"I think that asshole Brad might be cheating on me," Isabel confessed to Margie as they sat together at the science desk in the back, working on their lab assignment.
"What makes you say that?"
"Lots of things. He's been acting like he's hiding something from me. Once I interrupted him mid-conversation with this other girl, and he always has this guilty look on his face," Isabel answered. "And after we got voted as king and queen for this year's prom, too! God, I wish there were some way I could follow him around and hear what he's talking about without him knowing."
"Ten minutes left!" called Mr Finster, the science teacher, from the front of the room.
The two girls continued working on their assignment, with Margie actually mixing the chemicals while Isabel took notes. Isabel didn't particularly care for the nerdy girl with straight red hair, freckles, and thick round glasses over green eyes, who was SO obviously still a virgin. But Isabel did need an "A" in science class, and Margie always got good grades, so it didn't take a math whiz to do that two plus two. And okay, maybe she'd made some promises about introducing Margie to some of the cute popular guys, promises she'd never intended to actually follow through on, but hey, that's how high school worked.
Isabel stood from her lab stool, stretched, and reached back behind her head with both hands to smooth her long black curly hair. As she did so, her elbow nudged a rack of open test tubes, sending their contents toppling over onto Margie's experiment. The girls backed away as the compound began fizzing and bubbling, changing colors rapidly before spurting a burst of foamy substance out the top. It splattered all over the countertop, onto Margie's lab book which she tried desperately to save, and a bit of it would have hit Isabel square in the face if she hadn't lifted her hand to shield it.
Isabel and Margie glanced around, expecting laughter from their classmates, but everyone else was too busy finishing up their own work, and Mr Finster hadn't noticed either. Thank God, Isabel thought. Well, better clean this up. She reached for the paper towels.
"Izz!" came Margie's frantic whisper. Margie always called her that. It was one of the many things about Margie that made her simultaneously endearing and annoying in Isabel's eyes. "OhmyGod, Izz, your hand!"
"What?" asked Isabel, lifting it and looking. "Shit, did I chip a nail?"
"NO!" gasped Margie, pointing, her mouth agape in horror. "It's... got a HOLE in it!"
"What?! Where?" Isabel turned her hand over and felt sick. On the back there was indeed a small but very prominent hole, and she could see right through it, to the black countertop. She turned and held it up and could see Margie's face through her own hand!
"I told you to wear rubber gloves!" the nerdy redhead chastised.
"Oh SHIT! FUCK! JESUS CHRIST!" Isabel panicked. "I must have gotten some of that on me!" she said, pointing to the recently exploded mixture.
"Wash it off, quick!" said Margie, turning on the sink for her friend. Isabel thrust her hand under the water and held it there, petrified of what she'd see when she drew it back out. Relief flooded through her as she saw her hand was still intact. The "hole" that had been there before was gone.
"Are you okay? Does it hurt?" asked a concerned Margie.
"No," Isabel answered, still calming down. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, I think it's okay."
"OhmyGod, Izz," exclaimed Margie. "There was a HOLE in your HAND!"
"I know," Isabel replied, still breathing a bit shakily but able to laugh a little about it now. She turned to inspect the spilled flask contents, which had now settled down. "What the fuck IS this shit?"
Gingerly, Margie lifted a glass swizzle stick and dipped it into the mixture. Pulling it out, she found the instrument perfectly intact.
"Here, give that here," said Isabel, and she took it from her lab partner and dabbed a drop onto her hand, in the same place where the hole had been before.
"What are you doing?!"
"I'm just testing something, Margie. Don't get your panties in a bunch."
It was incredible: As the mixture made contact with Isabel's hand, her skin faded and became transparent! Once again she could see right through it. With her other hand she poked the spot with a finger and still felt her skin there, even though she couldn't see it. She flipped her hand over and looked at her palm, but the "hole" did not extend through to the other side.
"Oh my God, this is SO weird!" She showed Margie.
"I think we'd better pitch this," Margie said, lifting the flask over the sink. Her partner (still not wearing protective gloves, Margie noted) grabbed it back.
