~~Fearleader~~
Chem-teach Russel yelled out, "Get'yer asses ready! Ten minutes or lose the credit!"
"Fuckfuckfuck, why didn't he say we had to participate?" I was more than frustrated, beyond panicking, and further from ready than anyone else here. Still in my school uniform, I’d wanted only to make sure that the props and lights were set for tonight. Instead, I learned at the last minute that we had to be here for the class Haunted School event.
"Dude, chill. Just put something on real quick and your creds are in the bag." Wayne, ever relaxed, leaned back on one of the lamps. It was not screwed down or anything, so it fell, and him with it. "Ouch! Damn, uh...mind giving me a hand, Shane?"
"Yeahyeah." Reaching down, I grabbed the hand he threw up at me. Immediately, I let him go when I saw the strobe lamp’s broken neck.
"Hey!"
"You broke—Never mind. If the bulb’s still good, we can set it up on a shelf. It's powerful enough for the whole room." Turning towards the door, I saw that the hall was clear. "Go set that on the closet shelf. Don't close the door! I'll be back after I find something to put on."
"Really? You gonna go to the store with what, nine minutes left?"
"Maybe eight, but no. I'm sure I'll find something in the closed-off section."
"The construction site?"
"De-construction site, but yeah. There may be nothing but garbage in there, but it might be garbage I could throw on."
"Go for it."
A class project with only two participants. That was how well Mr. Russel, our homeroom-slash-chemistry teacher, communicated with us. I wasn’t too sure how he’d react to everyone bitching at him tomorrow, but I wasn’t going to take the chance that he’d fail us all.
Getting my mind off of that, I ran down the halls, down the spiraling steps, hitting the ground floor and racing for the other end of the school. It took three minutes. I had maybe a minute to find something and change.
I burst through the unhinged doors, clipping my head on one of the bars holding the door shut and bruising my shoulder. I didn't care. My grades were more important than minor injuries.
"Okay, thirty seconds. Wherewherewhere?" Inside the wreckage, I could see the old rooms, nothing more than cubical husks. There were a few desks, twisted and snapped in different directions from the wrecking crew. Other rooms had stationary desks for the teachers, but all that was left of them were the bolted-down legs.
Nearly every closet was absolutely destroyed. I crossed my fingers, praying that there would be a hoodie or something left behind. I could use this dust and debris to look like a zombie, or at least someone in really bad shape. I could finish it off with some of the red paint back in the classroom.
But I didn’t intend to ruin my own clothes for that shit.
After a minute, I still hadn’t found a thing. I was about to call it quits and head back, maybe ask Wayne to switch clothes with me, like he'd care. Besides, I felt he owed me something using my family’s cozy indoor pool almost every day.
Something flashy caught my eye in a pulverized closet. Kneeling down, I uncovered it.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Holding it up, I could make out what I’d found: a cheerleader outfit. It had our school’s name and mascot, but the colors were wrong: Brown and red instead of blue and yellow. There were a pair of pom-poms, too!
I didn't have time to complain. I got undressed in record time, then whipped the costume around to make sure there were no bugs or fiberglass on it, and put it on.
"Holy shit, this is tight! Come on..." I tried, but the damn jersey wouldn’t go around my ribs and waist. I finally managed to get it down when I sucked in my stomach. Wiggling my hips, I got the pleated skirt to fit around my bare thighs. I nearly broke the zipper yanking the zipper up, but the whole thing fit. Barely. "Time to rock 'n' roll!" I threw my shoes on and high-tailed it back.
I was late. I could already hear the doors opening and the muffled voices of the guests coming in. If anyone saw me leaving the closed-off section, I could get into serious trouble for messing with stuff back there or, like, secret drug deals, I dunno! That was what went through my mind.
I had to think quickly. "Well, they came for a scare." Sucking in, puffing out my chest, and clapping my pom-poms, I ran out. Screaming!
Everyone was startled to see me charging at them. They actually backed off and clustered in the front doors, preventing anyone else from coming in. I ran around the corner and raced up the spiral staircase. I raced to my room and collapsed in a huff.
