Monday

When I got the letter, I almost tore the house down. My mom was all, you know, "Zach, calm down and shit," but I was way too excited. This is the coolest thing ever!

Hi, I'm Zachary Crane, and I'm naked in school!

A lot of us were kinda concerned that they'd shut it down, after all the crap that fell on Brandon last September. And that woulda sucked, you know? A lot of us want to go through it. But they didn't shut it down, it came back in the spring. And even better, they picked me to be one of the first ones in March. Sure, it'd be a little cold, and we'd had the whole long-winter-without-any-Program stuff, but hey, I'm all for it. A chance to strut my naked stuff in public? Hell yeah. You know how the girls are when you're in The Program. Little Zach's gonna be gettin some, if you know what I'm talkin about. It's time to get naked and cut loose!

So I showed up on Monday morning and went straight to Principal Zelvetti's office, which is where the letter told me to go. People gave me weird looks, for no real reason—okay, I was dancing. Hopping up and down the sidewalk, jigging like an idiot. Wouldn't you be excited? It's like your birthday! Okay, Brandon wasn't excited, but, man, that guy's screwed up, isn't he? I mean, tryin to kill himself and all. He's gotten better, but... I mean, Christ.

This time there were sixteen of us, which makes sense. They already figured out that it's a little easier for the Program people to ease in if there's lot of 'em, of both sexes, so that people are distracted. And since there were two from each grade when Brandon and Arie went through, I wasn't surprised that there were three other juniors this time. "Hey," I said, "we're about to become Program people! Program people. That's a stupid word, isn't it? We're about to become Programites!"

Dude. Don't give me looks like that. Huh. See if I keep trying to make jokes with this crowd.

Some of the Programites I recognized. Like, Claire Redecker—you can't help but notice her. Walks around with a mohawk and a pierced lip and a skewed-off tie in black and red stripes. I don't think anyone was surprised to see her there; she's practically an exhibitionist as is. Plus she's graduating come summer, so they'd better get her through it now. And I also recognized one of the seniors from the basketball team, Bill Kaspar. And one of the sophomore girls was really hot.

I dunno how we all crowded into that little room—Zelvetti's office ain't big, you know. It was so cramped in there that I figured it must be time to start—but the Big Woman On Campus (and believe me, she is big) just kept sitting and waiting, and though I had to count on my fingers, I realized there were only fifteen of us there. A bit more counting on my fingers (look, math isn't my strong point, okay?) and I realized we were missing the fourth junior. Since the other two were Pat Gardner and Louise Malatesta, that meant our other girl wasn't here yet. Which was fine with me. Louise Malatesta has a face like a squashed dog. Not exactly what I'm lookin for, if you know what I'm talkin about.

Finally, when everyone was starting to get a bit impatient, someone knocked on the door. "Ah," said Dr. Zelvetti. "Christa, there you are. Come in." The person who entered was kind of short, at least a head shorter than I am, and slim—petite, that's the word—with short blonde hair in sort of an oxbow, curling past her ears, and just the sweetest smile you ever saw.

Oh please make her my partner oh please make her my partner. Not just because she's hella cute. But, I mean... Louise Malatesta? Okay, so she doesn't really look like a squashed dog, but she's definitely not who I wanna spend the next week talking to. Dour little expression and enough pimplle grease to make OPEC drool. I mean, you know?

"All right, now that we're all here," Dr. Zelvetti said. "As you know, The Program has resumed activity here at Mount Hill High. And in case you haven't realized it yet, you've all been selected to be this week's participants. We've spent the past five months refining The Program and evaluating different possible changes. One of them is the duration of this week—those of you who have been watching your calendars know there is a Teacher In-Service day on Friday, meaning you will only be attending school for four days. We decided that a slightly shorter trial time would be wisest.

"We also decided to keep the written records—for those of you who don't know, Arie Chang and Brandon Chambers were asked, after the fact unfortunately, to chronicle the events of their week as part of the evaluatory process we underwent for the past five months. We decided it was a good exercise, and you'll be asked to keep records as well, to be turned in at the end of the week. This isn't an assignment you'll be graded on; if you turn something in, we'll check you off and you're done. We'll be expecting some sort of record, but you needn't say anything you don't want to. Records from Program pairs will also be composited together as appropriate.

