At first I wasn't sure if I was awake or dreaming. I only knew I was naked and writhing on the open sheets. My balls were tight and my cum was surging. Reaching down, I felt my smooth, hard cock throbbing and spurting. It was sticky. I could smell it. And then I had cum on my hand. I wiped it on the sheet.

The twilight between sleep and day continued. With eyes closed I drifted, almost trancelike, as wave after wave, pulse after pulse of sensation surged through me. It was long and because of that, messy. Then relaxed and sated, my body went limp and I sunk into my pillow. Limp, that is, except for an erection that would never go away. Six months, forever, what's the difference?

I could have drifted another ten minutes, another half hour, another day. But no, suddenly there were things I had to do! I needed to wipe myself off! I needed a shower! I needed to get dressed! I had to pee! I had to finish my history reading! I had to make swimming workouts!

Pissing came first. Before the moment passed I rushed to the bathroom and drained myself completely. Then I took a quick shower, not wetting my hair, and returned to my room. My sheets were sloppy beyond belief but I made the bed anyway.

Clothes were getting to be a problem. Tuesday I'd worn my loosest shorts and lost them. Wednesday I'd worn my loosest pants and lost them. Now it was Thursday and my two best options were unavailable! I tried a couple of things, but none of them worked unless I wore a jock strap. And thus was born an idea.

First I put on my gym clothes: a jock strap, gym shorts, a t-shirt, white socks, and comfortable sneakers. Some of it was tight but overall it worked. Then, I rummaged in my closet and found two plastic bags from Game Gear and Garb.

In one bag I put another jock strap and my regular class clothes: some loose pants, a shirt, dark socks, and my best looking sneakers. Then I threw in a roll of tape and the second bag.

I finished my history reading during a breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. Then, wearing my gym clothes, I drove to school.

Just as I was parking, someone -- I suppose Olivia's mom -- dropped off Olivia, Rita, and Serena. Olivia was naked as usual, and Serena was wearing a little sun suit. Rita was dressed in a tank top and a strangely slit skirt. Olivia kissed the woman who was driving, then all three girls waved and entered the building ahead of me.

Before entering the locker room I went straight to my hall locker. There, after removing the extra bag and the roll of tape, I taped shut the bag of regular clothes and stored it in my locker. Of course, I made sure the locker was locked.

Then, in the locker room, I put my gym clothes in the second bag, taped it shut, placed that bag and the tape in a locker basket, and made sure the basket was securely locked in its bin. Safe!

I looked around for Olivia, but apparently she'd decided not to wait and gone ahead to the pool. No big deal. I just took a quick, solitary shower then padded wet and naked down the hall and into the pool area. Olivia was talking with Rita and Serena, but broke off and met me at the starting block. Ethan and Caitlin were sharing our lane again. Ethan had finished his first laps and Caitlin was in the water.

"Is everything OK?" I asked Olivia.

"Oh, yeah, you just looked like you were going to take a while and I needed to finish some things with Rita and Serena. That's all. Is that PDA waterproof?"

I was glad she mentioned that. "It's supposed to be, but you can never be sure. I just forgot to take it off. I've ruined a couple of them that way."

"I'm sure Serena will hold it for you," Olivia suggested, just as Caitlin was clearing the lane. Watching Caitlin leave the water and Olivia dive in at the same time almost made up for my embarrassment at being naked. Almost.

With Olivia in the water I walked over to the bleachers and asked Serena to hold my PDA. Her sun suit was mostly yellow and orange, low cut on top, high cut on the bottom, and very thin. She couldn't have been wearing anything under it. Anyway, she smiled and agreed to hold the PDA.

Rita and Owen had obviously kept their appointment with Crystal. Rita's skirt was slit to the waist on both sides, in front center, and presumably in back center as well. Owen's fly was lengthened and widened so it had no chance of covering his dick and balls. His pubic hair was well trimmed and thinned, providing no privacy of that kind either. Occasionally Rita would reach over and touch him, and this was keeping him erect. Owen didn't seem to mind.

Serena seemed ready to chat but I needed to get my laps in. So, as quickly as I could, I pulled away and returned to the block. Ms. Sprite came in a few minutes later, and began watching our strokes and giving us advice. I got into my zone and almost forgot I was naked. The sight of the other swimmers was starting to seem more normal as well. But mostly, I enjoyed the pull of my muscles and the flow of the water around me.

At eight-fifteen Ms. Sprite ended the session as usual. Olivia and I had our usual quick shower, and then I headed confidently toward the locker basket where I'd left my gym clothes. As I neared it, however, something looked odd. And when I actually reached it, I couldn't believe my eyes. The basket was double padlocked!

One padlock was mine, of course, but I had no idea where the other one came from. And of course, removing my own lock didn't free the basket at all. It was just stupid and frustrating. Except, of course, for Plan B.

Walking back to my hall locker took very little time. But after rounding the last corner, I began getting sick to my stomach. Something about my hall locker looked odd, too. And yes, on closer inspection, my hall locker was double-locked! In desperation I removed my lock, but the second one still held securely.

Knowing it was futile, I nevertheless went looking for Ms. Sprite. When I found her she was just leaving her office and heading for a shower. Her scent was strong and she looked a little flushed, if you know what I mean.

"Ms. Sprite, someone put an extra lock on my gym basket and my hall locker," I complained, feeling more like a third-grader than a senior.

"Adam, don't you have any idea who might be doing these things?" she asked.

"Not really. I mean, it's just a prank. Lots of people could be doing it."

"You're a good sport to look at it that way," she commended me. Somehow, though, it wasn't very helpful. "You could file a report with the office but they'd just send it to me for investigation." That wasn't much help either.

"Well, can I undress and put my clothes in your office tomorrow?" I asked. "Maybe that'll stop whoever is doing this."

"Sure, if that's what you want, Adam. Uh, look, I need to rinse off a bit. The heat and humidity around the pool makes me sweat, you know. Are you going to be OK for now?"

"I guess," was all the reply I could make. I'd just have to spend another day naked in school, that's all. I was almost getting used to it.

Period 1 - Gym

Grudgingly I hauled my naked ass into gym class. Crystal, Kristin, Cliff Liepper, and Gary Fischbak were already standing in a group so I joined them. If the day's activities involved shirts and skins, we were sure to be skins.

Ms. Sprite arrived nakedly in time for the bell. As on Wednesday she activated the scoreboard video, but this time it displayed a full frontal view of Ms. Holloway's, uh, hips. Holloway cleared her throat and the camera slowly panned upward.

"Good morning students and teachers," she began. "I have just three announcements for today. First, since casual Fridays have lost their meaning, the student council has decided to sponsor a series of come-as-you-are days. The first one will be tomorrow, and it's a pajama party. Everyone should wear whatever they had on at five o'clock this morning (roughly three hours ago). This sounds like great fun, and I hope everyone participates. Please be honest. The purpose of this is not for everyone to run out and buy expensive lingerie or silk pajamas or whatever. It's to wear whatever you had on at five o'clock this morning. Don't bring sheets and blankets; they're not included. Teachers, if you want to join in, that's fine. No dress code means no dress code.