"Whow! Uh, hi?" Wayne looked just as startled as the neighbors. I grinned and waved a pom-pom at him.
"Hey. Found something." Okay, this could give me some time to catch my breath. Then what? Do I start screaming again? No, they already got that from the front door, and I didn't like repeating the same trick twice.
"Wait, Shane? That you?" I nodded. He looked me over, then shook his head. "Dude, that is some wicked costume. Where the Hell did you get all of that and the time to put it on?"
I waved him off, gesturing that I still needed to recover my breath.
"Okay, I get'cha. That was quick work." He was laughing as he pointed to the light on the closet shelf. "That good?" I nodded, gulping, finally relaxing a little.
"Yeah." I looked around to make sure that there wasn't going to be anything obstructing the flashes. If something caught, its shadow would ruin the effect.
Another minute had gone by, and we could hear the sound of voices echoing up the staircase. Beneath us, we heard other classes initiating their own chorus of scares. It would be our turn soon enough. I wondered what the rest of our hall had in store.
Lifting my ass off the floor, I peeked out the classroom door. Some people came into our hall; doors popped open and students burst forth for a jump-scare.
"Okay, that's ruled out." Had to think of something. I scanned the room for something that would work. Paint! Nearly forgot about that. "Wayne, grab me the paint!"
"...Dude, your voice sounds funny."
"We don't have time for this. They're outside! Come on, just throw it—FUCK!" Wayne threw it alright. All over me and onto the door and floor. It was pooling, a red mess on my hair and face, running down my front to puddle beneath me. I had to use the door handle to get up in fear of slipping.
When I did get up, my eyes widened and my shoulders sagged at the sight of my regular clothes, splattered with the red paint. I reached down to pick them up, but decided against it. Instead, I glared at Wayne, shaking my head. He gave me this sheepish smile and shrugged. That just pissed me off more.
"Turn the fucking lights on." I had something in mind now. If I was going to be a painted-red cheerleader, I might as well add a little flair. Besides, I could work out the anger by dancing it off. Maybe I could do something with Thriller.
The strobe light’s first flash blinded me for a second. I turned to face the door, then stepped towards it without recollecting the little slip-hazard on the floor. My foot slid forward and kicked the bottom of the door, just as I reached for the handle to open it. The door creaked open with my weight pulling on the hinges.
Keeping still, I worried that I might have ruined our first scare. There were hemispherical mirrors in the hall; I glanced to see what the grown-ups were up to. My accident had caused some people to look for the source of the creepy noise, and they apparently noticed the red pool seeping out from the classroom.
"Lucky," I whispered.
Watching the mirror, I waited for those people to get closer. The strobes of light found their rhythm behind me, flashing faster and stronger. They threw strange shadows onto the wall. That gave me the best idea yet.
Maneuvering in front of the light, I stood still for only a second before stretching out my arms. The pom-poms in my hands looked almost like severed heads, held by their hairy scalps. I started dancing like a cheerleader at a football game. Taking a pose, I whirled one pom-pom over my head. I kinda regretted that as some of the paint began to shake and shower down on me.
I threw my arms out, flicking paint off the pom-poms. Unfortunately, the guests were a little too eager to see what was going on. Flecks of red hit them, causing them to back off and look at one another.
"Oh shit!" Now I was in trouble. I knew they would complain about the paint getting on them. All I could do was keep up the act and hope I got a good grade to balance out whatever punishment I had coming.
I twirled around, keeping my back to them, hiding my face. I heard the folks walk in...
The first person slipped on the floor, and I heard someone curse as they shuffled around. It sounded chaotic behind me. I knew the strobe-lights were flashing them blind, which could help me, but it was probably just pissing them off. I didn't like jump scares, but I needed to improvise something, and fast.
