Date: Sun, 13 Oct 2002 00:56:22 +0800 From: Dave Macdiarmid Subject: Rainy Day Part 1 Rainy Day Part 1 By MadC Feedback of all kinds is always appreciated at the_mac@dbzmail.com This is a slightly different kind of vibe to most of the stuff on Nifty, so let me know if you like it. It rained all day, and never really seemed to get light, so cars going past the fence had their lights on, making the wet playground shine yellow as they passed. There had been a lot of wet, dark days that November; Sam had only been going to this school for a month or so, and she didn't think she'd ever seen it in the sun. It was one of the reasons she hated the place, but not the only one. The buildings were old and badly-maintained, all bare concrete and crumbling plaster and peeling grayish paint. The ring-road was only a few hundred metres away, and so were the train-tracks. If you stood in the playground you could see the road and the rails twisting over each other, tunnels and bridges, always busy, and even when you went inside you could still hear the noise. The school was so old and poorly-designed that you had to leave the main building to get to the toilets, across the playground in a little block of their own. Sam hated the buildings, and she hated the uniform too. They had to wear uniforms at her old school, which had been a bit posh, and she hadn't really minded, but the uniforms here were horrible, all grey and maroon. It wasn't even posh, this place, it was just a nondescript comprehensive in the suburbs of a nondescript little industrial town. It was a dump. The reason they had to wear uniforms, as far as she could tell, was partly to try and stop the girls from looking too slutty. It didn't work, though. In fact, with all the make-up and extra-short skirts on display, it just made things worse; Sam thought that most of the girls there looked like prostitutes dressed up as schoolgirls, instead of the real thing. The other reason for the uniforms, apparently, was some kind of vague idea that if everyone was dressed the same, it might cut back on bullying. That didn't work either. The boys weren't too bad. None of them would speak to her, of course, and sometimes when they were sure that she could hear they'd make stupid comments about the things they'd like to do to her, but she could cope with all of that. It was the girls she couldn't handle. It had started with snide comments, and then names, and then stupid jokes, like her bag being hidden, or bits of paper being flicked at her in class. And then it had started to get more physical - girls barging into her, or deliberately blocking her way in corridors. You'd have thought that at sixteen they would be past that kind of thing, but apparently not. The morning, on that particular rainy Tuesday, had actually been bearable. A few nasty remarks, that was all. It was the end of lunchtime before things started to get bad. She had spent lunch in the comparative sanctuary of the library, as usual, totally alone in the warm, dusty little room, but she had needed a pee before class, and that meant the walk across the playground to the toilet block. She was unlucky; just as she got there a big group of girls from her year came round the corner from behind the block, where they sometimes spent lunchtimes smoking. Shona, the biggest, stupidest and most unpleasant of them, reached the door to the ladies' just before Sam, and stood there, blocking it, smirking. Sam thought, for half a second, about trying to push past her, but then she just gave up, turned around and walked off, hearing them laughing behind her. Classes only lasted for a couple of hours in the afternoons, and she knew that if she had to she could hold it till then. It wasn't worth getting pushed around. The classes that afternoon seemed to drag on and on, and by the last half hour or so getting to the toilet was more or less the only thing on Sam's mind. She almost asked to be excused from class, but that was so embarrassing, and it would just let Shona and the others know they'd won. She just crossed her legs together under the table, clamping her thighs together, and waited for that final bell. When it eventually came, she was all ready to dash to the loo, but one of Shona's friends managed to knock all of her books onto the floor on the way out, and it took her a few minutes to get them sorted and into her bag. By the time she managed to get to the toilets she was so desperate she felt like she could hardly walk - and then, as she went into the girls', with it's flickering fluorescent lights and bare concrete walls, she saw Shona and about seven friends standing there, waiting for her. She felt like crying. 'Well, well, look who it is'. 'Fuck off bitch, no slags allowed'. 'Aww, it looks like the little rich girl needs to use the bathroom'. A chorus of mockery from the hangers-on, but Shona was just standing there, silent, smirking like always. Sam bit her lip, trying not to get upset, looking at the floor, trying to move round them; and then Shona shoved her, and someone else had moved behind her and shoved her back, and now she was in the middle of a circle of them. 'Aww, are we stopping you from doing something?' That was Shona. 'Fucking animal, you should just piss on the floor'. Someone else, she didn't recognize the voice. 'Yeah, you don't deserve a toilet'. Shona again, and that was when Sam, to her horror, felt the first warm drops start to squeeze out from between her legs, as much as she tried to stop them. 'Aww, look at her, she looks like she can hardly hold it'. Someone pushed her again, hard, in the side, and that did it, the few drops became a steady trickle, a wet warmth first inside her panties and then, amazingly fast, running down her thighs. She was crying openly now, as unable to stop that as she was her bladder, and that was the first thing they noticed. 