"A third change is this." She gathered a bunch of crap off her desk—a set of whistles on long strings—and passed them around the room. "You're permitted to wear these around your neck—in fact, you're encouraged to. If you should come across... Threatening circumstances, shall we say... Then blow on these. We'll announce to the school at large that if anyone hears a whistle, it means there's trouble."

"Like, when Coach Wolfe wants to chew somebody out," I said. God, Coach uses that whistle like a stick.

"Actually, no, Mr. Crane," Dr. Zelvetti said. "To facilitate more effective use of the panic whistles, all the sports coaches have agreed to use other methods for getting their athletes's attention. We feel that Program participant safety is of paramount importance."

"As opposed to what happened to Brandon in the fall," Claire said, lounging on the arm of a chair.

"Yes, as opposed to that," Dr. Zelvetti said. "And of course you are all instructed to stay away from the badlands. We've made every effort we can to increase the safety of the participants, but don't go tempting trouble." And she glared at us, like driving the point home with dull iron nails. I rolled my eyes. Like I'm gonna go looking for trouble. How stupid do you think I am?

Dr. Zelvetti passed out the pamphlets and ran over the basics. I knew the drill: teacher aide, visual demonstration, Rule Three, blablablah. Everybody knows that stuff. Get to the interesting part already, get to the stripping!

Finally she did. The seniors went first, each of them being called on by name to strip and then meet their Program buddies. The seniors also had some other extra duty—they had to, like, watch out for us or some whatever—but that was their problem.

Sometimes it's surprising to find out who has pubic hair and who doesn't. Tells you a lot about what the person expects or hopes to expect. Kinda like finding out what color a girl's bra is, only more direct. Like, Claire Redecker—all gone, no surprise. I mean, you just look at her, you can tell she thinks of herself as one of those Liberated Youths (TM) or whatever. Of course she's got nothin. But her buddy was also bare—and I mean completely. Leg, underarm, groin, ass... The whole works. Which made me wonder what the hell he was thinkin. (Later I found out: speed. He's a professional swimmer, hair slows you down underwater, so he shaves bare, except for his head, and even that's really short. Every tiny bit of a second counts.)

Guess who got partnered with Louise Malatesta? I breathed a sigh of relief on that one, I can tell ya. And after she and Patrick Gardner had been sent on their way, there was only the question of whether me or that other girl—Christie?—was gonna strip first.

"Christa Sternbacher," Dr. Zelvetti said.

Christie stood up. She was wearing a mustard-yellow backpack and a shirt the color of an evergreen tree and brown corduroy pants. And then she wasn't wearing them anymore, just standing there in white cotton panties and bra. And then she wasn't wearing those either. And the whole time, she hadn't lost that cheery little smile. Either this girl's just got a lot of spunk to her, or she's smoking something.

She was cute, too, in a sort of pixie way. Not my type, though. Kinda sucks, you know?—gotta spend an entire week looking at someone you don't really like. Boobs too small, ass too small... Not like she was a stick or anything. I've seen girls who look like boys. That's really not my taste. The more voluptuous, the better. Yeah, you like that? Brandon taught me that word. Well, Meredith, through Brandon. Damn, speaking of which. You want someone who's, like, non-voluptuous? That's Meredith. Not like she doesn't have boobs, but... Jeesh. I dunno how Brandon stands it.

"Zachary Crane," Dr. Zelvetti was saying. Oh yeah. Gotta strip and all that. When I was finished, I presented. "So, guys, whaddaya think, eh?"

Sheesh. See if I ever try to make jokes 'round this crowd again.

So after that, they turned us loose and let us start making our way out. The bell wasn't gonna ring for another few minutes, so I went back to my friends at north Stetsen. I kinda wanted to sneak up on them, but Kelsey was looking the wrong way at the wrong time. "Whoo! So that's where he's been!"

Sajel took one look at me and buried her head in her hands. "Oh God."

"Yes?" I asked cheerily.

"No," Sajel said, not looking up, "fuck you, you don't get to say that today, you're naked, you're going to be insufferable as it is."

"Man, three of us from the same cluster of friends," Brandon said. "There must be something wrong with us."