When they reached me, I felt a hand touch my shoulder for a moment. They pulled away, saying: "Eww, wha–blood?" Oh, that was really good! In that moment of confusion, I jumped and faced them with a big beaming smile. That was when the disgusting paint ran down my lips into my mouth. I almost cringed, but seeing their wide-eyed, speechless response, I started laughing instead.
They actually ran, slipped, and scrambled out of the door. I couldn't believe it! "We did it!" Then I spit out the paint.
"Oh, fuck!” Wayne said. “Okay, Shane, we have our number. Keep this up and we'll score big time!"
I ran to the sink and rinsed out my mouth. "Do you think they’ll let the paint slide?"
"Who the fuck cares ma—ma'am." Glaring at him over my shoulder, I flipped him the bird before going back to shut the door. We turned the light off and readied for the next wave.
After a few hours, we finally heard the bell signal the end of the night. I collapsed on the floor, tired as fuck, my head pounding. Wayne flipped on the light switch. Despite my eyes adjusting to the strobe-lights, the overhead ones still made me flinch. I blinked to adapt, then looked around at the splattered paint.
"We need to clean this up." I gestured for Wayne to grab a rag from the sink. I restrained myself from rubbing my irritated eyes, in fear of getting paint in them. It took me a moment to realize Wayne hadn't moved.
Looking up, I saw the odd expression on his face.
"What?"
"Shane?"
"Yeah?"
"Okay, just checking." He turned on the faucet to dampen the rag. I got up to wash this sticky paint from my hands. True, they’d probably get stained again when I washed the floor, door, and walls, but I just needed to feel clean, if only for now.
Scooting next to Wayne, I put my hands under the faucet to rinse off the paint. I managed to clear them up well enough before applying the first couple squirts of soap. Again, I noted that Wayne was watching me, up close this time. In fact, he was inspecting my hands.
"Hey, what's up?" His eyes met mine. He looked over my face for another second, then he just kept on looking at me. Like, really looking at me from head to toe. He gave me a nod, as if he’d come to some conclusion, but I hadn't a clue. "Wayne? You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Hey, just hang back and get cleaned up. I'll take care of the mess. Okay?" That surprised me. He was usually more laid back.
"You sure?"
"Of course. You were the one prancing around for hours. I just flipped the light switch." That was very fucking true. I nodded and accepted the offer by soaping up my arms.
"Hey, use the shower," Wayne said.
"What?" I nearly laughed. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the safety shower. It was designed to be pulled, so a student or teacher covered in chemicals could quickly strip and wash them off. I really didn't feel like taking a cold shower, but noticing how these clean arms felt compared to my sticky red body, I could probably tolerate it.
"Don't worry, I'll lock the door so nobody comes barging in. Besides, I don't want someone slamming the door in my face while I clean up that puddle you made."
Glaring back at him, I said: "You’re the one who threw it at me."
"You told me to!"
"I didn't mean for you to literally throw it!"
"What, you wanted me to toss the can at you?"
"No, I meant for you to bring it over!"
"Why didn't you just say that?" He threw his hands in the air and turned around to clean that puddle with a soaked rag. His shoulders drooped; he looked back at me and said, "Sorry."
I shrugged. "It's cool. It added a special effect to the whole event." I headed for the shower and yanked on the trigger. Brown and rusty, the water spurted out a few times before coming out more clear. I waited until it was pure before getting under it.
I pulled the zippers down, expecting to feel relief from the constriction. Not really. I guess the outfit had stretched out to fit better. With a shrug, I took hold of the band around the skirt and pulled it off. I easily removed the jersey, too.
Breathing out a little laugh, I threw the outfit into the shower drain so it could rinse off while I did. First, I leaned over and poked my head under the stream to get the paint out of my hair. I shivered when the cold water flushed down my bare back. I gritted my teeth; there was no way to get accustomed to it, so I’d have to bear it all at once.
Stepping forward and straightening up to stand tall under the shower, I muttered a curse and allowed my whole body to get the freezing treatment. I scrubbed at my hair and the back of my neck before I opened my eyes again.
Wayne was staring wide-eyed at me.