"Second, a week from Friday will be our first spirit day. During lunch and after school we'll be introducing all of the athletes, cheerleaders, pompom girls, majorettes, dance line performers, trainers, coaches, and other people who make Bald Mountain more than just a bunch of people sitting in classrooms. Athletic dress code will apply all day. For the rest of you, please wear the puce and chartreuse, even if it's only earrings.

"Third, please remember that The Program starts next week. If you want any control over when you get picked or who's in The Program with you, fill out your request and get it to the office before first period tomorrow.

"That's all for this morning. Have an enjoyable and productive day."

"Outside, people!," shouted Ms. Sprite the second Holloway finished speaking. "Same field, but form groups of five in the end zone. If you've got headgear, long pants, or a long skirt, leave 'em just inside the door. Let's go!"

By and large, most kids were better prepared than on Wednesday. For some of them, it meant they were easier about leaving items behind. For others, there was less reason to take anything off. Anyway, the pile of clothes by the door was much smaller.

Tess Palmer, the drama princess, was dressed like an Egyptian queen. Her dress was basically a waist cincher with a cross-front skirt attached, all in white with gold and black trim. The cincher was very flexible and didn't cover her breasts. The skirt was short, thin, and breezy. On her neck and collarbone was a broad necklace, and on her head a gold headdress with wings on the sides, a fantail in back, and a beak in front. The necklace and headdress, however, she left by the door.

Willie Fundeman clowned it up as usual. On that particular day, he wore white tights, red briefs (on the outside) and a Chickenman t-shirt. Trust me; you don't want to know about the feet.

"All right, people," shouted Ms. Sprite. "Here's the drill for today. When I blow the whistle, group one -- that's the group closest to me -- will all sprint to the 50-yard line. Then when I blow the whistle again, group two will sprint to the 50-yard line, and so forth."

"When everyone is on the 50-yard line and I blow the whistle, group one will sprint to the far end zone. When everyone is in the far end zone and I blow the whistle, group one will sprint back to the 50 and so forth. Got it? On my whistle. Three, two, one," and then she blew it. The whistle, I mean.

Naturally, we were group one. Everyone ran their four sprints, and then Ms. Sprite gave us a five-minute water break.

"How's it goin'?" Crystal asked Gary.

"Pretty well," he replied.

"What do your parents think?" Crystal continued.

"I haven't told 'em yet," he admitted.

"I saw that you left your pants in the locker room yesterday," said Crystal. "Didn't your mom or anybody notice something unusual when you got home?"

"My mom was working," Gary explained. "And anyway, I borrowed some pants from a friend of mine who's about the same size."

"Does anyone else in your family go naked?" I asked. "Like at work or anything?"

"No, they all wear regular clothes. So did I until yesterday," Gary answered.

"Do they ever talk about people who go naked? Friends of yours, friends of theirs, people on television, anything?" Kristin suggested.

"Not really," said Gary.

"Well, I guess you'll have to ask them," Crystal decided. "Either that just let them see you. Worst thing that happens, they'll tell you to put something on."

Just about then, Ms. Sprite blew the whistle and we did four more sprints. Then four more. Then a water break and a final four. After that, Ms. Sprite sent us back into the building for showers.

Crystal and I showered quickly under adjoining heads. When I turned the water cold and prepared to take a piss, though, she left and began chatting with Kristin and Gary.

Period 2 - Communications

Hoping against hope, I checked my locker basket and my hall locker. Unfortunately, both extra locks were still in place. With no other recourse, I fell into step with Crystal and dove stark naked into the crowded hallway. For some reason, though, the number of snide remarks and butt slaps seemed to be down. Maybe people were paying more attention to Crystal, or maybe they were getting used to the whole no-dress-code deal, or maybe it was the two girls giving each other head on a throw rug.

Nadia was already in Communications class when we arrived. Her outfit consisted of hiking boots, a ruffled camouflage miniskirt, a clip-on purse that looked like an ammo pouch, gold nipple bars, camouflage nipple shields, and a jaunty Robin Hood hat. She also had a new, shorter haircut and an outdoorsy makeup scheme based on olive, sepia, and gold. I wasn't sure if she looked more like a forest nymph or GI Jane.

I must admit, though, she played it cool. She gave no signal of anything going on between us, and she easily maneuvered me into sitting with Crystal and Vivian. That way, she could sit a row ahead of us and avoid eye contact with the two girls. Neither of them suspected anything except that Nadia had a new outfit.

After the bell rang, Mr. Magnusson announced that today we'd be conducting some practice interviews. The first, he decided, would be Crystal and a boy named Joel Timett. After sending Crystal and Joel to the talk-show set, he asked for volunteers to run the lights, cameras, microphones, teleprompter, and console.

Speaking first to Crystal, Magnusson told her to interview Joel about the most recent movie he'd seen. Joel was already working on his belt, buttons, and zipper, but Magnusson told him to leave everything on.

Next, Magnusson spoke to the girl who'd volunteered for teleprompter. She was to listen to Joel and Crystal discuss possible topics, and convert each workable one into a question. Later they would organize the questions into an outline for the interview.

After that, Magnusson talked to each remaining volunteer and explained what they needed to do. After about ten minutes, everyone was ready for the first take. Or so they thought.

Magnusson had Crystal and Joel sit on a couple of barstools positioned at 45 degrees to the camera, then made sure the lights, cameras, microphones, and teleprompter were properly positioned. Next, he picked up a hand mike and told the console operator to show a title and play some lead-in music. Then, he activated the monitors throughout the classroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning, it's the Crystal Cleary show!" he announced. "This morning's guest is Joel Timett, noted Bald Mountain movie critic. And now, here's Crystal!"

The video shifted to a fake plant in the background of the set. Then the console operator keyed up the right camera, and we saw Crystal's belly button with the words, "Bristle Bleary, Bad Mantra Hag Skull," across the bottom of the screen. Eventually, of course, the cameraman got Crystal properly framed and the console operator killed the titling.

"Good morning, viewers," Crystal began. "This morning we have the honor of speaking with Joel Timett about the movie Casablanca, starring Bumpy Hobart. Good morning, Joel."

Actually, she displayed quite a bit of poise. I suppose it took a certain poise to perform as a pompom girl, too. In any event, the video shifted to camera two, which showed Joel. This time, the titling read, "Jill Dimwit, Flume Critter."

"Uh, hi," said Joel, then the camera zoomed back to show both of them. Crystal clearly dominated the scene; I mean, which would you rather watch, the average guy in ordinary clothes or the tricked-out buff naked platinum blonde?

"So Joel, the original version of Casablanca stands as one of the great films of all time. How does this remake compare to the original?"

