“Great,” I said. “So she knew that they would want to put me on TV.”
“Oh, she was counting on it. That’s why she got me involved. So, let’s talk about how to manage that.”
She went over the requests she had received, the number of which had apparently gone up since our phone conversation yesterday. Two local Palm Springs stations, one local Los Angeles station, and two network talk shows now wanted to speak with me.
Before Sylvia could talk about the logistics of such requests, our number was called, and she got up to get our food. I sat there reflecting on everything she had told me about the study, and my imagination started running wild.
“Can I ask you something?” I said after she had sat back down and handed me my sandwich and chips.
“Sure.”
“This study. It’s everything Dr. Slater says it is, isn’t it? I mean, she takes my clothes and throws me out to the campus, doesn’t give me a cover story, just says not to tell anyone the real reason I’m naked, and has her team follow me around. I’m sure this microphone picks up more of what I say than it does from anyone else. This isn’t about me, is it? To see how much exposure a person can take, how being naked all the time can drive a person crazy.”
Sylvia chuckled. “No, it’s not about that. Lorraine – Dr. Slater – has been working on this study for years. She’s on the level.”
“Did she have a crush on this Andrew Martinez guy or something?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that,” Sylvia said with a laugh.
We ate our lunch, and Sylvia talked about my options. She said that she would try to get all the local stations onto campus the same day. They could each do their interviews with me along with any photo or video shoots they wanted. I almost choked on my sandwich when Sylvia mentioned videos, but my image was already in enough places already. More footage shouldn’t even matter. Sylvia also promised to talk to the national shows, one of which was on Showtime. I cringed when I heard that, knowing that Showtime would have no qualms or problems showing me uncensored. But part of me, the tingling part, wanted me to do Showtime as well. And this way, I would have control. I would be the person making the statements, not other people.
I thanked Sylvia for the lunch. All I could do now was wait for her to tell me when my interviews would take place. My afternoon classes were as uneventful as I could have hoped for in my naked state, until swimming. I stopped in the locker room to secure my binder and microphone, grab my cap and goggles and headed out to the pool. Without that necklace, I was truly totally naked, at least until I put the cap on. I wore no rings on my fingers, no earrings, nothing. I was as naked as I had been when I was born. That thought alone increased the intensity of the tingling. Why would a little necklace make such a difference?
I grabbed a kickboard and some flippers from the bin and dropped them and the goggles on the concrete on the end of the pool at the lane I always used. After pulling my rubber cap on, I stepped off and dropped into the warm water. When I resurfaced, I turned to grab my goggles and saw Rick walking toward the pool and the lane next to me. He was naked, his penis bouncing with each step, a huge grin on his face. I couldn’t help but notice that his penis looked different from the other, albeit few, penises I had seen. The skin completely enveloped the head, and I realized the difference: Rick was uncircumcised.
“Woo hoo!” I heard a girl from outside the fence yell.
Rick blushed and gave a half-hearted wave to the girl.
“What are you doing?” I asked after he had jumped in and resurfaced.
“I am standing in solidarity with my swimming classmate,” Rick replied. “And it feels awesome to be so free in the water.”
I could agree with him there. Now that I was able to swim naked, I wondered how I would ever be able to wear a swimsuit again. Ms. Martin arrived and got us started on our regular drills. She had to have known that I was swimming nude again since I had become the campus celebrity of the week after that story in the paper, but I don’t know if she realized Rick was also nude until we all got out of the pool at the end of class. I saw her eyes widen when she saw Rick’s body. She looked over at me and shook her head as if I were to blame. Part of me wanted to tell her to go take it up with Dr. Slater, but I just went back to the locker room, showered, traded my cap and goggles for my necklace and binder, and started back to the dorm. I did see Rick outside the athletic building, fully clothed. I guess he wasn’t brave enough to stay naked. But then again, he didn’t have a reason to be naked outside the pool area, and I did.
I spent the rest of Friday catching up on my literature reading before eating dinner with Liz, Audrey, Bruce, and Zack. There was a dance that evening at the Student Union, and Liz tried to get me to go with them. Somehow, I didn’t feel ready to be naked at such a social function. I spent Friday evening watching TV in my room, feeling like a hermit. Diane had gone to Anaheim with James, so I was going to have the room all to myself for the entire weekend. I wanted to take advantage of the privacy to unwind and reflect. I had made it naked through an entire school week. Five days of constant embarrassment, humiliation, and arousal. I had almost been sexually assaulted, but I had also been guaranteed an A for my four-semester-hour Chemistry course. I could live another eighty years, I thought, and never experience a week as strange as this one.
Saturday morning was usually when I did my laundry, but all I had now were five small black towels and my regular bath towel. It hardly seemed worth the quarters I used to wash them, but I carried on with my routine anyway.