"What?" I asked, spitting water off of my lips.
"...Nothing," he said, shaking his head. He looked me up and down, then turned his bright red face away to work on the equally red floor.
Now I felt a little self-conscious about being in my underwear to shower. This felt very different from showering after a dip in the pool. It was like he...was he checking me out? As if tonight didn’t give me enough of a migraine.
Keeping my eyes on him, I ran my hands over one shoulder, then the other, getting the last traces of the paint off. As I did that, my hands brushed down each arm, but I also felt my chest get in the way. That caused me to glance down and stare at myself.
No amount of cold water could compare to the chill I felt at seeing a pair of breasts.
I began to inspect myself and saw my figure had slimmed in an odd way. Well, it would be an odd way for a guy, but perfect for a girl. It became obvious why the cheerleader outfit slipped off more easily than when I put it on.
I ran a palm over the subtle firmness of my flat stomach before reaching down around my hips. They were more flared than before. Maybe it was because my waist had tapered to my pelvis? Running my hand around, I felt a more pert tush than I recalled.
Now, I wasn't a thick-set guy before, but I wasn't anywhere near this trim. I now definitely had an athletic build. Specifically, a cheerleader's attractive figure for the fans to appreciate. It took a moment before something in my head clicked.
At that thought, my hand shot down into my underwear to feel around. I stood up on my toes and fell back against the slick wall, not caring about the cold water any longer. What should have been in my drawers wasn't. It wasn't there! I felt around the coarse hair, but something else was there, and I didn't have any appreciation for it.
My chest seized up like I was choking. My breathing became tougher, shorter, almost down to a gasp. I removed my trembling hand and stood still. I hugged myself, trying to calm down and stop shaking. I don't know how, but a very big something had gone wrong tonight. And my greatest worry had been getting a bad grade or splashing paint on somebody.
"Wa-Wayne?" He looked back up at me. For a moment, he didn't do anything. I kept shaking, not sure what to do or how I should respond to anything. Then his expression changed and he scrambled to stand and run towards me, nearly face-planting in the process. If I’d been okay, I'd probably laugh at him. I was not okay!
He didn't say anything. Taking one more look at me, he hesitated for only a second before holding his palms out, as if to show he didn't mean any harm. After shutting off the water, he carefully pulled me away from the wall, then drew me into his arms and held me. He hugged me, keeping me steady, even though I felt my whole body shake like a leaf in the wind.
I don't think he knew what was going on either, but his earlier interactions with me made a little more sense now. Keeping his cool, like he always did. That thought made me smile. In fact, I felt a little better, soothed, as he stroked my back. Swallowing a gulp of air and closing my eyes, I relaxed in his arms.
"Sorry," I heard him say.
"For what?"
"I didn't know you'd freak out like that. I figured Shane...uh, you, I guess, were playing a prank."
Thinking it over, I guess it would look that way. Running out on him and coming back looking like this would be highly suspicious.
Gently, I returned his hug. "I...I'm—"
"Shane, yeah, I know. With the light on, I can tell. You look like you could be your sister, but I know you don't have any. Unless you’re his cousin?" I smacked the back of his head to clear that thought out. "Ouch! Okay, definitely Shane."
"Awrrrright! Who's dah asswipes that threw paint on the guests!?" We both went rigid in each other's arms when we heard Mr. Russel yelling down the hall. Wayne yanked me off to the side and down onto the floor. Reaching up over our heads, he flipped the light off and shushed me.
We sat still, waiting in the dark, as Mr. Russel went around asking questions. I peeked through the door window to spy on him via the mirrors in the hall. He wasn’t stopping at every classroom door. It was like he was only selecting classes with a chick participating.
He completely skipped our classroom.
I didn't realize I’d been holding my breath until after I gasped. Apparently Wayne had too. We both tried to keep quiet while nervously laughing.
We celebrated a little too soon. The door to our classroom rattled as Russel jiggled the locked handle. He knocked a few times and tried the door again, and I watched through the mirror as he turned to probably ask the class across the hall about us. Again, we held our breath.