"I guess some people like the old one, and some like this new one," Joel replied.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I never saw the old one."

"Well, then, tell us about the new one," Crystal encouraged. Obviously, they could have filtered the questions better. Magnusson motioned for them to speed things up.

"Well, the story happens in this Mexican beach town. All the beach hotels are painted white. The main character is an Arab guy named Rick. That's Bumpy Hobart. He runs a beach bar named Rick's Moroccan Café. Everyone wants to get out of town because a bunch of textile manufacturers have booked all the hotels for a convention the next week."

"What's the problem with that?" Crystal prompted.

"Well, the textile companies want, like, everyone to wear clothes. Even the lifeguards and waitresses, you know? But nobody can get time off, and the planes are all booked up."

"How does Rick get involved in this?"

"Well, this old girlfriend of his shows up. She's a European chick named Ilsa Laszlo, and her main squeeze is a guy named Victor. They're both on the pro beach volleyball circuit. So Rick, you know, he can't decide whether to make a play for Ilsa or let Victor have her."

"How were the supporting characters?"

"Oh, they were good. There was a Mexican guy named Sam who was part of this Mariachi band, you know, and he kept singing Can't Get No Satisfaction because that used to be Rick and Ilsa's favorite song. I liked him. Then there was this police captain named Louie Reno. He was a narc and I didn't like him so much."

"What can you tell us about the ending without spoiling it?" Crystal asked.

"Well, Rick, Ilsa, and Victor had a three-way on the beach, you know? It lasted a long time and had lots of cum shots. I don't see how anything could spoil that. Then Ilsa and Victor got jobs on a cruise ship and left. I mean, that guy Rick was makin' it with all the waitresses, not to mention the lifeguards and the stage performers. I don't think you could spoil that part, either."

Magnusson was pointing at his wrist by then, so Crystal thanked Joel for his time and urged everyone to tune in again the next day. Camera 1 started zooming in on her tits but Magnusson made the slit throat gesture and our screens went dark.

"Joel and Crystal, thank you," said Magnusson as everyone returned to their seats. "That wasn't too bad for the first take of the year. Now, class, I'm passing out these audience evaluation cards. Please be honest and rate each aspect of the production. This isn't for anyone's grade, it's just a class exercise. I'll tabulate the results, then tomorrow we'll discuss them and watch the tape. You have the rest of the period to fill out the cards."

"Good job," I congratulated Crystal when she got back to our couch. I was going to give her a pat on the butt, too, but Vivian made an odd little sound and I decided not to press the issue.

When the bell finally rang, Vivian left the room quickly. I think she might have been jealous over the attention Crystal received. Crystal caught up to her, though, and the two of them stood outside the door talking for a couple of minutes.

Nadia stopped long enough to tell me everything was going fine. But before I could ask for details, she was checking messages, making calls, and rushing down the hallway.

Period 3 - English

Crystal was waiting for me in the hall when I left the Communications classroom. We walked together to English, where Sandra had already taken her seat. Crystal noticed her immediately and made a beeline. I saw my life passing before my eyes.

"So, is it true? Are you the one who finally got payback on Nadia Blosser?" Crystal asked excitedly.

By then I was standing behind Crystal, and Sandra looked at me for help. I nodded a couple of times and gave her the "keep it rolling" signal.

"Yes, I guess I did," admitted Sandra.

"Luring her into that makeup salon was sheer genius," Crystal continued. "How'd you know she'd fall for that?"

"Oh, after a while, you get to know when somebody's ready for an appointment," Sandra improvised.

"Have you heard about this?" Crystal asked me.

"Hear about what?" I stalled.

"Well, Sandra here lured Nadia into the salon where she works, and did her up in clown makeup. She even faked the infuser! So Nadia thought she was stuck with a clown face for three months!"

"That seems kind of cruel," I remarked.

"Well, she's my friend and all that, but she had it coming," Crystal explained. "And it was only a scare, not permanent."

"How did you hear about this?" Sandra asked. "I don't remember seeing you at the salon."

"Oh, Nadia told me," Crystal replied. "She was just glad there were no witnesses. Well, except the other operators, of course."

"We like to be called cosmetologists," Sandra corrected her.

"Cometologists, meteorologists, weathermen, I never know the difference," Crystal explained. Thank goodness Mr. Kent wasn't listening for vocabulary terms.

Seats were going fast at that point, so Crystal and I took a couple across the aisle from Sandra. When Crystal started watching the door for Mr. Kent, Sandra faked wiping her brow and gave me a wink. I rolled my eyes and winked back.

When class started, Mr. Kent announced more reading and discussion from the work of Anais Nin. For an English class, it was surprisingly interesting. Then he assigned an essay, due Monday, describing our thoughts on another of her readings. That seemed more like work.

When class ended, Crystal and Sandra resumed their conversation about Nadia. I really felt I should hang around in case things got out of control, but then my PDA signaled a call from Nadia herself.

"Yeah, hang on, this isn't good place to talk," I instantly alerted her. Then I went out to a place in the hall.

"OK, what's up?" I asked.

"It's a go!" Nadia proclaimed excitedly. "Can you and Vivian meet me at Bushie's at four-thirty?"

"Four-thirty works for me. I'll have to convince Vivian, though,"

"OK, well, if you have any trouble with her, let me know. Adam, I'm so pumped! And I think this is only the beginning!"

"It sounds like you're doing great, Nadia. I really appreciate this. Uh, somebody's coming. I gotta go. Four-thirty, right?"

"Right on," Nadia confirmed, then she disconnected.

It was Crystal, of course. Sandra had headed to her locker, which was in the opposite direction. We made good speed to the cafeteria, and the serving line was short.

Lunch

Vivian and Nadia were already at our table when Crystal and I arrived. I sat across from Vivian, and Crystal sat across from Nadia. Ben, Dan, and Teah arrived a few minutes later.

"So, what were you all wearing at five o'clock this morning?" Teah asked excitedly. "I was wearing a t-shirt."

"I always wear gym shorts to bed," said Dan.

"A nightshirt," said Ben.

"Some tap pants," said Nadia.

"Nothing," said Crystal.

"This is a trick question, right?" asked Vivian.

"Nothing," I hated to admit.

"Well, I think this pajama party day is going to be great fun. Does everyone promise to play along?" urged Teah.

"Sure," said everyone except me. Then everyone was looking at me. Suddenly, I wished I'd lied about my bedclothes, or lack thereof. But now it was too late! What was I going to say, "Oh, sorry, I forgot, after being naked all day, I did wear pajamas to bed?" Everyone was still staring so finally I had to say, "OK, sure."

"So, did you talk to your folks about Saturday night?" Dan asked Ben.

"Yeah, they say it's full speed ahead. They're even going to stock up the fridge and the pantry for us."

"Is this a party?" Crystal asked excitedly.

"Well, yeah," said Ben. "I guess everyone's invited."

Instantly, Crystal scooted closer to me and squeezed my arm. Nadia looked disappointed. Vivian stared off into space.