"What, isn't it obvious," I asked. "Dr. Zelvetti thinks I'm hot."

Everyone stared at me.

"And... This led to... Arie and Brandon... in The Program... How?" said Meredith.

"... Well, she needed an excuse, obviously," I said. "I mean, she couldn't just say, 'Oh, I want Zach naked so that I can ogle his hot bod, I need to ease it all in first. So who's that guy who hangs out with him? Brandon? I think I can... '"

Derek chuckled. "Zach, do you ever live in the real world?"

About then the bell rang, though, so I didn't really get a chance to answer him. Live in the real world—what the hell does that mean? Who actually lives in "the real world" anyway? Stupid MTV show.

When I got to my first class, Geometry, I noticed there was another naked girl there. For a second I was really confused—was that a seventeenth Program participant? But then I remembered that Christie—Christa—whatever—is in Geometry with me. 'K, that explains that. Oh yeah, we're supposed to be buddies. Maybe I shouldn't've just run off and gone and talked to Brandon and everybody. Ah well, I'm sure she has friends of her own to go talk to.

Ms. Sheldy called the class to order. "I see we have two Program participants in our classroom today." She's actually kind of young—probably not older than thirty, and kinda pretty. She teaches math, though, which is like a total turn-off. "I don't suppose either of you need relief at this point." With that, she started the class.

I guess it's kinda funny how much something will make you notice somebody. Most of the time you're just walkin around, doin yr own thing, you know, just chill, cruisin... You pass by the same girl every day and you don't give her a second look. But then, some circumstance—something changes. Maybe she's wearing her hair different. Maybe she's showing a bit more skin than usual. Maybe she just says hi to you when she never has before. And then boof!—suddenly, you're gone, and she's all you can think about.

Tell you the truth, I hate it when that happens. Sure, she's hot, but... I mean, Christ. How come you can just be wanderin around mindin yr own business, and suddenly this random pile of girl-flesh has you twitching around campus like some perverted sprinkler that shoots jizz? I mean, there's like... No point. No point at all. Why bother to try and have self-control when someone can just undo it in half a second by wearing a differently-cut shirt?

So I was kinda annoyed that first period. Because Christa sits one seat over and two seats ahead of me, and I kept looking at her.

It's not like I could see much. The back of her neck, sure, and some of her shoulders; the curve of her cheek, depending on how her head turned. And that was it; the chair, the person sitting behind her, blocked it all out. I couldn't even see her ass, 'cause the guy's knee was in the way. (Really in the way. Betcha that guy had an erection all day. Hell, betcha her ass had jeans-patterns imprints for the rest of the day.) So, I dunno what I was staring at.

Though I kept seeing her face as she came into Dr. Zelvetti's office: that broad, pleasant face and its smile and its dark blue eyes, like the sun lingering in the sky at dusk; and the strange sheen of her hair—bet you she dyed it; and her body, slim and proud even though most of the girls and maybe some of the guys had bigger boobs than she; and even though she wasn't the sort of girl I normally go for, I couldn't get her out of my head.

... Of course, I'm probably playing it too strongly. See, she's in my English class too, along with Sajel and Arie and Brandon, so I had nearly two hours to be constantly distracted by her. But, like. I think I had it bad.

After Geometry ended, we had to walk across Stetsen to get down to Mr. Cavanaugh's English in the basement (one of the reasons we hang out there is because everybody's classes seem to be there), and of course I tried to talk to her. "Hey, so, how's this naked thing going for you?"

"I dunno," she said, giving me a dose of that ever-present smile of hers. "It's only been one period. Ask me again later."

"'cause, you know, not everyone adjusts to it really well," I said.

"I know," she said. "I heard about all that stuff with Brandon... Well, I saw some of it. Remember when nobody wanted to give him relief that one time?" Like I said, we're in that English class together. And we were walking to it, too. Talk about serendipity or whatever.

"I hope that never happens to me," I said fervently. I mean, it's okay for losers like Brandon, but it'd be embarrassing if I turned out to be such an outcast.

She smiled at me. "It probably won't. I'm kinda worried about myself, honestly. I mean, I don't flatter myself—I'm not, like, the hottest girl in school or anything—but I hope people don't think I'm that unattractive."