'Look, we've made poor little diddums cry'. And then the smell hit them, and someone saw the little puddle that had already started to form on the grimy tiles between her feet. What she remembered afterwards was the way that they'd been so hyped up, so excited when they were mocking her, like a mob or something, and the way that that excitement had suddenly ebbed and vanished. Like what she'd done was so disgusting, so sordid, that it wasn't even funny, wasn't even worth jeering. Some of them just gave her shocked, angry looks and walked off, as if she'd told an inappropriate joke at a party. Shona seemed furious, like it was a personal insult. 'Fucking hell, you filthy little bitch. You're a fucking animal. We were just having a fucking joke. There was no need for ... fucking hell, I knew you were a little slut, but I didn't know you were a fucking animal'. Like Sam had done it deliberately. She walked out, and the others followed her, but not before one of them had had the chance to hiss 'Wait till the rest of the school hears about this, you little bitch. If you think everyone hates you now, you just wait'. That sudden disgust, and the guilty feeling it had given her, like it was all her fault, like she was dirty, that was one of the things that Sam always remembered about that moment. The other was that just after it had happened, just as the shock was sweeping over everyone, she had looked up, and caught the eye, just for a second, of Lily Patterson. She remembered feeling this kind of obscure disappointment. She'd never even talked to Lily, and the black-haired girl seemed to be a good friend of Shona's; but she'd never really joined in when they were all having a go at Sam. And she seemed cleverer, too. She volunteered answers and ideas in class, and sometimes made jokes that Sam actually liked. One of them had even made her laugh out loud in class, before she could stop herself, and that had earned her filthy looks from Shona and the gang, who obviously assumed she was trying to ingratiate herself. Lily hadn't seemed to mind, though. And even now she didn't seem to have the same disgust on her face as the others, more a kind of sad look. But she was still there watching, watching as Sam wet herself, and she still left with all the others as they flounced out. After a few seconds, standing there alone in the gloomy, dirty toilets, the smell of her own pee filling the room, Sam managed to force herself to move. She meant to get some toilet paper or something, and to try and clean up the mess on the floor, but it was all she could do to get into one of the cubicles, sit down and lock the door, before she started crying even harder, so hard she couldn't move, huge, heaving, paralyzing sobs. She was crying so hard she didn't even hear the outside door open, or the footsteps as someone walked in. 'You alright?' At first she thought it must be a teacher, or maybe a cleaner, and then she realized she knew the voice. Lily. She knew it had to be another stupid game, and in any case she was still crying to hard to speak, but Lily didn't seem bothered by the lack of a reply. After a few seconds she just said 'Yeah, I know what you mean', like Sam had said something profound instead of just weeping. Sam waited for her to leave, waiting to hear the door close, gradually mastering her tears, starting to breathe more normally. And then she realized that not only did Lily not seem to be leaving, but that there was a strange sort of scrubbing noise from outside the door. She couldn't help herself; she unlocked the cubicle door and opened it very slightly, and cautiously peered out. Lily was outside with a mop and a bucket and a big bottle of disinfectant, energetically scrubbing away at what had been the puddle Sam had left. She looked up as she heard the door click and said, totally matter-of-factly, 'There's a supplies cupboard just outside, round the corner. They always leave it unlocked, I dunno why. Guess they don't reckon anyone's going to want to steal bleach. Pretty useful for this kind of thing, like'. Sam had no idea what to say. Eventually she managed to mumble 'Thank you', and then 'I suppose I should be doing that'. Lily shrugged. "Nah, you get yourself sorted out, I can handle this. I've been cleaning up after little brothers and sisters my whole life, I'm used to it'. Sam couldn't think of anything else to say, so she just mumbled another thank you, and closed the cubicle door. There was paper in there, for once, and she managed to get herself reasonably clean, although her legs still felt a little bit damp and sticky, and she could still smell it. Her white panties were completely ruined too, soaking wet and stained. She sat for a moment longer, looking at them, and then summoned up the courage to venture outside. Lily had finished with the floor, which now looked much cleaner than it normally did; the whole bathroom smelt of pine-flavoured detergent. Sam came out sheepishly, not wanting to look up, but Lily just smiled at her. 'There you are. Feeling any better?' Sam shrugged, unable to think of anything to say. She desperately felt like cryingagain, and bit her lip to stop herself. Lily must have noticed, because she stopped smiling and looked concerned. 'Hey, it's all okay. Come on, it's okay.' She started to walk towards Sam, and then paused, like she wasn't totally sure of herself; but after a second she walked over and wrapped the smaller girl up in her arms, squeezing her close for a long moment, and then releasing her, but holding onto her hand. 'It is okay, you know. It must have been horrible, but it's over now'. 