"I might be busy. It depends on how certain things work out," I finally improvised. Crystal let go of my arm.

"Well, I think it's going to be a lot of fun," Teah proclaimed. "Now, what about The Program? I still think we should all sign up to be together." And to prove it, she produced a pack of signup forms.

"I don't know," said Dan.

"I'd rather wait," said Ben.

"Well, look, how about if we all fill out the form but leave the date blank? It'll probably be a while before they get around to us, and then at least we'll be together."

Dan hesitated, but finally agreed to fill out the form without a date. Then Ben agreed, and so did everyone else.

After that, the conversation splintered. Nadia got Crystal talking about pompom routines. Dan and Teah talked about their classes.

"So, you wanna do weights again this afternoon?" I asked Vivian.

"Do you think I should?" she asked idly.

"Well, you seemed to enjoy it Tuesday."

"Yeah, I guess I ain't doing nothin' for a while this afternoon."

"OK, I'll meet you by the weight room then."

"Can you give me a ride home?"

"Sure, but I'll need to make a stop along the way."

"No funny business this time," Vivian declared.

"Just weights," I agreed, and then the bell rang.

Period 4 – U.S. History

As she had on Tuesday, Vivian took a seat on the far side of the classroom, near the windows. Innocently, I took the seat next to her, and that really wasn't a problem. The problem was Gary Fischbak -- still naked from Gym class on Wednesday -- who took the seat just in front of me. Gary's an OK guy, I guess, but I really didn't feel like staring at his naked shoulders and butt crack for an hour.

The girl sitting across from Gary, however, had no such reservations. She was a tall, thin redhead -- auburn, actually -- with a short bob haircut. She was dressed in a white blouse, denim miniskirt, and sandals. What I noticed most, however, were her green eyes. Not only did they contrast vividly with her hair; they were fixed solidly on Gary.

Mr. Laitle entered the room wearing yet another dreary suit. Without ceremony he opened his notes, keyed up his presentation, waited briefly for the bell, and then began speaking.

Christopher Columbus, it seems, was born in Genoa, Italy in 1451. Genoa is a seaport, so of course Columbus wanted to be a sailor. When he was 14, he began sailing on Italian ships. At the age of 25, he was sailing to England and some French pirates attacked his ship. Columbus got hurt, but he grabbed onto some floating wood and made it to shore. I could empathize.

"Rebecca Unger!" Mr. Laitle called suddenly.

The redhead suddenly lost her concentration. "Yes?" she acknowledged.

"Where was Christopher Columbus born?"

Rebecca shared straight ahead for a long time, then uttered a single word. "Ohio?"

"No, Ms. Unger, not Ohio. It was Genoa: the city, not the sausage. Genoa, Italy. Please pay attention."

After his run-in with pirates, Columbus stayed on land for a while. He opened a shop that sold nautical maps and books. A book by Marco Polo interested him immensely. Polo wrote of a Far-Eastern land called the Indies, where he traded for valuable jewels and spices. After reading that book and checking his maps, Columbus decided he could get to the east by sailing west. Rebecca Unger, however, made a different decision. To get Gary's attention, she began slowly unbuttoning her blouse.

In the Indies, Marco Polo traded cheap Italian stuff for valuable jewels and spices. I guess the people in the Indies thought they were trading cheap jewels and spices for valuable Italian stuff. Rebecca seemed ready for business as well. After she freed the last of her buttons, the front of her blouse fell completely open. Her bra was thin and white. Her breasts were overflowing and her abs were killer.

Mr. Laitle explained how Columbus got three ships to try his idea of sailing west. First he asked the King of Portugal, then the King of France, then the King of England, and then the King and Queen of Spain. But they all turned him down. Gary Fischbak didn't seem convinced either; he kept listening intently to Mr. Laitle. Like Columbus, however, Rebecca was persistent. Deftly, she removed the arm nearest Gary from its sleeve.

Eventually, Ferdinand and Isabella, the King and Queen of Spain, gave Columbus three ships, a crew of ninety men, and some money. The three ships, of course, were the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa María. Gary was starting to take more interest in Rebecca, so she withdrew the other arm. The blouse fell down her back and landed on the seat. Mr. Laitle almost said something, but Rebecca stared him down.

Columbus began his voyage on August 2, 1492. The crew was freaked. Nobody knew the Atlantic Ocean, so the crew became afraid of monsters and falling off the end of the earth. When Mr. Laitle turned around to point at the map, Rebecca freed her bra and it fell off the end of her tits. Revealing, logically enough, her own special monsters. Two of them.

"Gary Fischbak!" Mr. Laitle called. "How many men were in Columbus's crew?"

"Ninety," replied Gary, so Mr. Laitle continued.

On September 1, the three ships passed an active volcano on an island named Tenerife. They also saw a bolt of fire fall from the heavens into the sea. That spooked the crew even more. Gary was spooked, too. Rebecca gave him the eye. The green eye. Then she went for the zipper on her skirt.

Columbus kept going, too. After 71 days at sea, the expedition sighted land. Gary had pretty well sighted Rebecca, too. With surprising agility, she lifted her butt and slid the top of her skirt to her knees. From there, it fell to the floor.

Columbus and some of his men rowed ashore and named the island San Salvador. Then, to claim the island for Spain, they planted a flag in the sand. Rebecca's flag, so to speak, was a pair of red bikini panties. And they too, ended up in the dirt. Or on the floor, at least.

Columbus hung around the Caribbean until March, 1493. and then he grabbed a few Indians and sailed back to Spain. The king and queen were happy Columbus got back, and they named him Admiral of the Ocean Sea. But they didn't get the jewels and spices and gold they were hoping for, so the Admiral of the Ocean Sea job didn't actually pay money. Rebecca seemed to have more of a payback in mind. Whenever Gary looked in her direction, she put a finger in her mouth and a hand between her legs.

Columbus returned to America in 1493, 1498, and 1502. He found San Salvador again, and then Cuba, but very few riches. He died a man of average wealth on May 20, 1506 in Spain. That's when class ended, too. Rebecca wadded up her clothes in a ball, handed them to another girl, and stood looking at Gary. Gary, in turn, looked at me.

"What do I do, man?" he asked.

"Follow her lead, dude. I think this is going to work out for you."

Vivian threw me a pained expression and then rushed to her next class. I watched Gary follow Rebecca into the hall, and then I headed into the hall myself.

Period 5 - Math

On my way to Math I made a quick lavatory stop. Quick, that is, for me. I stood with my forearm against the wall for a minute or so, trying to collect my thoughts and ignore the naked girls and sex acts around me. Then, when I felt near the proper state, I single-mindedly shuffled to a urinal, did my mental exercises, felt myself go slightly limp, and finally managed to pee. Then, as I fought off the impulse to pull up a zipper, I felt my cock return to its now normal but regrettable flagpole state. That's when I discovered I had an audience.