My cell phone had been going crazy since Friday afternoon, with calls from numbers I didn’t recognize as well as from friends back home. I had been letting the calls roll to voice mail, but very few people actually left messages. The voice mails from my Texas friends were all pretty generic, saying things like, “Hey, I was just checking up on you. Call me when you get a chance.” I thought it was odd that so many people were calling me now, and it made me fearful that the news story about me might have spread. I kept telling myself that it was inevitable that friends back home would hear what I was doing. Sylvia had pretty much said that it was Dr. Slater’s intent to expose me to the whole world. Still, I didn’t want to have to face anyone back home, either in person or over the phone. I felt somewhat OK here at school, kind of like that Las Vegas commercial, “Whatever happens at CVU stays at CVU.” I knew that wasn’t true though, with news media outlets swarming Sylvia to get to me.
At noon, I went down to lunch. Liz and Audrey convinced me to join them in the TV lounge over at the guys’ dorm next door to watch college basketball. “March Madness” they called it. I had never been a big basketball fan, but sitting with my new friends sounded better than reading a nineteenth century British novel. I felt strange walking naked into a men’s dormitory, but I had been walking naked everywhere for going on six days. Everyone who lived in that dorm had already seen me either in the dining hall or out on campus. They would just have to get used to me, which, I supposed, was the whole point of Dr. Slater’s study.
Someone had set up a buffet table full of snacks and drinks. Brandon and Kevin were there. I had seen both of them from a distance a few times since Monday’s episode, but I hadn’t wanted to talk to either of them. I sat between Liz and Audrey as the first game started.
There were about forty people packed into the lounge, most of whom were guys. While the game was on, they were cheering like they were in the arena, but during timeouts and commercials, most of them would sneak peeks back at me. Every time I caught one of them looking, I felt those familiar tingles. I wanted to play with them more, maybe spread my legs apart just a bit and give them more of a show, but I remembered what had happened with the last person I had done that to, Dr. Biden. Still, the longer I sat there, the greater that mix of humiliation, excitement, and arousal. I finally decided that none of the people here had any kind of power over me like Dr. Biden, as my chemistry professor, had had. I was in a metal folding chair, part of the ext
ra seating added to the TV lounge for the games today, and I wasn’t exactly comfortable. I shifted positions often, at one point stretching out with my butt at the front edge of the chair, my legs straight and together, and my arms over my head. I noticed three guys do classic double takes. They kept looking at me until I sat back up. After that, I took more revealing positions, my legs getting further and further apart as the chair became more uncomfortable and as my arousal grew. By halftime of that first game, I needed to get away and give myself some relief.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered to Liz.
I got up and slipped out of the row. The wetness was so bad that I was tempted to use my little black towel to wipe myself off before I even got out of the lounge. But before I could reach the exit doors, I heard a familiar voice say my name.
“Danielle?”
I thought about continuing, pretending that I didn’t hear him, but I stopped. When I turned, Brandon stopped in front of me. He had almost sprinted to try to catch me.
“Yeah?” I said in as cold a voice as I could muster.
“I wanted to say I was sorry about the other day. I was out of line, and… Well. I wanted to say I was sorry.”
“OK.” I didn’t know what else to say. I could have agreed with him and told him that yes, he was out of line and that he had been a total ass. But I didn’t.
Brandon looked around uncomfortably. “I guess that’s it. What I wanted to say.”
“OK.”
I turned to leave. “I’ll see you around,” Brandon said. I waved whatever as I pushed through the door.
My urge for relief wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been when I had gotten up. Brandon and his weak apology had put a damper on my libido. I had spent the last four days reprogramming myself to dislike him, so his interference was more of an annoyance than anything else. But the feeling was still there, so I continued on. Since I hadn’t put any sunscreen on my already very tan body, I walked through the dining hall to get to the girls’ dorm rather than walking outside from one building to the other.
When I walked into the lobby of Holcombe Hall, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of the absolute last thing I wanted to see in my current naked state. My parents were sitting in the very same love seat where Clarissa had interviewed me on Monday. Daddy and Mom both spoke at the same time, looks of shock and dismay on their faces.
“Oh my God!” Mom exclaimed.
“What the hell?” Daddy said.
I couldn’t think or breathe. All I wanted to do was hide. I covered my breasts with one arm and my vulva with the black butt towel in my other hand and lurched forward, crouching down behind a sofa at the other end of the room.
“What are you doing here!?” I screamed.
Looking over the sofa, I saw Daddy walking toward me. Mom was still on the love seat, crying.
“I should ask the same of you,” Daddy said. “What are you doing here at this school? Get upstairs and put some clothes on right now!”
“Stop!” I yelled when Daddy had crossed almost to the sofa. “Just stop. Please.”
Daddy stopped, thankfully. He stood there looking rather dumbfounded. “Why don’t you get dressed so we can talk about this?” he said at last.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t? What the hell is going on here?”
“Oh, Dani,” Mom moaned, still on the love seat. “What has California done to you?”
“I can’t get dressed,” I said, tearfully. “I just can’t.”
“So all that bullshit you said about body image in that article…” Daddy said and then stopped. He rarely cussed in front of me, so hearing certain words come out of his mouth was jarring.
“Yes, it was bullshit,” I said, trying to shock him too. They had no business being here, invading my space like this.
“Well, you’re coming home with us,” Daddy said. “We can get you into another school close to home. One that doesn’t tolerate this kind of stuff. Naked! Jesus Christ!”