"Oh, well, there's an easy solution to that," I said. I think, at this point, my mouth had sort of disengaged the safeties and was running off on its own. It does that kind of frequently, sometimes. "If you want relief, I'll volunteer. And you can do the same to me."

Christa gave me a sort of weird look, kind of skeptical and kind of amused. And then said, "Okay, I guess. At least we won't be embarrassed."

Heh. Score.

"I mean, I guess that's what Program buddies are for," she continued. "It makes sense, if you think about it."

Heh. Score!

Mr. Cavanaugh didn't arrive until most of the passing period had passed—he's always late like that—so we had time to stand around talking. The last time I'd come down this hallway and seen people naked, they'd been Arie and Brandon. Today, the situation was reversed: they came in whooping. "Look at him," Sajel said. "Isn't it cute when they're so thin you can see their ribs?"

"Is this your buddy," Brandon asked.

"Yeah," I said. I was going to introduce her, but Sajel beat me to the punch. "Wow, Christa," she said, "I hadn't realized you were the type to sign up."

Christa shrugged. "It sounded like fun." She turned to Brandon. "Though I understand it wasn't so great for you."

"Ah, well," Brandon said, shrugging it off. "It could've been worse. No harm done."

"What's the whistle for," Arie asked, and Christa explained. "See," Arie said, "they learned something from you, Brandon."

"It must've been really hard for you," Christa said to Brandon. "Having to go through that. You must be really brave."

Brandon and Sajel and Arie and I exchanged glances. What, was she crushing on him or something? Or maybe she's just always like this. You look at Christa, there's something really uncomplicated about her—she probably means everything she says. And probably says what she means. Wears her heart out on her sleeve, you know? Except, she didn't have a sleeve today. Maybe she could hang it off her nipples instead.

"Well, if there's anyone I know who's brave, it's Brandon," I said grandly, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. "Did you know this guy once faced down—"

"Off, off with the naked guy," Brandon said mildly, pushing me away. "You know about the rules on hugs, Zach."

"What, what rules on hugs," I asked, confused. Is there something I'm missing?

"Only on special occasions," Brandon said, a secret smile hovering about his face.

"Like bank holidays," Sajel said.

"Or if something bad happens," Arie said in her little-girl voice, "like if your mommy's on fire, or you misplace your elbow, or—"

"And you didn't fill out the required forms, so..." Brandon heaved a sigh of inestimable regret. "I'm gonna have to write you a ticket."

"I see how it is," I said loftily. "My friends turning on me." I slung an arm around Christa's shoulders. "Well, at least I have my buddy to rely on."

"Whoa, off with the naked guy," Christa said, grinning, and everybody laughed, and I removed my arm. Sheesh. Some friends. Ganging up on me.

Mr. Cavanaugh seemed somewhat amused by our nakedness. "Two from my class the first week, two from my class the second week. I wonder if Principal Zelvetti is trying to send me a message." I saw Brandon and Sajel and Arie exchanging glances. More like, I wonder if Principal Zelvetti is trying to send us a message. But, then again, since Sajel's the only one who hasn't done it yet...

The rest of the morning passed pretty smoothly. A couple of girls stopped me in the hall to do some medical examination, if you know what I'm talkin about, and I'm all like, Sure, step right up! I mean, you know! But then they said they had to go get on to class and left before they'd barely started. I didn't get it. If you're not interested, why ask?

"Ah, Señor Crane. ¿Me parece que éste significa que estás en El Programa?"

"Si, Señora Tchabalala." Yes, that's her last name. She's from Africa. I don't know how she got involved in Spanish.

"¿Necesitas alivo?"

I said, "Nesse-what??"

"Relief, Mr. Crane, relief," Ms. Tchabalala said. "Alivo. The English word is alleviate. Dou you require relief?"

"Oh, no. No." English word. Who needs fancy English words? Oh crap, I'm supposed to be speaking Spanish. "Uh. No necesito, Señora, gracias."

After that class was over, it was break time, and I headed back to Stetsen. Surprisingly, I saw Meredith and Sajel and Christa all walking back together, deep in conversation. Meredith knows her too?

"What class was that," I asked them. "That you just got out of, I mean."