'But they'll tell everyone'. Sam could hear her own voice sounding shaky and whiney, and hated herself for it. She was slightly embarrassed to have Lily holding her hand, but at the same time felt immensely grateful for it. 'Don't worry about that. No-one believes anything that bunch of slags say, anyway. And I'll tell people they're lying, if anyone asks me. Now come on, lets get you sorted and get out of here. Hang on a minute, I'll just take this lot back to the cupboard'. She scooped up the disinfectant and the mop and bucket and rushed out. Sam stood there, hoping that no-one else came in. She wondered why no-one had come in yet, and then realized that she'd actually only been in the toilets for perhaps ten minutes, at the most; it just seemed like much longer. The toilets were always really quiet after school anyway, and so was the playground, because everyone wanted to get away from the place as soon as possible. Lily came back, holding a plastic bag. 'Here, put your knickers in here - I bet they're ruined'. Sam nodded, and fetched her panties from where she'd left them on the floor of the cubicle. She put them into the bag, and tied the top. Lily was looking at her in an assessing sort of way. 'It's probably not a great idea to go home without any pants. Don't want you getting a chill, do we? And there's loads of dirty old men round here. Tell you what, I think I might have a pair in my locker, luckily enough. Hang on again, I'll just be a moment'. She was gone for a couple of minutes this time, and Sam was just beginning to wonder if she'd been abandoned when Lily returned, triumphantly clutching a pair of lacy black panties. 'I left them at my boyfriend's last week, and he brought them back to me at school, and I keep forgetting to take them home'. She suddenly looked a bit worried, and gave the panties a slightly dubious look. 'I hope they're clean.' She held them up towards the light, and examined them; then, looking slightly embarrassed for the first time, she brought them to her nose and sniffed them. She seemed relieved. 'Yeah, you're alright. I reckon they should fit you fine and all'. Sam didn't know if she was really comfortable with the idea of wearing someone else's panties, but she didn't want to offend Lily after she'd been so kind, so she smiled and thanked her, and retreated into a cubicle to pull them on. They fit fine, though they felt a bit strange; she'd never worn lacy underwear before. She came out and thanked Lily again. 'Hey, no problem, I'm just glad they fit. And don't worry about the other stuff, either. It'll all be okay. Can you get home okay? I'd offer to walk with you, but I'm meant to be meeting my boyfriend'. She looked at her watch, and pulled a face. 'About fifteen minutes ago, actually. Will you be okay if I head off now?' Sam said of course, and thanked her yet again, and could think of nothing else to say. Lily started to leave, and then stopped, and touched Sam's face, quickly and lightly, with her fingers. 'It really will be okay, you know. See you tomorrow'. And then she left. Sam could hear her phoning her boyfriend on her mobile as she crossed the deserted playground, and was relieved that she offered no explanation for her lateness. It took Sam half an hour to walk home in the rain, and the whole time she was walking she was conscious of the feel of Lily's panties against her skin. When she got to her house her parents were out, as usual, and she went straight to the bathroom. She started the shower running, and then started to pull her clothes off. The panties were the last thing off, and, without really thinking, she raised them to her nose, as Lily had done. She could smell herself, including, to her embarrassment, a faint tang of pee; but she could also smell something faint below that, an unfamiliar scent. Lily. She opened her eyes, and only then did she even realize that she'd closed them; and only when she then happened to glance in the mirror did she realize that her other hand was sort of resting half between her legs. She stood for a moment, looking at herself, and then carefully put the panties on the dresser and had a shower. Lily met her boyfriend in the park as usual, and they smoked cigarettes and drank some vodka and talked a bit, as usual. And then they kissed a bit, and he felt her tits, and put his hand up her skirt, as usual, with the grey drizzle falling lightly around them and making the metal of the swingset gleam. Sometimes she would toss him off, and very occasionally she had let him put it in her mouth, but she didn't feel like it today, and he knew better than to ask. She liked him, she knew that. He was cute looking, all the girls fancied him. And he wasn't too stupid, and he could make her laugh sometimes. It was just ... it was just that she didn't really feel anything special, not when they kissed, not when he touched her. She didn't really feel anything much at all. Today, though, she was sitting there with his hand up her skirt, inexpertly pawing at her, while she looked at the rain and waited for him to get bored, and her mind started to drift. She found herself thinking about Sam, standing there crying with pee running down her legs, and how it had smelt, and how vulnerable the poor lass had looked, and then she thought about Sam wearing her panties, and without really paying attention she realized that she was feeling pleasantly warm down below, and then she felt her boyfriend take his hand away. She turned to him, and saw that he was looking a bit confused, studying her hand; his fingers were shiny with moisture, even though he hadn't put them inside her knickers. She realized that her pants were damp, and couldn't remember that ever happening before. She shrugged, and kissed her boyfriend one last time, and went home to make supper for her brothers.