One was a freshman girl wearing overalls and a tube top. She remarked, "Kewl," and was then on her way.

The second was a bald, really dark-skinned chick wearing a velveteen leopard print bikini. She looked embarrassed for a second, then gave me a smile and a wink.

The third and last was Paul Aquino, Ethan's partner in the 400-meter relay. I think he was just waiting for me, not watching. "Hey, Adam, you got a minute?" he asked, putting his arm around my shoulder. I glared.

"Oh, sorry," he responded, slapping my butt in apology. At least, that's what I hoped it was. I knew he'd dated various girls. "So, I hear you're erect all the time now."

"That's right," I verified, exiting to the hallway.

"Well, I've been thinking about the same thing. How do you like it?"

"It was a mistake and I think it's a nuisance," I replied.

"Don't girls like it?"

"Some of them do. Others seem to be turned off or intimidated." Not that Paul seemed worried about intimidation. He was bigger soft than I was erect. At least two inches thick by ten long, if you're into that sort of thing.

"Is that natural size for you? I'm surprised you didn't get it enlarged."

"Oh, now that, I asked for," I explained. "But I just got my injection Friday morning. I haven't noticed any difference yet."

"Yeah, it takes about a month or a month and a half to get full size. At least, that's what it took me."

"Do you have trouble finding girls that will take you?" I asked, trying politely to keep the conversation alive.

"No, not usually. I just gotta promise to be careful. This is really about attracting 'em, you know. I figure, if you don't get their attention, you're not going to get anything else, either."

By then we were in Ms. Newton's room. Crystal and Kristin were talking in back, and Ethan was just inside the doorway, waiting for Paul.

"Did you ask him?" Ethan said to Paul.

"Ask what?" I asked.

"Well, you know that guy Hector Straus swam the backstroke in our relay last year. But this year, he hasn't been to a single workout, and he's wearing clothes all the time in class. Paul and I think he might be dropping out."

It was pretty weird with the three of us standing there naked, in a triangle, and almost blocking the doorway. Every time someone came in, they brushed my shoulder, or my hip, or my butt, or whatever. Paul and Ethan, however, showed no intention of moving.

"What, you want me to swim backstroke with you guys?" We were standing close now, so we could hear each other without shouting. We were almost touching. Then we did touch. My cock to Paul's. All very accidental. I certainly wasn't used to sticking out that far. I pulled back immediately, of course, but Paul nevertheless gave me a strange look.

"Sorry, man," I apologized.

"Well, look, Adam. It's going to be the coach's decision, not ours, no matter who the coach turns out to be. But we could make a suggestion if you wanna do it."

"Well, OK," I decided, and then the bell rang. I ended up in the seat nearest the door, with Ethan and Paul across from each other in front of me.

Ms. Newton showed up in ash gray biker shorts and a matching sports bra. And to my chagrin, she left the classroom door open! I didn't suppose very many people would be in the hallway during class time but even so, I felt like some kind of spectacle.

The class material was still review from what we'd learned as juniors. But every time I looked toward Ms. Newton, Paul Aquino seemed to be in the way. So there I was, staring at his naked body. Shoulders, arms, back side, hips, butt, thighs, you name it. His huge cock was just too big to hide.

Looking straight forward, of course, was no better. That left me staring at Ethan. And if I looked sideways very often, Ms. Newton would accuse me of staring out the window or into the hall.

Speaking of sideways, to my left was a girl of average features wearing a prairie dress that covered her neck, wrists, ankles, and everything in between. She stared at the back of Paul's head for a while, then at his shoulders, then at whatever else she could see from her position straight behind him.

She tried paying attention to class for awhile, as did I, but eventually her gaze turned to Ethan. From the corner of my eye I could see her checking out Ethan's hair, shoulders, sides, hips, knees, and feet. Especially the hips. Ethan shifted and the prairie girl nearly jumped out of her seat. This naturally got Ms. Newton's attention, but when she turned in our direction, there was nothing unusual to see. Just three naked guys sitting in math class and minding their own business.

Ms. Newton started lecturing about summation and limits. The prairie girl gave Paul and Ethan another couple of once-overs, and then risked a glance at me. I tried throwing her a smile but her attention was all on my dick. My very hard and erect dick. But after just a second or two of staring at it, the prairie girl's expression turned to horror. In rapid succession she glanced at me, Ethan, and Paul. Then, she closed her eyes and froze for a minute, as if recovering from shock. After that, she devoted her full attention to Ms Newton's lecture.

At first, I thought the girl was just embarrassed by the erection. But surely she'd seen erections at school, in public, or wherever she went. I mean, OK, you know the guy's probably aroused by something, but so what? It's pretty common and it doesn't mean somebody's about to hit on you or anything. And she'd been checking out Ethan's, uh, hips pretty closely.

Eventually I took another glance at her, and she noticed. She looked back and tried to smile, but what came out was revulsion and fear. That's when I figured it out.

She thought I was gay. Or maybe all three of us.

I mean, OK, there we were, obviously talking together like friends before class, and we were sitting together, and we were all smooth and buff for swimming, and I had this erection. I knew the erection was an all-time thing, but she didn't! She probably thought I was hot for Ethan!

I mean, if a person is gay, fine, let 'm be gay. But I wasn't, and I didn't want people thinking I was. So what to do? I couldn't talk to her during class. The classroom equipment blocks PDA communication other than school business whenever a class is in session. I could try to force myself limp, but even if I succeeded I couldn't hold it for the rest of class. And the girl would surely remember what she'd already seen.

Really, there was nothing else I could do. I paid attention to the math lecture, and tried to avoid any obvious interest in Paul or Ethan.

I tried getting the girl's attention after the bell rang, but she was off in a flash. So instead, I just told Paul and Ethan that if I could win tryouts, I'd be glad to swim relay with them. Unfortunately, though, we were still standing near the doorway, and people were bumping into us. And the three of us were still standing too close for comfort. For my comfort, at least.

But what did all this mean? I couldn't be with my friends anymore, at the risk of people thinking I was gay? I wondered who the prairie girl was talking to at that moment.

As for me, I was just needed to get out of there. So I did.

Period 6 - Spanish

The second I reached Spanish class, I sensed trouble. Nadia and Olivia were standing together in the front corner, waving their arms and talking excitedly. I had no idea what they were talking about; I only knew I had to find out.

"I had nothing to do with that," Nadia was insisting as I neared.

"Well, if not you, then who? He wouldn't do such a thing himself!"

"I barely spoke with him. And we never talked about that! Well, not really."

"What?" I asked.

"Olivia thinks I talked her brother into trying out for dance line," explained Nadia.

"Did you?" I asked.

"No, I was just talking to him before Drama class yesterday. He was just telling me how much he enjoyed being on stage, and how much he liked musicals, and how his singing voice wasn't that great. So I asked him if he'd ever considered dance. That's all."

"Are you sure that's all?" I probed.

"I'm sure," she replied.