“No!” I yelled a little more forcefully than I had intended. “I am doing--” I stopped, choking back a sob as the tears rolled down my cheeks. “What I have to do to get my degree. You just—you don’t understand.”
Daddy looked back at Mom then back at my face over the sofa. “Come on,” he said, holding his hand out to me. “Let’s go upstairs and get you some clothes.”
“I can’t!” I yelled again. “I don’t have any fucking clothes!”
Springing up from my spot behind the sofa, I rushed toward the front door of the building, ignoring the looks of shock that had registered on their faces over my use of the f-word and of the sight of my tanned naked ass zipping by in front of them.
I needed to get away from my parents, but more than that, I needed help. When I burst outside into the sunshine, I bounded down the front steps, almost tripping because I wasn’t watching my footing. The big toe of my left foot turned awkwardly on the concrete, taking some of the skin off and sending a jolt of pain up my leg. I tried to ignore it as I looked all over the grounds, knowing that one of Dr. Slater’s research assistants had to be out here somewhere and hoping I would recognize the person when I saw him or her. Two guys jogged alongside the street; two others played Frisbee; and three girls were standing on the corner smoking and talking. All of them stopped what they were doing to watch me limp around the building, my bare breasts bouncing and my toe starting to bleed. I had just been in the men’s dorm, so perhaps the RA was outside of it somewhere.
When I rounded the corner of the building, I saw the heavyset girl, Ginger, wearing the green backpack and sitting on one of the park benches under the minimal shade of a line of tall palm trees talking on a cell phone. I bounded over to her, wincing at the pain in my toe.
“She’s here,” I heard Ginger say when I approached.
“Is that her?” I asked.
Ginger nodded. I held my hand out for the phone, and she gave it to me.
“My parents showed up out of the blue,” I said. “I have to tell them everything that’s going on. They will pull me out of this school if they think this whole running around naked thing was my idea.”
“Calm down,” Dr. Slater said. “I’m almost there. Just give me two more minutes, and we’ll talk to your parents together.”
“We have to tell them the truth,” I insisted.
“And we will. Calm down. Everything’s going to be all right.”
I turned and looked back toward Holcombe Hall. My parents were walking toward Ginger and me. I sighed and sat down on the bare bench, crossed my legs, and used the black butt towel to wipe the blood off my toe. A flap of skin was torn on the side of it, from the edge of the nail and up over the tip.
“Hurry,” I said to Dr. Slater. “They’re almost here.”
I disconnected and handed the phone to Ginger. She had taken off her backpack and set it on the bench beside me. After zipping it open, she pulled out a little first aid kit in a plastic case and handed it to me. She then turned and moved to intercept my parents.
“Mr. and Mrs. Keaton,” I heard her say in a cheerful voice. “I’m Ginger Hall, a graduate assistant in the sociology department here at Coachella Valley University.”
I found some alcohol wipes and some gauze and tape in the plastic box and proceeded to clean up my toe with it. I had my leg up in front of me, and I used that to block the view of my breasts from my parents as much as I could. I felt like a child about to get chastised and punished. I winced as I used the alcohol wipe on my ripped toe. A crowd was starting to gather near the bench where I was seated.
One guy stepped forward to take a closer look at either my toe or my vulva, I couldn’t tell which, and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, as Dr. Slater arrived and joined Ginger in talking to my parents.
I heard Dr. Slater introduce herself as the chair of the sociology department.
“What does any of this have to do with my daughter?” Daddy stammered.
; “Why don’t we go up to Dani’s room and talk about it?” Dr. Slater suggested. She stood between my parents, taking them both by their elbows and trying to guide them toward the dorm entrance. Dr. Slater looked at me and motioned with her head for me to follow. I had just gotten a gauze pad taped around my toe, so I closed the first aid kit and offered it to Ginger.
“Keep it,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’ll get another one.”
My parents seemed to be in a daze as Dr. Slater led them into the dorm and to the elevator with me limping along behind them, out of my parents’ line of sight. Getting into the elevator naked with my parents was one of the most difficult things I had ever had to do. They stepped in with Dr. Slater, and when all three of them turned, they saw naked me getting in. Mom visibly shuddered at the sight of me, making me feel even worse. I understood that no one would want their daughter running around naked in public in front of everyone. I turned quickly when I got into the elevator, so all they could see of me was my backside, and rode up to the third floor.
“How can students be allowed to just—?“ Daddy started to ask, but Dr. Slater cut him off.
“We’ll talk in Danielle’s room.”
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and I rushed ahead as quickly as my toe would allow, bursting into my room and jumping into my bed, pulling the sheet up to my neck. Dr. Slater ushered my parents into the room like she owned the place.
“Please have a seat,” she said, closing the door.
Daddy pulled the chair from my desk out for Mom and then took his own seat on Diane’s bed.
“First of all,” Dr. Slater began, “I want to tell you that I adore your daughter. She has so far exceeded any expectations I had of her when she volunteered for this project.”
My parents looked at each other. “What project?” Mom asked.
The Volunteer Page 13