"Hang on, first I want to do something." Isabel had a mischievous smirk in her eyes. "Hand me a cotton swab." Laying her hand flat on the table, she dipped the swab into the mixture and began to spread it carefully over the back sides of her fingers: pinkie, ring finger, index finger, and thumb, leaving the middle one untouched. Both girls watched in awe as they faded from sight, rendering the black countertop underneath them visible. Isabel turned her palm up and saw that her fingers were still visible when seen from that side.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Check this out," she said, then raised her hand and waved to the teacher. "Hi, Mr Finster!" From the teacher's point of view it looked like a normal wave, but to Isabel and Margie, with only the middle finger visible, it appeared she was flipping him off. The pair giggled as Mr Finster returned what he thought was a greeting.
"Hey," thought Isabel out loud. "I wonder if I can make it disappear completely." Margie watched in fascination as Isabel dipped her index finger directly into the flask. When she pulled it out, both girls gasped with shock. With the strange substance all around it, her finger seemed to end abruptly in a stump, making it look like she had only four on that hand! It was so freakishly disturbing that Isabel had to touch her "missing" finger just to reassure herself it was still actually there.
"OhmyGod, this is incredible!" said Margie excitedly. She then launched into a really scientific-sounding explanation of how this might be possible, something about light and diffraction, or reflection, or some damn thing. Isabel didn't really listen. To her all that mattered were the possibilities their discovery offerred.
"We should show it to Mr. Finster," was Margie's idea. "Think about it, we're talking national science fair here! Writeups in journals, millions in patents, maybe even a Nobel Prize for chemistry!"
"Or," said Isabel, gears turning in her head, "I could use this stuff to become totally invisible and spy on Brad!"
"Are you nuts?!" came Margie's objection. "That'd be a complete waste of the scientific discovery of the century!"
"Tell you what", said Isabel, "just let me do this, then we'll make a fresh batch and you can do whatever you want with it. But I HAVE to know whether Brad is cheating on me!"
Margie probably would have argued further, but at that moment the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Before Finster could notice, Isabel snatched up the flask and hid it in her purse. "Wash your hands!" said Margie. Isabel obeyed, realizing how freaked out everyone would be if they saw her walking through the halls with only half a hand. Just as before, the creamy material came off upon contact with the water, returning her hand to normal.
After class Isabel dragged Margie off to a seldom-used bathroom on the far corner of the school, where they waited for the next class to start, under Margie's protest of "I'm gonna be late!"
"Chill out, don't be such a dork. It's one class and you're probably getting straight A's anyway. I just want to try this out." Isabel braced the door closed with a tall metal waste can and set her purse on the sink, pulling out the pilfered flask. Turning it in her hand, she said, "God, can you imagine the shit I could do with this? This is gonna kick so much ass!" Isabel poured some of the substance into her hands and began rubbing it up and down her arms like suntan lotion. Margie watched, wide-eyed, as her lab partner's limbs faded and vanished. When she got past her elbows and up to her shirt sleeves, Isabel paused. "Hey Margie, c'mere a minute."
"Because. I just wanna see something."
"Okay, but promise you won't put any of that stuff on me."
"I won't," with a hint of irritation. But Isabel took a glob on her (now invisible) finger and when Margie approached she smeared it on the front of her nerdy friend's white cotton T-shirt. With her hand and arm invisible, Margie never saw it coming until it was too late.
"Hey! You said you wouldn't--!"
"I promised I wouldn't put it on YOU, I didn't say anything about your geeky clothes."
"But I don't want my clothes to... turn transparent!"
But as both girls observed, nothing was happening to Margie's shirt save for a slightly oily spot left where Isabel had smeared the liquid. "Will you relax? God! See, it didn't do anything, and that'll come right out when you wash it."
Margie muttered, "I guess," but still glared at Isabel a bit.
"Hmm," Isabel said, recalling the swizzle stick in the lab as she studied the stain on Margie's shirt, "I guess it only works on organic materials."
"But this is cotton," said Margie, still fussing over the spot.
"Well I don't know!" replied Isabel. "Then YOU come up with an explanation, brainiac! The important thing is, it doesn't work on clothes, just skin. And THAT means..."
Margie's green eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she realized where Isabel was going with this. "OhmyGod, you can't be serious!"
But Isabel had already kicked off her shoes and began pulling her top over her head with her transparent arms. "Don't be a prude, Margie," she said, unbuckling her belt and unzipping her jeans, then taking them down to her ankles. To Margie it all looked so bizarre, like Isabel's clothes were undoing themselves, pulling themselves off her body.
"Haven't you ever had that dream where you're naked in school?" continued Isabel, removing her socks. "Sure, it's scary but I think it's pretty damn exciting too! Haven't you ever wanted to do it for real, I mean, if you knew you'd never get caught? What, what are you looking at?"