"Howdy, boys and girls, it's..." I began.

"I know, I know. Adam, I swear, I'm telling the truth. You can double-check it with Juanito."

"That's your brother's name? Juanito?" I asked Olivia with one eyebrow raised.

"Well, sorta," Olivia admitted. "His real name is Juan, but he's been asking people to call him Juanito lately."

"And he takes Drama, he likes musicals, and he wants to dance. Does he take Art and Fashion, too?"

"Well, yeah. How'd you know that?"

"Lucky guess," I admitted, then it was almost time for the bell to ring. I ended up with Nadia and Olivia on my left, Rita and Owen on my right, and Serena in front of me.

Señor Callaghan cruised into the room just as the bell sounded. I always wondered how teachers did that: right on time, never early, never late. Years of practice, I guess.

Callaghan started the class with more karaoke. Oops, I mean more vocabulary. Anyway, he had the whole class reading from the video screen.

book - un libro

calculator - una calculadora

classroom - una aula

desk - un escritorio

homework - la tarea

student - un estudiante

student desk - un pupitre

teacher - un profesor

test - un examen

Now, this wasn't exactly the stuff of Don Quixote or El Cid, but I knew I'd have to learn it sometime. So I did my duty, paid attention, and read along with the class. Then, after ten or fifteen minutes, I felt a twitch.

Remember what I said about being about being erect all the time? It's always hard; it's always warm; occasionally you get jerks, twinges, and maybe even a drop? Well, it was one of those. All three in fact.

paper - el papel

pen - una pluma

pencil - un lapis

Another twitch. Another twinge. Two more drops. Then a really big twitch. I couldn't believe what was happening!

chalkboard - una pizarra

eraser - un borrador

dictionary - un diccionario

map - un mapa

Suddenly and inexplicably, I was spurting. And again. And again. I had no control over it. Not piss, of course, but thick creamy semen. In no time at all, Olivia noticed what was going on and went bug-eyed. Then it was Rita. Then Serena, who noticed the back of her sun suit getting wet. And of course when Serena turned around to see what was going on, Señor Callaghan noticed the situation as well.

"Señor Yonson," he began ominously after reaching my desk. Believe it or not, I was still spurting. Serena had turned around so I'd get her front side.

"Yes?" I replied. Or maybe I should have said, "¿Si?" I'll never know.

"Señor Yonson, this is not acceptable behavior for class. ¿Comprende?"

"Yeah, Mr. Callaghan, I know that, I know. Señor Callaghan, I mean," I babbled. "Look, this just happened. I wasn't, uh, you know, to myself and uh, no one else was, uh, either. It just happened. I don't know why!"

"Thinking nasty thoughts, Señor Yonson?" he asked, after which the whole class snickered.

Then he continued, "Or do you just really like chalkboards, or erasers, or dictionaries, or maps?" The class snickered again.

"Honestly, I don't know why this happened," I explained again. By that time, at least, the spurting had stopped. My erection, of course, continued, and it seemed the whole class was watching it.

Callaghan rubbed his chin a moment, and then turned to Olivia. "I don't suppose you know the cause of this?" he asked, giving her a slow scan. Olivia seemed a little uncomfortable with this, her being naked and all, but the moment passed.

Then Callaghan gave Nadia, Serena, and Rita the third degree as well. Of course, none of them had done a thing except sit there.

"Very well, Señor Yonson," said Callaghan eventually. "Normally, I would send you to the office, but today I'm sending you to the nurse. Perhaps she can get to the bottom of this. Please be so kind as to clean up your desk and then report to the nurse."

In no time at all, Rita removed her blouse and helped me wipe up the seat and the floor. Then, as I was leaving the room, she put it back on. I was just glad to get out of there. I couldn't imagine ever living that down.

On the way to Nurse Nystrom's I stopped at the first restroom, took a pee and rinsed myself off. At least I would smell OK, I thought.

When I arrived at Nurse Nystrom's two other students were already sitting and waiting in the outer office. One was a young girl, probably a freshman or sophomore, dressed in a white blouse, white knee socks, and plaid kilt. I mean skirt. The other was a guy I'd seen around, probably a junior, dressed in a polo shirt and blue jeans. The three of us just stared at each other.

After a few minutes Nurse Nystrom emerged with Willie Fundeman, who'd apparently tripped and cut his finger. The nurse had given him a Band-Aid. Then, she spent about five minutes apiece with the two kids ahead of me. Then suddenly, I was in her examining room.

Nystrom was wearing a traditional nurse's hat and a white surgical top that mostly covered her butt. She opened my file, prepared to take notes, and began asking questions.

"So, Adam, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, this is kind of embarrassing, but I spewed cum all over my desk in Mr. Callaghan's Spanish class."

"You ejaculated?" she confirmed.

I nodded, and then she asked, "Were you masturbating or fooling around with anyone?"

"No, it just happened. I was paying attention to the exercise and then suddenly I was spurting. A lot."

"And you're still erect from that?" she confirmed.

"No, I'm erect all the time," I explained, and then I told her about the confusion with my injection.

"Oh my, isn't that delicious!" she remarked. "Adam, I need to look at your medical records. Is that OK?"

"Sure," I said, and then I transmitted the access codes.

"OK, I can see where that might happen," she declared after examining my file. "And I see you got penis and prostrate enhancement, too. Wow! For these six months, at least, you're gonna be a fun guy."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by that. I can't possibly get involved with students. Well look Adam, I think you had a spontaneous emission, that's all."

"You mean a wet dream? Well, yeah, I did. It was this morning. But how'd you know about that?"

"This morning? Oh my. No, I meant you had a spontaneous emission in Spanish class. Your body accumulated all the semen it could hold and needed to let it out. What time was your morning emission?"

"About 6:15."

"And this afternoon?"

"About 2:15."

"Wow! That's only an eight hour interval! That's some libido you've got there, Adam. You'll be ejaculating a lot more than you did in the past."

"Yeah, but a wet dream every eight hours, even during the day?"

"That would be one solution; you can just wait for the spontaneous emissions, if you like them. But actually, any sort of ejaculation will suffice. And the timing will probably vary, depending on your system and other factors. You'll have to monitor yourself and anticipate. Anything else?"

"Isn't there some way to reverse this?" I pleaded.

"You could talk to your doctor, but I don't think so. You know, once the nanites from an injection dig in, they tend to stay in."

"OK, thanks," I answered glumly. Then naked, erect, and liable to embarrass myself further at any moment, I slowly headed back to Spanish. Then the bell rang and the hallway filled with boisterous students bumping me in their rush to get home. Great, just great. But, with appointments to keep, I changed direction and headed for the gym.

After School

Vivian was waiting for me outside the locker room. By then, I suppose the whole school knew what'd happened, but Vivian's expression was neutral.

"I was going to do weights for an hour or so. Is that OK?" I asked.

"I got time," she replied. "That was the plan, right? Weights? No funny business?"

