Chapter 14

"Mom, how long does a Brazilian wax take?"

"A what??!!"

"A Brazilian Wax," I repeated more loudly. I'd been talking to my bellybutton, so maybe she hadn't heard me right. We had slept together last night, but not well, and been up early so we had time for me to do some serious prep work for being NiS again and still get to Peggy's and then to school in plenty of time. It was going to be a long day.

"Depends. Could take half an hour. Why on earth do you want to know?" She came to the bathroom door and looked in on me, sitting stark naked on the toilet seat, my long legs bent at the knees and spread wide like a frog's, trying to shave my own crotch.

"Worthington likes 'em young," I explained, looking up at her. "I want to look as young as possible so he'll take the bait -- namely me."

"Must you?" she asked.

I just gave her "that look" again, the one that says, "this is not open to debate."

I knew she was scared.

SHE was scared? I was terrified, but even more, I was angry. He was not going to get away with what he'd done to Peggy if I had anything to say about it. This had become very personal.

"Oh here, let me." She sighed unhappily. Kneeling between my legs, she took the razor from me and in a few minutes I was as bare as a baby down there. I'd already done my armpits, even my legs. My leg hair is light and fine, and doesn't show much, it's such a nuisance I only do it for big meets, but I didn't want anything that might turn him off. I'd probably have to do the whole thing again tomorrow to avoid stubble, and then again, until he finally took the bait -- took me!

If he took the bait. I hadn't a clue what to do if he didn't.

"Thanks, Mom." I gave her a hug before she stood up, but other than that there was no hanky-panky between us.

At the front door as I left I guess you could say I had my game-face on. I was as wired as I was before a major swim meet, maybe more. I was dressed to strip, but nothing too out of the ordinary -- old panties, old bra, a last year's T and shorts combo (a little small, so I had a strip of tummy on display) so if I never got 'em back it wouldn't really matter. I left the house fortified by a double breakfast of four thick slices of Mom's lovingly prepared whole grain French toast, six slices of bacon, a glass of orange juice, a glass of milk, and an extra-long and strong hug.

"You be careful!" she ordered, holding my cheeks and glaring into my eyes.

"Yes'm." I gave her a kiss and another hug. "I will be," I assured her quietly.

I did my best to un-wire myself before I got to Peggy's door. The day was going to be hard enough on her without me spooking her with my problems. She had no idea what I was up to, and if things went right she'd never know. I didn't want her blaming herself for whatever it was I would go through. You could say it was a good thing I had to protect her. It kept me from worrying about myself.

Following her mom's directions, I found her upstairs, sitting slumped on her bed, staring at the floor. She perked up a bit when she saw me, perked up more when I knelt before her, took her hands in mine, and assured her we'd keep her safe, that she'd done nothing wrong, that nobody knew what had happened, and that we loved her unconditionally.

She was dressed for school, sort of. Rumpled and mismatched, she looked like she'd thrown clothes on that she'd dragged out of the laundry basket, like I sometimes did. There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and a flock of starlings had to have nested overnight in her lovely brown hair.

She let me sit beside her on the bed, let me brush it out. As if we were chimps in the zoo, that simple grooming soothed us both. I added a little, sparkling barrette, which helped spiffy her up a little.

The rest of her look, gaunt and sleep-deprived, could easily be passed off as the results of a stomach bug. I don't think she'd had more than soup since Friday lunch, something like four days ago, and that lunch had been school food -- 'nuff said?

Her mom looked scared and worried even as I tried to reassure her, but she let us go, tears in her eyes as she closed the door behind us. As far as I knew, she still had no clue as to what had her daughter in such a state. I thought of her there, alone, all day, and wanted to cry myself. I hoped she'd be okay. I had to do something for her! I moved a talk with Ms. Andrews up near the top of my already too full to-do list.

All the way to school I made sure Peggy understood that as far as anyone knew -- except Missy, who was sworn to silence -- that she'd had a stomach bug. When we got there, early as it was, the lunch bunch was already there to welcome her with open arms, literally.