"OhmyGod," said Margie, "You wear underwear... like THAT?" Margie stared at Isabel's leopard-print bra and matching skimpy thong.
"God, Margie, you are such a virgin! All the popular girls wear these." Another mischievous smirk. "Why, what do YOU have under there?" And she reached for the elastic waist of Margie's plaid pants, tugging one side down enough to reveal light blue full-bottom panties with a butterfly print on them.
"Hey! Quit it!" snapped an embarrassed Margie, grabbing her pants by the waistband and holding them up. Again she hadn't seen Isabel's hand reach for her.
Isabel laughed. "God, you are so innocent, Margie! Well if you don't approve of me wearing these, maybe I'll just..." And her bra seemed to unhook itself and slip off her shoulders, then her leopard-skin thong undies slid themselves to the floor, where Isabel stepped out of them. She now stood naked in the school bathroom, the cold floor tiles against her feet, and it did not escape Margie's notice that she had a little sunburst tattoo just above her dark triangle of pubic hair, and a heart on her left butt-cheek. Isabel knew she looked good, and loved to tease the boys in her class who found her slender body achingly curvaceous, though they were usually too busy imagining it naked to think of those exact words.
Next Isabel removed her jewelry: Her earrings, ankle bracelet, the necklace Brad had given her, and the little diamond stud in her belly button. Wasting no time, she took the flask and began spreading the mysterious cream over her thighs, down her slender legs, the soles of her feet and the cracks between her toes...
As Margie watched in disbelief, her popular friend seemed to slowly erase herself before her very eyes, one body part at a time, until only half of her remained, floating in midair. She couldn't believe Isabel was going through with this.
...Then her neck and shoulders, her bare breasts, her flat little tummy, her round and bouncy butt, then her soft pubic hair, and finally the sensitive lips of her most intimate spot. Isabel shivered with sensual pleasure at her lingering touch, her finger slipping inside...
"God, will you quit staring!" she exclaimed, breaking Margie out of her trance. "You're not a lez, are you, Margie?"
Margie blushed red. "No!"
Isabel laughed. "Just kidding. Now help me get my back, will you?" She turned around, hair floating out of the way as her invisible hands lifted it up. Margie rubbed the cream down Isabel's naked spine, and soon it was gone as well.
"Okay, last part," said Isabel, her head turning around in midair. A big scoop of material levitated out of the flask in Margie's hands. Slowly Isabel's hair disappeared as she worked the substance over the long strands. It was an odd sensation, like shampooing up with no intention of getting under the shower. When the back of her head was done, she tilted her face, now a hovering mask, into Margie's view.
"Not on the eyes," warned the brainy redhead. "If your retinas are transparent you'll be blind."
"What, so I'm just supposed to walk around with my eyes in plain sight? Someone will notice!"
"Hey, this wasn't my idea!" Margie thought a moment. "Okay, cover your eyelids, then you can close your eyes whenever you need to vanish completely."
Even without a body, Isabel could see her own amazement as she stepped in front of the mirror and found only her floating eyes looking back at her. She waved a hand, nothing! Margie stepped behind her and she could see all of the other girl in the mirror, except there now seemed to be a second pair of eyes, Isabel's eyes, peeking out from Margie's red hair. It was the single strangest sight either girl had ever seen in her life.
"OhmyGod, this is just unreal!" exclaimed Margie.
Isabel's shedded clothing floated over to the sink where Margie stood. "Here, hang onto these, and don't lose 'em." Her skin felt vaguely slimy, and her hair was a sticky mass, strange but she wouldn't quite call it outright uncomfortable.
Margie jumped a bit as the metal wastecan slid itself out of its position in front of the door. For a moment she thought someone had burst in from out in the hall, but it was only Isabel moving it.
"OhmyGod, Izz, you scared me!"
"God, will you relax?" said Isabel. "Everyone's still in class. Now come on, I wanna try this out."
It was such a rush for Isabel, stepping out from the restroom sanctuary into the wide-open school corridors. Her heart raced as she contemplated the fact that she was actually, honest-to-God, stark NAKED! Of course she couldn't see her own nudity and neither could anyone else, but she was still aware of her body through tactile sensations. Going barefoot on the unfamiliar low-pile carpet felt strange, but good. She paused to rub up against a row of lockers, enjoying the chill of metal against her bare back and buttocks.