"I guess you wouldn't really need it. Your injection is on track, right?"

"Oh, yeah. But what's the fun of having muscles if you never lift anything, huh?"

So we did it together, lifting that is, much as we had the day before. Vivian set up her own weights this time and to my surprise, she matched all my weights plus five percent. She did more repetitions, too. I guess she didn't get much of a workout on Tuesday, which was strange because she was supposedly trying to exercise. I began to wonder how strong she really was.

Neither of us initiated any sex, which was fine with me because we only had an hour and I did need to get my drills done.

At four o'clock, the text message I expected from Nadia arrived. Vivian joined me in a nice friendly shower, and then we dried off and got in my car.

After I'd taken a couple of turns, Vivian started complaining, "This isn't the way to my house, Yonson. What's this stop you have to make?"

"I want you to see something, Vivian."

"I've already seen most of you, and the rest I don't care about."

"OK, I'm sorry. It'll only take a minute. We're almost there."

Moments later, I pulled into the parking lot at Bushie's Off-Road and asked Vivian to come inside. She shrugged, then stepped ahead of me and entered the showroom. I caught up a second later.

"We're supposed to meet Nadia here," I explained. "Let her do the talking, OK?"

"Why don't you just tell me to jump off a cliff?" Vivian suggested.

"Trust me, this is going to be all right," I reassured her. I sure hoped Nadia wouldn't prove me wrong.

Just then, Nadia herself came bouncing through the swinging double doors that separated the showroom from the offices and stockroom. She was still wearing the minuscule camouflage outfit.

"Hi, guys. Everything is all set. You're gonna love it," she promised.

"This usually means trouble," Vivian remarked.

"She still doesn't know, does she?" Nadia asked.

"Know what?" Vivian insisted before I could speak.

"Trust me," encouraged Nadia, after which Vivian returned to the topic of cliff-jumping. Nadia, however, would have none of it. Briskly, she ushered us through the double doors and into Otto Bushman's office.

Otto's office wasn't fancy, but it had the look of a remote outpost a thousand miles from nowhere. The furniture was old and wooden, and the walls were loaded with exploring mementos. Ceiling fans spun overhead.

Otto himself was sitting behind his desk, dressed in a bush hat, at least. He was a large, energetic fellow, with the look of spending a lot of time outdoors.

Nadia handed each of us some bottled water, then proceeded to the introductions.

"Otto, let me introduce Vivian Vivicelli and Adam Jonson," she began.

"Yonson," said Vivian.

"Adam and Vivian, this is Otto Bushman, owner of Bushie's Off-Road Shops. We've been discussing the possibility of you two making television commercials and personal appearances to promote Otto's chain of shops."

"Not interested," grumbled Vivian.

"Let's hear her out," I suggested.

"Otto would like the two of you to be seen, around town and on television, driving an open Jeep that's been modified in his shop here. It would have custom tires, custom seat covers, custom gearshift, custom steering wheels, custom off-road lighting, custom satellite positioning, and so forth. It would also have advertising logos painted on the hood, the fenders, the rear, and so forth."

"Not interested," grumbled Vivian.

"If we can come to a handshake agreement this afternoon, Otto will prepare the Jeep tomorrow during the day, we can sign a contract tomorrow afternoon, and we can film the first set of commercials at Dhrystone Lake on Saturday."

"Not interested," grumbled Vivian.

"For these commercials, VAN Enterprises (that's the three of us) will receive a fee of $15,000. That's $5,000 each."

At that, Vivian sat bolt upright, stared at Nadia, and then stared at me.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I was properly prepared for this," she remarked, speaking to everyone but staring a hole through the back of my head. "Are there any other terms and conditions?"

"Yes," said Nadia. "In addition, you, Vivian, will have seven-day, twenty-four hour use of the customized Jeep, except when it's being cleaned, used, or repaired for commercials and appearances. Otto expects you and Adam to be seen driving it around town."

"So, Mr. Busman, except for filming commercials and making public appearances, I would have exclusive use of this Jeep as if it were mine?" Vivian asked.

"Yes, that's right," said Otto.

"That's a very generous offer. What's the catch?"

"None," Nadia explained. "Otto just feels that a lot of people saw you two being rescued on television last weekend, and that commercials showing the two of you driving out of a canyon or under a waterfall or whatever would have a lot of impact. In other words, it would sell a lot of Jeeps and a lot of accessories. Same for commercials showing the two of you setting up camp, cooking, picnicking, and so forth."

"I could drive to school in this Jeep, and use it for getting around town, and so forth. Is that right?" Vivian asked.

"Yes," Nadia confirmed. "In fact, Otto wants you to."

"What about, uh, Yonson here?"

"Otto would love for both of you to be in the Jeep together, but he understands you're not living together, and that driving together won't always be possible."

Vivian turned and stared at me.

"I already have a car," I explained.

Vivian's eyes by now had burned completely through the back of my head. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged.

"I'm very sorry, but as I explained, I don't think I was properly prepared for this," Vivian stated. "Can you excuse us for a moment?" And then, with her bottled water in one hand and me in the other, she dragged me into the hallway and behind a shipping crate.

"This is you, isn't it, Yonson?" she asked brusquely.

"Actually, it was Otto's idea," I replied. "I got a message from him Tuesday morning."

"And how does Nadia fit into this?" Vivian asked, taking a drink.

"She gonna be our agent," I replied, at which Vivian spewed water all over the shipping create. I think she got some in her nose, too. "She's also our vice president of marketing. I think she's doing an excellent job, don't you?"

"Yeah, this is you all right, Yonson," Vivian replied, having regained her composure. "Damn, though. Havin' my own Jeep. Bein' on television. Makin' big bucks as an outdoorsy chick. How come you didn't warn me about this?"

"I thought it was better as a surprise. Oh yeah, and I thought you might not believe me."

"Well, I'm gonna hear this out, Yonson, but I'm not makin' any promises," she said. Then, she spun around and headed toward the office. Once inside, she sat with head erect, back straight, knees together, and hands on her lap. It was perfect charm school posture, but on Vivian it looked a little strange. Especially without clothes.

"Could I deliver pizzas in this Jeep?" she asked.

"Yes, unless it's a problem with Kaunadodo Pizza," Nadia confirmed.

"What would be our obligations for the $15,000 fee?" Vivian asked smoothly. It was really odd to hear her talk that way. In fact, it was downright freaky, even if she did ace Senior English as a junior.

"That's for driving up to the lake Saturday, four to six hours of shooting, and driving home. If the commercials are successful -- that is, if sales go up enough -- you start getting bonuses. If there are any additional shootings or appearances, VAN Enterprises would receive additional fees," Nadia explained.

"Last weekend, the news people discovered us in rather intimate circumstances. I gather this resulted in a degree of notoriety. Are you expecting us to repeat that?" Vivian asked.

"No, but if you want to, I can put you in touch with my brother," Otto replied. "He runs Pinky's Winks and Kinks."