Peggy wasn't normally much of a hugger, and now she really shrank back. I explained she was afraid she might still be contagious. She looked wobbly enough to make it easy for me to arrange for at least one of us to be with her at all times, and Missy was already alerted to walk Peggy home since I had to pose for Kathy's art project. All I told the lunch bunch was that someone needed to be with her at all times in case she felt poorly, and that was enough for them. They are such a great bunch. They should wear T-shirts that say "All for one and one for all."

It was at that point the PA system called me to the school office.

Oh shit, here we go, I thought, curtain up on Act One.

"What's that about?" Fran asked.

I played innocent, and shrugged and waved as I answered the call, my heart suddenly hammering. Shit I was scared!

The sight that greeted me in the front office, with its high counter, cubby-holes for mail, ringing phones, teachers rushing in and out, rows of file cabinets, computers and piles of papers -- so much for the paper-less office -- made my heart slam to a stop before it resumed beating like a jungle tom-tom in a Lion King movie.

Worthington himself was there, in all his naked glory.

Shit!

Mrs. Devers stood beside him, and I swear to God I will never, ever play poker with her. Her face was totally unreadable, but somehow I knew this was her idea.

Worthington's expression was all too readable, when I managed to look him in the eye after taking an inventory of his slightly doughy, fish-belly-pale, lightly freckled body. It was balanced precariously on skinny, pale, hairy legs. His endowment, such as it was, drooped dismally over his testicles -- I refuse to honor them with the term "balls."

So much for him getting thrills from exhibitionism, I guess. Or maybe Mrs. Devers proximity struck terror into his glands.

If I had to put a word to his expression it would be "gloating," and it did nothing to ease my mind. I couldn't ask "what's he doing here?" since I wasn't supposed to know why I'd been called in, but I looked that question to Mrs. Devers.

"Good morning, Miss Walker," she greeted me. "Since he is the Naked in School coordinator, I invited Mr. Worthington to be here so he'd be fully informed as to why you have, again, been put in The Program."

I choked, and it wasn't hard for me to play innocent, I was so flabbergasted by this turn of affairs. "I'm in The Program? Again?"

Mrs. Devers nodded. "After carefully investigating your outrageous display in the park last Sunday, we have determined that you have brought disgrace on the Naked in School Program. While you have tried to claim that what you did was community outreach, it was totally without authorization by this office or the prior approval of Mr. Worthington. It was unacceptable."

Worthington just stood there, smirking.

My undercover watch-dog, Detective Sanchez, was by the filing cabinets, a sheaf of papers in her left hand, her right hand out of sight and I wondered if it was on the grip of her gun. Though if her pants were as tight as what I could see of her scoop-neck top, how she could be carrying a concealed weapon was beyond me.

But her eyes -- oh my -- those dark eyes of hers had that look that gunfighters in the movies get. I don't mean to say she'd use deadly force, but had no doubt she'd be over that counter and have Worthington in cuffs if he so much as sneezed in my direction.

I have to say, Mrs. Devers played it well. She had me crumbling as she laid it on with a trowel.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she asked.

I hung my head.

"No Mrs. Devers," I mumbled, while my mind tried to make sense of all this.

I translated her "I invited Mr. Worthington to be here" along the lines of "I pried his skinny little ass out of his office so he could witness your humiliation." One did not decline one of Mrs. Devers's invitations. I suspected that even the Principal, who was known to emerge from his office from time to time to walk the halls to accept the accolades of his subjects, was not resistant to her invitations.

"Strip!" she ordered brusquely.

Setting my backpack aside, I stripped, trembling as I did. Off came the T-shirt, down went my shorts, goose-bumps prickling my flesh as I stepped out of them. I handed my outer clothes to Mrs. Devers, rubbed my arms nervously, then reached back to unhook my oh-so unnecessary bra. As I let that slip down my arms and handed it to Mrs. Devers, I couldn't help noticing that Mr. Worthington's dick began to stir.

It's alive! I thought.

My traitorous nipples responded with their usual unabashed eagerness, perking up as if to survey the room. I caught a glimmer of a smile quirking Sanchez's lips, a twinkle in her eye.

Hooking my fingers in my modest cotton panties I pushed them down -- slowly, as if reluctant to expose my lower tummy, my hairless pubes, finally letting them slither down my slender legs. Balancing awkwardly on one foot, then the other, I stepped out of them. As I bent to pick them up I eyed Worthington's resuscitated masculinity. Even fully aroused his endowment was anything but impressive, but his interest in me was unmistakable.