"Izz? Where are you?" asked Margie, looking around.
"I'm right here." Margie looked over in the direction of Isabel's voice and saw a pair of eyes appear, Cheshire Cat-like, on a locker door. "You ready to have some fun?" One eye closing briefly in a wink.
"I guess, just lemme get a drink." Margie went to the water fountain against the wall between the restroom doors. As she bent over the spout, she suddenly felt a splash of cold water hit her nose. "Ackpth!" she sputtered and stepped away, wiping her nostrils.
Isabel's laughter sounded in her ears. "Race you to Miss Pearson's class!"
"Wait, which way are you going?!" Margie listened for footsteps, and heard a metallic bang as Isabel struck a locker with her hand to show where she was. Margie ran after, not because she cared about the stupid race, but she didn't want to lose track of the prankish popularite. Outside the classroom she let out a cry of shock as she slammed into the invisible girl and fell down.
"God, Margie, you're such a klutz! Y'okay?" Not waiting for an answer, Isabel grabbed Margie's forearms and hauled her back up. It was bizarre, and a little frightening too, being lifted by someone you couldn't see. For a brief moment Margie felt panic as she feared Isabel would let go and drop her on her ass. "Check this out," came Isabel's voice once Margie had regained her stance, "this bitch busted me for chewing gum last week, watch what I do to her now."
Abruptly the door to Miss Pearson's classroom swung open of its own accord. Watch WHAT? wondered Margie as she peered through the narrow rectangular window in the classroom door. Inside she could see Miss Pearson, the English teacher, instructing a class on sentence structure, diagrams on the board. Pearson was the youngest teacher in the school, in her late twenties, and was wearing a pantsuit consisting of a pinstriped jacket and skirt. She looked up briefly as she saw the door open, a curious expression on her face, taking a step toward it.
Even from outside, the horrible grating noise of fingernails being raked across the chalkboard made Margie cringe. Everybody in class collectively sat up in surprise, many covering their ears. Miss Pearson whirled around, startled. As she did, the stack of books on her desk suddenly tumbled to the floor. Looking bewildered, Pearson knelt down to pick them back up, when an open bottle of water knocked over, spilling all over her jacket. The teacher jerked up in surprise as she felt the sudden wetness on her back. The class erupted with laughter and Margie clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress her own. A moment later the door opened and closed again.
"God DAMN was that a rush!" came Isabel's voice. "Did you SEE their reaction?"
"Izz, you are CRAZY! I can't believe you did that!"
"And I did it naked too!" laughed Isabel.
When the door opened again, Margie exclaimed, "OhmyGod Izz, NOW what are you--"
But it wasn't Isabel this time, it was a flustered-looking Miss Pearson, looking squarely at Margie. "So you're the one opening and closing my door, making all the noise out here?" she asked in an accusing tone. "Shouldn't you be in class, young lady?"
"Erm... I was just... going back."
"Do you have a hall pass?"
"Uh... no, I wasn't..." Margie trailed off, not sure how to explain what she was doing wandering the halls.
"Then I'm afraid you've got detention," stated Miss Pearson. "I want you back here at 3:30 today. Now get to class."
Margie was stunned. She had always been a model student, had never gotten in trouble before, certainly not enough to warrant a detention! As Miss Pearson turned to go back to her own class, she heard a derisive snort behind her. The teacher turned and glared at Margie, who couldn't help looking guilty, before stepping back inside.
"Oh man, that was hilarious!" said Isabel as soon as the door closed. Her eyes floated back into view from around the corner.
"Shut up, it was NOT," snapped Margie miserably. "Now I've got detention, thanks a lot!"
"That bitch!" said Isabel. Margie felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't let her get away with it."
"No, Izz, don't--!" Margie began, but her invisible friend had already caught the door as it closed and slipped inside again.
Miss Pearson, meanwhile, had decided to take out her frustration on her class by giving them an impromptu quiz. With everyone's attention focused elsewhere, no one noticed the drawer in Miss Pearson's desk slide open and a tube of super-glue float out, uncap itself, and squirt its contents over her chair. Isabel waited until the teacher finished passing out papers and sat down, then she opened the door again and SLAMMED it as hard as she could.