They all blinked at me. "AP US History," Meredith said blankly.

Christ. Christa's one of those brainy girls! Code Red, Code Red, situation Brainy!

... Not that it's bad if a girl has brains. They're really useful for study sessions that way. And for group projects. But that's just not, you know, just not what I'm looking for. Why? Well. Because, in my general experience: the brainier a girl is, the less likely she is to put out. I mean, cripes, look at Jane. She's like the smartest person I know—but we saw what happened with her. Probably be a virgin on her death bed. And look what it got her: Brandon's got Meredith now. Who does put out. Guess she's not in any of the smart person classes.

Oh, wait. US History AP.

Huh. Weird. Way to throw everything I knew about girls into disarray. Well, maybe she's the exception that proves the rule. Or... Something.

Brandon and all the others were talking to Christa. "How are you adjusting?"

"Pretty well," Christa said. "Some guys stopped me in the hall and felt me up, but nothing, like, serious has happened." Does nothing faze this girl? You could, like, just whip out Mr. Happy and she probably wouldn't bat an eyelash.

Sajel grinned. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, well, passing period's only five minutes, and it takes a little more than that," Christa scoffed. "But, yeah. Ask me again after lunch. I bet I'll have a better answer."

"Better hurry," Sajel said, "you've only got four days total."

"Yeah, that's kinda of disappointing," Christa said. "I mean, talk about getting ripped off."

"Well, at least people are actually touching you," Arie said blandly. "Took them until about Thursday to get used to us." She indicated Brandon with a toss of her head.

"That must've been hard," Christa said, sympathy in her voice.

"Well, it kinda depends on whether you wanna be touched or not," Arie said with the same faceless blankness. She does that really well.

"I suppose that's true," Christa said.

"I mean, you're just okay with people randomly feeling you up," Sajel asked. "Damn. I'd consider myself open-minded, but I think it'd take me some getting used to."

"No, it is weird," Christa said. "Don't get me wrong, it is a little weird. I mean, I've had my share of boys touching me there, but people just coming up to you is a little different. But it's okay. I want it to happen."

I saw a curious look in Sajel's eyes, but Derek just laughed. "Isn't that kind of a reversal? I mean, you'd think it'd be the guys going in because they want to get felt up. And I bet there are girls who'd look down on that sort of motive."

"Well, I'm not one of those old-fashioned prudes," Christa said sharply. "It's a new world now. I'm not a virgin, I like sex, that's normal, and anyone who doesn't agree with me needs to wake up and join the 21st century."

I met Brandon's eyes, surprised. Christa? Militant?

"And besides," Christa said, "now I'm making an impact. Too many people just don't notice me—and the people who do, they're the wrong kind."

"I guess that explains your massive repertoire of sexual experience," said Sajel, so smoothly that Christa missed the sarcasm. I almost would've too, if I hadn't known Sajel for years. Why did she think Christa was lying about that?

"I don't understand why nobody would look at you," Arie said, "you're really pretty."

"Thanks," Christa said, smiling and pleased.

"And you, like, actually have boobs," Arie added.

"Oh, Christ," Derek said.

"Arie, hon, we've been over this," Meredith said.

"What, what," Christa said, her eyes darting from person to person, confused.

"Arie thinks her boobs are tiny," I explained. I don't know what that girl's on, sometimes. They aren't. There's nothing wrong with them at all.

"That's nonsense," Christa said immediately. "Arie, they're very nice boobs."

"Now if you were me, on the other hand," Meredith said, a dry smile on her face.

"Yes, but you look good too," Arie retorted. "Everyone loves your face. They all think you're cute." To which Meredith didn't know what to say. I think they're all stoned—I honestly don't see what's so pretty about her face. It's kinda pointy; she has a really prominent chin, enough that it almost makes a dimple with her lower lip, and some crazy cheekbones. But everyone else likes it. I mean, it's practically school-wide unanimous. So, that shut Meredith down.

"Okay, look," said Derek, "let's just put this to rest once and for all. Arie, what— Never mind, you're not gonna tell me. Arie, stay still." He pulled the back of her shirt up. "36B."

Arie's eyes grew wide when she realized what Derek had just done. But Sajel immediately said, "Well, I shouldn't be telling you perverts this, but I'm about a 32A, sometimes a B. Depends on the brand, maybe, or what time of the month it is."