I was about to reclaim my pack and walk out when Mrs. Devers surprised me by producing a length of string -- twine, in fact -- that tan stuff that's rough and tough, with little scratchy bits sticking out.

"This is a symbolic collar, to remind you of what you did to bring shame on The Program," she explained, tying it loosely around my neck. "You are to wear only that, and footwear, in accordance with the rules of The Naked in School Program, for the rest of this week and all of next. Is that clear?"

"Yes'm." I barely whispered.

"Should there be any program violations, Mr. Worthington will administer such punishment as defined by the Program guidelines," she added. "Is that clear?"

"Yes'm." The gleam in Mr. Worthington's eyes was anything but comforting.

She made me feel ashamed for real, and incredibly vulnerable. The string triggered another train of thought, and I suddenly wished we'd thought of using one of those radio tracking collar things they put on wild animals, maybe they even came with a microphone and could transmit sounds! We probably could have gotten away with that.

Shit! Why hadn't I thought of it? If there was a hole in our plans it was a foolproof way for me to alert the forces of law and order so they could start eavesdropping on Worthington. And what if he chose someplace other than his office, there was no way they could track me! Shit!

But it was too late now. I was stuck with this useless piece of string. It itched. It made me conscious of just how naked I was, naked in a way I'd never felt before.

"Now, off to your homeroom," Mrs. Devers ordered as the first bell rang.

Picking up my backpack, I turned and left the office to merge with the crowd. I got more than a few curious looks, and avoided making eye contact. I slumped! For the first time since The Stick had taken me in hand I forgot to stand tall.

Hell, I thought, what's this all about? It isn't like I hadn't been naked in school before.

The Stick, bless her, took over and gave me a swift kick in the butt. This is just another school day, she reminded me. Stand up straight, hold your head high. It's only a silly piece of string. We're here to run Worthington's worthless ass all the way to jail, and don't you forget it!

Put that way I didn't feel quite so alone. I visualized him doing a perp walk, trying to hide his face, maybe a tacky jacket draped over his head, his hands shackled behind his back, and felt a surge of anticipation. Even better, I visualized him in a bright orange prison jump suit, with a few leering, unshaven, heavily tattooed inmates eyeing him. I drew my shoulders back and stepped out, proudly naked. This is The Stick. She's tall. She's strong. She's sexy. She's avenging her friend.

Never mind that she's scared shitless!

A guy walking beside me asked why I was suddenly in The Program again.

I gave him the party line. "Oh, The Powers That Be decided that what I did on Sunday was a little over the top, so they stuffed me into the program for the rest of this week and all of next to humble me."

The guy guffawed. "They'll never humble you, bitch."

"That's Miss Bitch to you, Jeffrey," I shot back with a wry smile. He was a soph, in one of my classes, and really not a bad guy, except he had a habit of bragging about his conquests. He had a shock of brown hair as unruly as mine, and a nice ass.

"How about a pose?" he asked.

I debated flipping him the bird, but instead stuck my chest out, what there was of it, doing a sort of a pirouette, before strutting off with a toss of my head and a twitch of my ass. This is the Dee they all know and love, after all. The Stick strikes back.

But don't overdo it, I reminded myself. You don't bait your hook with a shark to catch a minnow. Worthington's the shark, I'm the minnow. That calmed me a bit as I went into homeroom, easily managing to look chastened as I explained again why I was again Naked in School. The teacher just looked at me and shook her head wearily. She'd already learned that I was one of those who often asked questions that could only be answered "because I say so."

Then it was the usual announcements, yadda yadda yadda. While they were droning on I was writing a note to Missy to ask Mrs. Devers to get in touch with Ms. Andrews, explain to her what was going on up here in psycho high, asking her to set up a joint counseling session for Peggy and her mom right away. After sealing that, I created an outside wrapper addressed to Inez, with instructions. On that I warned that Worthington might be on the loose and to pass the word to let me know ASAP if he was spotted, and get the inside note to Missy.

How I'd protect Peggy from seeing Worthington if he did stick his nose out of his burrow I didn't know, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

The Stick was teaching me to delegate!