Pearson stood up abruptly, and her action was accompanied by an unmistakable ripping sound as her skirt remained stuck to the chair. All eyes turned from the door back to the front, where Miss Pearson was standing in front of the whole class, her red satin lingerie with stockings and garters on prominent display. The students gasped, then the snickers and laughter began. Attempting to salvage her dignity, Miss Pearson took off her suit jacket and wrapped it around her waist, making for the exit. But Isabel stuck out an invisible foot, causing her to fall flat on her face with her panty-clad ass visible to all! Pearson stood, red-faced, and ran out the door and down the hall as Isabel watched, roaring with laughter along with the rest of her classmates.
Except for one. "God, Izz, that was so MEAN, why'd you do that?"
"Ha-HAAAA, did you SEE her FACE?? That was PRICELESS!!"
The bell rang, and students began filing out of class, many still exchanging amused looks over Miss Pearson's misfortune.
"I need to stop by my locker and drop off my science books," said Margie to Isabel as she walked down the hall. Then, feeling a bit awkward, "Um, I hope you're still there."
"I'm here," came Isabel's disembodied voice, from the side opposite where Margie thought she was.
"OhmyGod, there's Jeff!" exclaimed Margie. She pointed to where he stood, next to Isabel's boyfriend Brad.
"Jeff, Brad's friend? The guy you said you like?"
"Don't look!" hissed Margie before she remembered it didn't matter whether Isabel looked.
"It's okay, I know him, he's friends with Brad. I told him about you."
"OhmyGod, you didn't! When?!"
"Just go past him and say hi," said Isabel. "I guarantee he'll remember you."
"God, Margie, don't be such a wuss! Just do it!"
"Okay... okay... All right, I'm gonna do it..." Margie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked past, murmuring a quiet, "Hi Jeff."
As she did, Isabel snuck up behind him, raised an invisible hand, and brought it down against Jeff's butt with a playful slap. Margie heard the sound and out of the corner of her eye caught Jeff jerking up in surprise. "Um... hey. Margie, right?" He turned to Brad next to him and whispered, "Holy crap, dude, she just slapped my ass!"
Margie stood there in bewilderment, a blush creeping onto her face. Unable to think of anything else to say, she turned and hurried down the hall, Jeff and Brad's laughter ringing in her ears... and Isabel's, too.
"Damn it, Izz!" she hissed. "Cut it out, you're embarrassing me!"
"Hey, I told you he'd remember you, and now he will! You should be thanking me, I just totally broke the ice for you."
"I don't care, that was a mean trick! You should have told me what you were planning!"
All this time, the other students were eyeing Margie with strange looks. A passing group of popular girls exchanged glances and snickers, and one of them commented, "God, that girl is so weird! She's like, talking to herself!"
"What a loser!" commented another.
Margie turned to where she thought Isabel was. "All right, Izz, this has gone far enough! I'm sick of your immature pranks and your getting me in trouble and embarrassing me!"
"I'm over here, brainiac."
Ignoring this, Margie went to her locker and dialed the combination.
Isabel wasn't done yet. "I'm sick of YOU, your constant whining all the time. You think you know what real embarrassment is, Margie? You don't have a CLUE! Here, let me show you!"
And as the redhead stretched to reach the top shelf of her locker, Isabel grabbed hold of both sides of her elastic-waist pants, and before Margie could do or say anything, yanked them down to her ankles. To everyone looking at her, it seemed Margie's pants suddenly dropped all by themselves, exposing her blue panties with the multicolored butterflies to half the school!
Margie gasped out an "Ohhh!" of mingled surprise, embarrassment, and indignation. The hallway erupted with laughter.
"Hey, look!" chimed Isabel's voice from somewhere. "Margie Howarth's pants fell down!"
If anybody wasn't looking Margie's way before, they certainly were now! Her face and neck glowed a bright crimson, even brighter than her hair, as amused eyes looked at her, fingers pointed, and shouts of "Cute undies!" and "Nice butterflies, Red!" rose above the laughter.
Margie bent over and tried to hike her pants back up, albeit with some difficulty as Isabel was still kneeling beside her, holding them down. The other kids looked on with confused amusement, at the nerdy girl apparently having trouble getting her pants back up. Margie suddenly felt a shockwave of panic in her stomach as the back of her underwear began slipping too, her little butt-crack peeking out over the top. She released the pants, grabbed hold of her undies and held on for dear life as Isabel tried to take them down as well.