"Perhaps some other time," Vivian deferred. "Now, for how long would I have the use of this Jeep?"

"As long as it keeps bringing in business," Otto replied. I think he was getting impatient with Nadia, Vivian, or both.

"A couple of months, at least," he continued. "Maybe as much as a year. We'll see how business is running. Of course, when the new models come out, we'd have to make a switch."

"Do you mean to an older model?" Vivian asked suspiciously.

"No, no, to the new model. If you don't want people keeping their old vehicle, you need to show 'em a new one."

"Would you excuse us again, please?" Vivian asked politely. This time she dragged Nadia as well as me behind the shipping crate.

"Yonson, you swear this is legitimate?" she asked.

"Yes, Vivian, I do."

"How we gonna handle the contracts and the money?" Vivian asked.

"I've been talking to your mom, Adam," Nadia announced. I'm not sure why that made me queasy, but it did.

Nadia then continued, "She knew the lawyer who did the contracts for those real estate commercials you mentioned. His name is Edgar Robinsong. I called him, and if I get this information to him by five-thirty today, he can have standard contracts ready and meet us here at four tomorrow afternoon. Otto and his lawyer can be here at the same time."

"What's this VAN Enterprises" Vivian wanted to know.

"It's a partnership of the three of us," Nadia explained. "Any money we earn goes into the partnership, and we can each draw money out, up to our share. Mr. Robinsong recommended a CPA named Lucy Lastic to manage it for us."

"What if somethin' here don't work out?" Vivian asked.

"We automatically renegotiate after sixty days."

"Your mom really knows this lawyer?" Vivian asked?

"I'm sure she does," I confirmed.

"I'm probably gonna regret this, but OK, let's do it," said Vivian.

Woo! Yes! I love it when a plan comes together!

Nadia let out a tremendous breath, then we all shook hands and filed back into Otto's office

"What about getting the Jeep ready and scheduling the camera crew?" I asked.

"If we shake hands on this today, I can get the Jeep ready tomorrow," Otto promised. "And there's a video company I work with all the time. We were going up toward the lake anyway. I'll give 'em a call and I'm sure they'll be ready."

"Do we have a deal?" Nadia asked, then we all look around and saw each other nodding. We all shook hands and it was done.

Nadia and Otto compared notes on the deal, and we all wished each other luck. Nadia headed over to Edgar Robinsong's office and I got in the car to drive Vivian home. Vivian, however, just stood outside the driver's side window. And she was staring at me again with that look.

"What?" I asked.

"Why?" she replied.

"I'm making $5,000. So are you. So is Nadia. Isn't that a reason?"

"No, somethin' else 's goin' on here, Yonson. You wanna tell me about it?"

I could hardly believe the way Vivian was alternating between proper English and street talk. It made her seem like two different people. I began to wonder which of them, if either, was the Vivian I knew, and which was genuine.

"There's nothing to tell, Vivian," I reassured her. Then I got back out of the car and stood facing her.

"Yeah, and Nadia went straight," Vivian quoted cynically. "And I get a tricked-out ride out of this, and you don't, and it doesn't bother you. I'm sure you coulda steered that Jeep toward yourself."

"I told you: I already have a car."

"What about that business with delivering pizza? Unless it's a problem with Kaunadodo Pizza?"

"Well, if Mr. Kaunadodo wants you to use the pizza joint's car, then I guess you'd have to use the pizza joint's car."

"That bucket of bolts? It barely runs and he's always payin' to have it fixed. Naw, if I could drive somethin' else, that'd be fine with him."

"Well, all right, then. I mean, it was Nadia who said that. Ask her what she meant. Are you going to get in?"

"Yeah, I guess," she replied, walking around the hood and plopping her naked butt on the car seat. At least she didn't have to worry, as I did, about getting tangled in the steering wheel.

We were already halfway to her aunt's apartment when Vivian remembered she was supposed to start work at five. "Would you mind dropping me off at Kaunadodo's?" she asked.

"No problem," I replied, making a U-turn. Fortunately, Kaunadodo's wasn't far and I dropped her off in plenty of time.

Only when I'd driven away, however, did I realize how exhausted I was. Not physically, but mentally. I was angry, too. But somewhere deep inside, I realized Vivian wasn't as hard and ungrateful as she seemed. I knew she'd had a tough life growing up, and that made her defensive and suspicious. I guess I'd realized the nature of that, but not the depth. I began to wonder if my plan for her was justified or whether it cut too deep. I wondered if I was making decisions for her that she needed to make herself.

Mom was just serving dinner when I got home. There was really no time to get dressed, nor any point, so I just sat down and ate. Dad asked about my day, so I gave him a quick run-through of my classes. Later, I mentioned that Bushie's might want me and Vivian to do some commercials, but I didn't make a big deal out of it.

When Dad asked about the amount, however, and when I'd told him, he certainly made a big deal of it. He wasn't angry or anything; he was just excited at the prospect of it. Of course, neither of us knew whether the deal would actually go through.

Mom and Dad were both worried that I might be getting conned or cheated, but then I told them Edgar Robinsong was handling the legal details. After that, they felt much better.

After dinner I called Mr. Sudstrom at Game Gear and Garb. He confirmed that Nadia had been talking with him, and that it was OK for me to do filming on Saturday rather than working at the store.

With that resolved, I started my homework. After being naked all day in public, I didn't see much point in getting dressed for the last few hours at home.

About nine-thirty Nadia called to reassure me the contracts would be ready after school on Friday. I congratulated her on making a great deal, of course, and asked how she'd done it.

On Wednesday she left Eisenblush early, then cased Bushie's Off Road, and then went to the mall for the camouflage outfit. After that she returned to Bushie's, convinced the hard-case customer to buy $1,500 worth of accessories, then met with Otto before he closed at nine o'clock.

Then, all through the day on Thursday, she'd worked the phones with Otto and some other contacts who might buy advertising space on the Jeep. Game Gear and Garb, for example, had signed up for a rear fender. Bald Mountain Fuels took the other rear fender, and was supplying all the hydrogen. She'd finished negotiating with Otto only minutes before Vivian and I arrived. After our meeting with Otto, she'd gone straight to Edgar Robinsong and given him the terms of the deal. Edgar would call Otto's lawyer during the day on Friday.

I have to say, I was impressed. Nadia's actions proved I'd made exactly the right choice in selecting an agent and a partner. I trusted her implicitly. Of course, it helped to know that Edgar Robinsong was my mom's brother.

After finishing the call with Nadia, I finished my homework and did my weights. Then, I felt a twitch. With no other recourse, I went in the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub, and drained myself. It didn't take much, just a couple of gentle touches. Then, as long as I needed to rinse the tub, I took a piss and a quick shower as well. Then I brushed my teeth, changed my sheets, and fell asleep. It was too late to put on pajamas. I should have done it the day before.

Many thanks to Bill Morgan for proofreading this story.