It was urgent, so rather than using one of our pre-arranged drops I handed the whole packet off to Inez when we passed in the hallway, knowing she'd take care of her assignment, and pass the inside message to Missy in first period. That accomplished, I comforted myself by figuring I was reasonably safe from Worthington today, that he wouldn't make his move until he'd scoped out the territory a bit. Even so, I felt like I had a target on my back.

Between second and third periods Tweedle Dumb and Dumber caught sight of me and I heard their snide cackles all the way down the hall. They took a shot at me on the way to lunch.

"Hey, cunt!"

I didn't even flinch, just kept right on walking.

"Hey CUNT! I'm talkin' to you!"

Just keep walking, I told myself, cold sweat prickling me all over.

"Whassamatter? Didn't you hear me calling you?" Cagney, AKA Tweedle Dumb, made the mistake of touching my shoulder.

Whirling on him I asked, "Why? Do you answer to 'dork?'"

He'd picked a really, really bad day and place to try to take me on! We were right outside the lunchroom by now, quickly gathering a crowd, which I didn't mind at all.

I slapped his hand away when he reached for me again. "Hands off! I didn't give you permission to touch me."

"You're in the program! It's a reasonable request."

"I didn't hear a request. I still don't. Besides, I decide what's a reasonable request, or haven't you read the program rules? It's my choice to let you touch me, which is not going to happen in this lifetime, or the next."

"She's right," an upper-classman in the front row called out, which encouraged me immensely.

"What makes you the authority?" Cagney asked, getting a bit red in the face.

"We've read the book, Cagney, which is obviously more than you have," I answered. "Oh of course, I forgot. You can't read, can you. Let me make it clear, in words of as few syllables as possible. One more touch and I'll file an assault charge against you. I've got witnesses."

He gulped and looked around.

"But don't worry. I bet The Powers That Be will be happy to put you in The Program, rather than waste juvie court time on you."

That made him back off. Evidently he wasn't eager to join me in stark-nakedness. In his case I really didn't blame him.

"Now, if you don't mind, it's bad enough I have to deal with a school lunch. I don't need you spoiling my appetite." I pushed past him and his buddy Lacey.

The lunch bunch had been watching from the sidelines, grinning. Even Peggy looked cheered. They engulfed me, we went through the line together and made a bee-line to our usual table. Peggy was looking better as we circled our wagons around her. Maybe she was establishing defenses the way John had. I hated to see her retreat behind a shell that hid her usual sweetness, but if that's what it took to get her through the day I understood. I hoped the note I'd passed to Missy produced results.

"No sign of Worthington," Inez whispered to me, which eased my worries considerably.

"We seem to have the real Dee Walker with us again," Fran teased.

"In the flesh," I admitted, making an attempt to eat without trying to figure out what it was. It's safer that way. My vow to make my own lunch had been crushed by my morning shave. Fortunately, instead of stealing my appetite my jitters seemed to have turned my metabolism up a notch. Breakfast was but a distant memory and my body was demanding calories, even school lunch calories would do.

"I hear The Powers That Be decided you needed this week in the program, thanks to your little stunt in the park," Inez observed, not unkindly.

"A week and more -- I'm in it all next week, too," I told her.

"Bummer!" Cindy sympathized with a toss of her blond curls.

I shrugged. "Hey, this is me. I'm out to set a record, most days naked in school in a single term."

Fran guffawed loudly. "I'll notify Guinness."

That brought a laugh. At least nobody asked about the string around my neck, and Peggy seemed to be enjoying the teasing I was getting.

Naturally I had my radar out, just in case Worthington decided to strike early. Missy caught my eye, flashed our "note" sign and did a thumbs-up, so I nodded and relaxed on that score. Then, just as she turned back to her lunch and took a bite an office courier found her. I thought the poor girl was going to blow lunch out her nose, but she managed to pull herself together and read the paper she'd been handed. She paled a bit and shot me a look before quickly finishing her mystery salad -- she was dieting again -- and going over to Mike. She whispered in his ear and they left together.

Well, well, well, I thought. Unless I missed my guess I'd caught Worthington's interest and he was gathering intelligence. I felt badly about Missy being caught in the middle again, but Mike would protect her.