"Izz, NO! Stop it, NOW!" she shouted, and with one hand began to swing wildly at the air around her. Her fist made contact and she heard Isabel yelp in pain, and the grip on her panties release. As quickly as she could, Margie pulled her pants back up over her embarrassing undergarments, then, near tears, turned her head away to hide from the shame and taunts. Margie felt utterly humiliated. She wanted to crawl into her locker and DIE there, and it was all stupid Isabel's fault! Furious, she grabbed a bottle of water from her locker, tore the cap off, and splashed it all around the area... but Isabel had already ducked out of the way. The laughter at her expense continued as she picked up her books and made her way, red-faced, past her classmates with what miniscule shred of dignity she could still muster, considering half the school had just seen her underwear. She wondered if she would EVER live this down!
Isabel weaved carefully in and out of the paths of passing students who didn't know to look out for her, opening and closing her eyes every few seconds to stay hidden. To hell with Margie, she thought. All day the geeky girl had done nothing but hold her back, ruining her fun. Let her enjoy her newfound attention, Isabel would do better without her. It was time to do what she'd originally intended, to find out what was up with Brad, and Margie would just get in the way anyway. She approached the locker where the two boys were still talking. They'd heard the commotion over Margie's exposure but hadn't gone over to investigate. Isabel listened in as they talked about typical guy stuff: Sports, some stupid action movie they'd seen the other day, whether or not Jeff should ask Margie out.
And then: "So what's this big secret you wanted to tell me?"
"Not here," said Brad. "The rumor mill's still flying, I don't want anyone overhearing. Tell you after gym." The two guys slammed their lockers and headed to the other end of the school, with Isabel as their shadow.
In the boys' locker room, there were lots of guys milling about and getting changed, so Isabel had to climb up on top of a row of lockers to keep out of everyone's way. She crawled over to where she could look down on Brad and Jeff, but they didn't say anything about her. It was hard to concentrate, knowing she was totally nude and the only girl in a room full of guys. God, if they could all see me I'd just DIE.
She followed them outside to the track where the coach was having them run laps. The cool breeze felt so good on her bare skin, heightening her senses in every nerve ending. But Brad and Jeff were the fastest runners in the whole school, and Isabel had trouble keeping pace with them. Plus it was uncomfortable having her breasts flopping about without a sports bra, and the gravel on the track hurt her bare feet. She winced as she thought about how ridiculous she'd look if people were watching. She only got about a quarter-lap before she gave up. For the first time she began to wonder if this was going to work out like she'd hoped. Maybe if Margie was still here she'd have a better way to keep in earshot, Isabel thought. Maybe I shouldn't have humiliated her like that.
Fortunately Brad and Jeff didn't appear to be talking as they ran side by side, keeping far ahead of the rest of the pack, and in fact seemed anxious to finish as quickly as possible. So Isabel didn't miss anything. She waited on the grass by the finish line for about half an hour until the two boys completed their laps and Coach told them they could head in. She followed them back to the locker room, being careful to slip inside right behind them, so they wouldn't get suspicious at the sight of a self-opening door. The boys stripped off their sweaty clothes and padded barefoot to the open showers as Isabel watched, smiling at the sight of Brad's naked form. Damn, did he look fine, lean and muscular and nicely hung. She giggled with girlish delight.
"Did you hear something?" Brad asked Jeff. Isabel froze, closed her eyes to vanish. Brad looked around momentarily but decided it had been his imagination.
"So, what were you gonna tell me about Isabel?" asked Jeff as the boys switched on the water and began soaping up. "You still going to prom with her?"
This was it! Isabel lingered outside the shower area, not wanting to get splashed, straining her ears to pick up their voices over the rush of water.
"Yeah, about that," admitted Brad, "I sort of cheated..."
A-HAA! Isabel smiled in a sort of vindicated satisfaction. It was TRUE, that bastard, that rotten fucking BASTARD! As soon as he came out she'd beat the living SHIT out of him, she'd--
But Brad continued. "You know how we got picked out as king and queen? Well I knew Isabel would want to show up in the best ride, so I convinced my cousin to loan me her Rolls Royce! She'll flip when she sees it! I just need you to drive me after school to pick it up. But don't say anything to anyone, I wanna surprise her."
So THAT was it! That was the secret he'd been keeping from her! And the girl she'd caught him with was only his cousin! Isabel felt a wave of guilt pound her as she realized she'd totally misjudged Brad. Here he was trying to make their prom night as special as possible, and she was acting like a totally possessive, suspicious bitch!
Well... at least he'll never know about it.