To my surprise, Christa volunteered. "32A."

"Hah," said Meredith, grinning. "Beat you all. 30AA."

"And we have a winner," Brandon said, smiling and looking into her eyes, and put his arms around her and gave her a big kiss. Gag. Those two. Alarmingly, Christa was giving them that look that means she thinks it's cute. Cute, my ass. Get a room before you contaminate the world with love bubbles.

"And weren't you saying that sometimes you need a C instead, depending on the circumstances?" Derek said.

"You're actually the biggest here," Sajel said, grinning. "So no more whining, bitch."

"Aww," Arie said.

"And if we find our stats scrawled on a bathroom stall somewhere, we're killing all three of you to be safe," Sajel said.

"Ooh!" said Arie. "I'll help!"

"And Arie," Meredith said, "I think your response during The Program was a little bit biased. People... Well, people think you're weird sometimes. If you hadn't had that stigma, you know you would've gotten a lot of attention otherwise. There are a lot of breast-men out there."

"Did somebody call my name," I asked cheerily.

"Dude," Brandon said, his arm around Meredith's waist, "last week you said you were an ass man."

"I'm an everything man," I said, shrugging. "Female in general."

"Heh. I hear ya, brother," Brandon said, and we high-fived. Meredith looked somewhere between irked and amused.

"Well," said Christa. "I should probably go talk to my friends and assure them I haven't been killed or anything. Thanks, guys. It was nice talking to you."

"It was nice talking to you," Brandon offered diplomatically. "Drop by any time, we're always here."

Christa set off, heading up into Norter wing. Before she reached the first row of lockers, somebody had already accosted her with a Rule Three. We all watched for a minute as he pawed at her tits.

"She's a nice girl," Meredith said.

"Very nice," Brandon said.

"I hadn't realized I shared so many classes with her," Sajel remarked. "But now that she's naked..."

"I guess people weren't noticing her in general," Meredith said. "I mean, she's pretty, but... Sometimes it takes that extra something."

"Yeah, like naked," Derek said dryly.

"She does have nice tits, though," Sajel said. "Maybe 10% too small, but just the right shape."

Derek scoffed. "What's a girl doing looking at tits?"

"Hon, who's more competent to judge?" Arie drawled. "The ones who's drooling over 'em, or the one who has 'em?"

Christa's naked ass twitched from side to side as she walked. One thing I did like was her haircut—short. I dunno why, it's just my taste. And that smile was nice too. And the way she just absorbed everything... So calm. Couldn't make her jump if yr life depended on it.

"What do you think, Zach," Brandon asked.

I wasn't paying attention. Something came out of my mouth. "I dunno, I don't think she's my type."

After that, it took about five seconds for me to realize everyone was staring at me. "What?" I said.

"Well, I kinda meant about who'd be competent to judge," Brandon said, "but..."

"If she's not your type, why are you staring," Arie asked.

"I..." I said.

"Well, she is the first naked woman he's seen in almost ten days," Sajel said, "maybe his hormones are overwhelming him."

"Yeah, but even then he doesn't stare like that," Brandon said. "I'm not sure he was even listening to us."

"I think Christa would be good for you," Meredith said.

Everyone looked at her for a second. Including me.

"Wow," Sajel said. "Meredith's right for once in her life. Christa would be a marked improvement over the girls you normally date, in that she has brain cells."

"Very much not airhead," Derek agreed.

"Hey, what's wrong with the airheads?" I protested.

"You just explained it," Derek grinned.

"Well, so, maybe they can't hold like a philosophical discourse or somethin," I said. "I'm not looking for quantum physics. I wanted that, I'd date a textbook."

"So what are you looking for?" Meredith said.

"You have to ask," Brandon said. He pointed between my legs. Meredith's eyebrows went up, and she nodded.

"What, so what," I said. "What's wrong with sex?"

"Zach, there's more to life than sex," Brandon said, grinning from ear to ear.

Yeah right. Maybe for him, but he's a freak. What's up with him, anyway. What's up with all of them. Just because I'm looking at someone I've never looked at before. That isn't any reason to, like, interrogate me.