat. Not speaking. He just glared at her, then at me, then back again at Ms. Carlisle. Whenever he looked at me, my skin crawled. Ms. Carlisle let the silence stand for about a minute. It seemed like a month to me.

Will finally muttered something unintelligible.

"Excuse me, Mr. Allen. I didn't hear you." Ms. Carlisle sounded just like a Drill Sergeant in the movies.

"I didn't say nothin'." His tone and manner added the word bitch to the end of the sentence.

"Miss Keon, did you hear anything?" Ms. Carlisle asked Shirley. How is she doing this? She's so collected and together.

"Ma'am?" Shirley looked scared. Tim leaned over and whispered something to her. She straightened as a new resolve appeared in her eyes. "Yes, I did. He said, 'I'm gonna kill that cunt.'" Did he mean me or Ms. Carlisle? My blood ran cold.

The bell rang. No one in the class moved. Before Ms. Carlisle could say anything, Will jumped up and attacked me. Fists swinging! I fell off the chair trying to defend myself.

Luis

I was letting the differentials fade from my mind, not to mention all the hands on Junior as I walked to Becca's classroom door. Faint memories of Biology and the Program rattling around in my mind. Then, Susan walked by and gave Junior a tender, sweet squeeze.

"See you in History, Luis!" She smiled and gave me a wink. I stared at her ass as she walked down the hall. The way her dress swayed was ... Interesting. What Calculus class? Biology? Oh! Yeah ... Becca! Junior twitched at that notion.

The second bell rang. Nothing. It was too quiet. The door was still closed. Then I heard a scream followed by angry voices and more screams. The door was opening by my own hand before my brain registered that one of the screams had belonged to Becca. It was still trying to catch up to the moment when I found myself with a double handful of slimy flesh. It had been on top of Rebbecca hitting her. She was curled up on the floor in a protective posture.

The thing in my hands, now high over my head, was screaming in rage and thrashing worse than an eel on a hook.

Ms. Carlisle was yelling in an attempt to be heard and restore order.

Shirley was backed up against Tim, screaming in terror. Tim looked shocked and was trapped from any action by Shirley.

Everyone else seemed frozen by the suddenness of it all.

"DON'T!" Becca's voice cut through the confusion. Her eyes held fear and determination. Her hair was a mess. Her arms red from the beating. "Don't do it, Luis. He's not worth it!"

My training had kicked in. I had removed the danger and done nothing more. Looking at Becca, though, made me want to beat this little shit to a pulp. I didn't. Her eyes and voice kept me from doing it more than my training. I set him down on his feet. As soon as he got his balance, he swung at me. Idiot! I caught his fist in my hand, which made a sound like a wet rag hitting a steel floor, and squeezed until he was on his knees.

"Don't move," I managed to get out of my mouth through gritted teeth. I was doing everything in my power to keep from just crushing his hand. "Becca, are you okay?"

"I ... I don't know." She was sitting up now. I breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Shirley, check her out, please? I can't let this fool go right now." Shirley, Tim, and Ms. Carlisle surrounded Rebbecca and began to check her over. I looked at Will and saw absolute hate in his eyes. They were wild with rage and not at all human. The same look I had seen once with a trapped, feral dog.

Dr. C came running into the classroom. Part of me registered that I had never seen him run before. He saw me holding Will down with one hand and that I was relaxed, not moving. He headed straight to Ms. Carlisle. They moved away from the crowd and had a quick, whispered conversation. I didn't think I was in trouble, not with things the way there are today. I remember Poppa telling me about "Zero Tolerance" and all the problems that caused. Under that system, I would have been expelled for what I did. That, along with the cultural notion of Personal Responsibility being personal, not legislated or regulated, had actually reduced violence in schools.

"Luis, escort Mr. Allen to my office. I expect him there in one piece, but get him there. Okay?" His eyes bored into me. I knew exactly what he was asking of me. Use only the force necessary to get him to the office. I nodded. "Mr. Carter, accompany him." Tim got it and nodded. We both knew his job was to monitor me. "Miss Davis, I'd like you to go to the nurse's office and get checked out."

"Dr. Cavenaugh, I'm okay. Just in shock. I'd rather be with Luis right now." Her eyes held only a hint of fear. The rest was pure determination backed by resolve.

"Are you sure?" His voice much softer. Another thing that has changed, according to Poppa. In days of old, she would have been forced to go to the nurse so the school could avoid a lawsuit. She now had personal choice on her side.

"Yes." My Becca had more than a note of defiance in her voice. Damn, I love that girl. Just took a beating, yet knew what she wanted and was going to get it. She got up, very slowly, and came to me. "I want to hold you and hug you. Right now you're a little occupied. Later, please?" I winked at her, not trusting my voice right then, and blew her a kiss. I was so proud of her and the way she was handling all this. I twisted Will's arm a little harder. Reflex ... Right! He yelped. Becca looked at me in a way that reminded me of one of Momma's scoldings. I let some of the pressure off of Will's elbow. Her eyes briefly flashed a smile.

Dr. C gathered up Ms. Carlisle and the front row of the class with a few glances and a wave. "If anyone else would like to share their observations of the incident, please let Mrs. Grant know and we'll contact you during the day."

The entourage headed out into a crowded hallway. Dr. C led the way and parted the seas. I was holding Will's hands behind his back with one hand, my other on the back of his neck propelling him forward. I kept him a little off balance without the danger of him falling over—so he couldn't use his feet as weapons. He was screaming a constant rant of obscenities and threats. I wanted to gag him, but neither of us was overdressed enough to provide materials to cram into his foul mouth. That's when it hit me that he was nude as well. Plus, I saw the bruise on his forearm.

A huge part of me wanted to waste him right in the hallway. Pull his limbs off, one by one, and roll his torso into a little ball and flick it into space. Then play soccer with his skull. He fought me every step of the way, which was all the excuse I needed to make sure his hands would remember this day for a very long time.

When we got to the office, Dr. C whispered to Mrs. Grant and then led the key players into his office and directed the rest of the troops to the seats in Mrs. Grant's domain—the Cavern.

"Mr. Contadino, please place Mr. Allen in the chair in front of my desk. I trust that you will not allow him to get up?" I nodded and walked him to the chair. Just as I released his hands to seat him, Dr. C went on. "I've instructed Mrs. Grant to call the police and..."

Will went nuts. He pushed the chair back into me as hard as he could using, what was to him, some superhuman strength. Then he slithered out from my relaxed hold on his neck and picked up Dr. C's letter opener from the desk. He attempted a roundhouse swing towards me. Me disappeared.