"Gosh, Izz", hissed a voice next to her, "looks like you're all wet!"
Isabel jerked around, but saw no one... until a pair of angry-looking green eyes popped into view. A split-second later she felt a shove and found herself toppling over into the shower. She landed with a splash on her stomach, making both boys turn around. Stunned, the wind knocked out of her, Isabel sat up... and was horrified to look at her self and see her naked breasts and pubic area... VISIBLE! The water had washed the vanishing cream right off them!
Isabel scrambled to her feet, eyes darting about for a towel. Finding none, and panicking, she fled the locker room, heart thundering, pausing only long enough to glance in a sink mirror and see that only the front of her body had gotten wet. Her face and back still hidden, she looked like a living headless Renaissance sculpture!
Okay... Okay... At least they don't know WHO it is, she thought, trying desperately to calm herself. Now I've just gotta hide! But where?? OhmyGod. OhmyGod. OhmyGod...
As she flung open the door to the locker room, she almost had a heart attack: The rest of the class was coming back in!! Isabel pushed past them, trying to cover her exposed parts with her arms, not realizing that her arms were still mostly transparent and couldn't conceal a thing! The water continued to run down the front of her body, her bare pink skin slowly appearing in rivulets, like flesh-colored paint. The group of boys stood transfixed, staring at the bizarre sight, until one daring freshman reached out to touch her breast! Isabel SHRIEKED, spotted the emergency exit and lunged for it, bursting outside, setting off a ringing alarm in the process. A few curious boys followed. Isabel just RAN, around the side of the school, then past the main entrance and toward the parking lot, where she prayed her car would offer her some sanctuary.
She had just reached it when the thunder rumbled... and she felt the first drops of rain.
She tried her car door, terrified of the answer.
It was locked.
Students led by teachers began to file out of the front and side entrances, their daily routine interrupted by the fire alarm Isabel had inadvertently set off. The gym class followed, all eyes looking about to see where she went. Brad and Jeff appeared with towels wrapped around their waists.
The rain began pouring down, dissolving every bit of the cream from Isabel's body, and people began to notice her. Eyes stared. Hands tapped on the shoulders next to them and pointed. Heads turned and whispered. A wave of murmurs passed through the crowd. No one cared that they were getting wet, everyone's attention was focused squarely on the naked girl in the parking lot.
Isabel began to despair. Yes, she was proud of her beautiful body, but she didn't want the whole school leering at it, not like this! As the last of her invisibility melted away, Isabel covered her face with her hands, hoping frantically to at the very least save herself from being recognized. But someone who knew her a bit more intimately spotted the sunburst tattoo above her pubic area, and the heart on her left butt-cheek.
"Holy shit, dude!" Brad exclaimed to Jeff. "That's Isabel!!"
People heard him, and the talk spread anew. Laughter picked up as classmates once snubbed by the popular girl and "friends" she'd stabbed in the back began taunting and mocking Isabel. Boys and girls alike threw lewd, jeering comments her way.
Soaked to the bone, her hair in soggy tangles, poor Isabel just kept her face buried in her hands as she broke down sobbing from the awful humiliation of being exposed naked and sopping wet in front of all her friends, her enemies, her teachers, nearly every single person in her life.
She realized the cruel irony of the situation as she wished, more than anything else in the world, that she could just disappear.
From a window on the second floor, Margie peered through the haze of rain, watching the scene unfold in front of the school. It was a bit hard to see without her glasses, but she couldn't give herself away by wearing them.
It had been a simple matter to slip into the girls' changing room, strip, and use the remainder of the cream on herself. Ordinarily Margie would never have dreamed of doing anything like this, running around school undressed, but her anger over the embarrassment at Isabel's hands made her go through with it, almost without thinking. She had to admit she felt a twinge of guilt, pushing Isabel into the shower and ruining her life as a result, but hey, hadn't Izz just done something similar to her?
Now that she'd felt the rush, knew the thrill that had overcome Isabel, she could sort of understand why the popular girl had acted the way she did. The freedom of being nude, hand-in-hand with the indescribable feeling of power at being unseen, left her reeling, absolutely invincible. This was better than the national science fair, writeups in journals, patents, even better than a Nobel Prize for chemistry!
She'd have to take care to control herself.
She should probably head back and get dressed again.
She wondered how Isabel's clothes would fit her.
(This story is Copyright © May 2004 by ToddCheese.)