Odd Girl Meets Pretty Girl, Chapter Two
English class is my least favorite class next to Algebra. Well, I don't actually hate English, I hate the teacher, Mr. Parker. He's a grossly overweight orange Persian cat who talks in monotone and wears plaid. His fur is untidy, he smells, he smokes, he's lecherous and always hits on the girls if they arrive early or late. Sometimes he'll ask you to stay late just so he can ask you about your "female issues." The day I got my period was a nightmare, because Mr. Parker was the first to spot it. It was two years ago in my freshman year.
Mr. Parker said, "Miss Johanssen is everything alright?"
"What?" I said.
"It's called a condom Miss Johanssen," Mr. Parker said.
I heard Stacy and Shawna snicker. Donna grinned and pretended to cough into her hand. I was so upset I just shoved all my stuff into my bag and rushed from the room. I didn't tell anyone about it, I wasn't sure they'd believe me or think I was just looking for some attention.
But today I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about my invitation to Donna's party. What I should wear? Should I bring anything? Or was this just a cruel trick to humiliate me, again. I didn't want to think about what they had in store for me.
Then I thought about Vanessa.
My stupid bra, stupid back closure.
"Need some help?" a voice said.
I peeked over my shoulder and there was Vanessa, naked but for a pair of black boy shorts and hr wet hair cascading down her shoulders and over her breasts. Before I could say anything she stepped over to me and fastened my bra behind me.
"There you go," she said, petting my back.
"Thank you," I said.
Vanessa smiled and put her hands on my shoulders. She kissed my cheek, then my shoulder. She unsnapped my bra and gently turned me around to face her. Backing me up against the lockers, she kissed my lips, softly at first and then a little harder. She put her arms around my waist and pressed herself up against me. Her hair fell back a little and I saw her breasts, small but rounded like globes with pale rose pink nipples. She kissed up my bra strap, then down it, slipping it off my shoulder. She kissed the outline of my bra and kissed up my other bra strap and slipped it off my shoulder. She slid my bra off and let it drop to the floor and cupped my breasts, then- RING! RING! RING!
That stupid fucking bell!
Mom didn't seem to care when I told her about the party other than that I call if I'm going to be late. She took me shopping for an outfit, not that I was sure I needed one. Nothing looks good on me. We went to Bloomingdale's first. They didn't have anything! Well, nothing in a proper size 12 that fit me or fit me right. I found this really pretty green halter dress, but it was really tight around my bust and waist and the zipper got caught in my fur. Mom ripped out a tuft when she pulled the zipper free.
Then I found a pale pink dress with gold trim, the fabric was stretchy on this one but it didn't fit right. It hugged my figure tightly and made me look four inches bigger around.
"Maybe you should cut back on the sweets," Mom said.
Next we went to Macy's. We had a little better luck there. I picked out three dresses- a little black dress with noodle-straps, a rose pink strapless dress, and a white dress like the one Marilyn Monroe wore. They were all nice, but the black dress was too tight, the pink dress kept slipping and exposing my breasts, and the collar of the white dress was too low and exposed a lot when I bent over.
Then Mom knocked on the dressing room door and passed me a powder blue dress. It was really pretty. It was sleeveless with a semi-low-cut v-neck collar. Around the bust it was trimmed with gold and the hem of the dress fell in loose pleats just a couple inches past my knees. It fit well, though a little snug, and the zipper didn't get caught in my fur.
Then mom rushed me to the lingerie department. The dress wouldn't look good with a regular bra, so Mom tried to find me a strapless bra, but there aren't many stores that carry a 42D. We went to four different stores. Either the bra was too tight or the cups were too small or they were too big or I had little support. We bought three different bras in different styles and colors.
I think Mom was just happy that I might be able to make some friends, as if that would ever happen.
Saturday came fast. Mom fussed over me for an hour. She even tried to get me to wear a girdle so the dress would fit better. It was so painful, I could barely breathe so I just took it off.
I tried on each of the bras with the dress. The simple black bra was too visible through the dress. The white bra with lace was almost obvious as the lumps of the lace could be seen clearly. The simple white bra, if a little tight, and the cups were kind of small, was the best out of all three.
I brushed my hair. I pulled it back into a bun but Mom said I should leave it down. She was right, for once.
Then I decided I didn't want to go. My tummy felt icky, I had a feeling something bad was going to happen.
"You're just nervous," Mom said.
When we pulled up to Donna's house I felt my stomach turn over inside me, but Mom sust pushed me out of the car. She gave me a coat and my purse, which had some cash and my cell phone in it, waved goodbye and drove away.
I don't know why I agreed to come. It was horrible. Everyone else was dancing and I just confined myself to the couch.
I know I couldn't spend the whole night on the couch, but I was too afraid of being laughed at by everyone if I asked someone to dance.
Things seemed to turn around when Donna and Shawna came up to me and pulled me on the dance floor. Thank goodness I took those belly dancing lessons. Everything seemed alright, until two boys, labs named Chad and Jake, from the football team came up and sandwiched me between them. I pushed against them, out of the crowd Stacy appeared with a video camera, it only seemed to egg Chad and Jake on. Jake squeezed my breasts and butt and I smacked him. Chad put his hands on my waist, both he and Jake ground their hips against my hips and my ass, amidst the grins and laughter of everyone surrounding us. I managed to get away from them. My eyes began to water, I immediately rushed to the nearest bathroom and sat down on the toilet.
I buried my face in my hands, wondering what I should do. I wanted to go home but I'd left my coat and purse outside and I wasn't about to go outside after what had just happened. Tomorrow my face would probably be on FurTube and viewed by everyone at school and around the world.
My eyes watered, tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them away but they wouldn't stop. Then someone knocked at the door.
"Just a minute," I said, trying to sound calm.