After a minute of talking, Russel left the door alone to head off somewhere else. Our gasp was much louder this time, and my forehead sunk onto Wayne's shoulder. This was all a bit too much for me. I was exhausted from tonight's event, stressed by the trouble I was in, wet and cold, and feeling trapped and out of breath. I’d probably had a panic attack. I needed a break. And Tylenol.
I felt Wayne's hand come up behind my drenched hair and smoothly rub the back of my head; my headache melted away. Closing my eyes again, I simply let him continue massaging my head. I appreciated it. His touch drove away the pain and stress besieging me.
"Shane? Let me give you my shirt." I opened my eyes and nodded before pulling off of him enough to allow the space he needed.
In the dark, I watched him unbutton the front of his shirt. It had never occurred to me how in shape he was, especially for someone who took it so damn easy during gym. It amazed me. Like he didn't feel like putting any effort into anything physical. It kinda made me jealous. I guess it wasn't that he lacked motivation, but rather that he didn't have to apply himself to meet the requirements. Maybe visiting my family’s pool almost every day had something to do with that?
Still, I watched the faint shine of the hall light glistening on his smooth chest. He’d probably gotten wet from hugging me. Looking down, I saw how prominent his abs were. They didn't have that body-builder appearance, but I could see them tighten when he curled back against the wall, then vanish when he straightened up to loosen the shirt from his invitingly-warm torso.
When he finished unbuttoning, I reached a hand out to the sleeve of his shirt—just to hold it. I didn't intend to grab his arm. Nor did I mean to pull him closer to me. In that moment, I should have said something, apologized and let him finish getting his shirt off, but I froze. My thoughts were still stuck trying to sort out what trouble I was in, what I’d become, and how much colder and more uncomfortable I felt when he stopped holding me.
In the next moment, he wrapped his arms back around me and embraced me more actively. I felt better. I’d intended to lay my forehead down on his shoulder to rest. I felt his arms lift me, and I moved with his effort to straddle his lap.
I asked myself what I thought we were doing. Each time I tried to answer, I felt less comfortable. When he held me, without my thoughts getting in the way, the soothing warmth and grace of his half-bared body brought the comfort back. After this troublesome night, I really wanted what he was offering me. I relaxed in his arms and leaned on him.
I wasn’t really sure how long we held each other like this, but I knew something changed when I shifted over his lap. I felt him below me. It was one thing to feel comforted by him, another to have any kind of attraction... I didn't! It was obvious he found me attractive now. As for me? I wasn't feeling any kind of attraction to him. I mean, he's a guy and I certainly had been a guy. I’d had no choice in what had happened to me. Why would I choose to further this girly problem by feeling something for him?
I lifted my head from his shoulder, but paused as I brushed along his jaw and cheek. His hand went over the back of my head again, and that soothing touch took away the stress of my thoughts. Instead, without trying to concentrate on it, I breathed him in and sat still. Then I inhaled more deeply when his raised hips pressed a hard length along me.
All I could manage was to pull a little further back from his face. What stopped me this time was his lips pressing against mine. If I had felt warm in his arms before, now I felt hot. There was a fuzzy feeling at first, but it melted away with my yielding lips. He pressed, an assault of his tongue against my mouth, and for some strange reason I opened the gate for his entry. By reflex, I held onto him much more tightly than I ever had done to anyone before. I crushed myself against him.
I’d known Wayne for so long, I didn’t even remember how we’d first met! It was like we had always been together. Now we were more attached than we had ever been. We’d never thought of something like this. Then again, I couldn’t think of anything other than what he had managed to give me: A resolve against this overwhelming night. With him, I felt free from any burdens.
We went with the flow of the darkness. Whatever we had done in that classroom stayed in that room, and it wasn't until morning that we made our escape. Of course, I did wear his shirt, and we sneaked back to his home. It would take until later in the day for us to figure out what to do about my current condition, but for the moment, I enjoyed dreaming and snuggling under the covers with him.
