The Turtleneck
"Are you wearing a dress today?" asked Mom.
"Yes," I said. It was a cool day, but most of the girls would be wearing dresses today. If I didn't, I'd probably stick out like a sore thumb.
"Which one?" she asked.
"The blue jumper, I guess."
"You have to wear a shirt under it."
"I'll wear the turtle neck," I said. At least my neck would be warm.
I put on my sports bra and found a pink full slip to wear underneath my dress, then put on my white turtle neck sweater to wear over them. Next came clean underpants. At least I'd finished my period last week, so I wouldn't have to worry about that. I pulled out and put on a pair of pantyhose. They had several runs, but my dress would be long enough to cover them up. Besides, I could wear my boots. I put on a pair of white sox over the hose, then put on my boots.
I then went to the can and put on my lipstick and eye shadow. Mom was still ironing the dress as I came out. I fixed a bowl of corn flakes as she finished.
"Here, try it on," she said before I could sit down to eat. I pulled it on and she zipped it up in the back. I finished breakfast and headed to the bus stop. The bus was late--as usual--but I still got to school with a few minutes to spare.
First period science was my least favorite class, mainly because Mr. Abernethy was so boring. I took a few notes, unlike most of my classmates, who were trying to catch up on their sleeping.
"Mr. Nelson," said Mr. Abernethy to a boy who was sitting across the aisle from me. He was repeating the class because he'd failed it as a freshman. He was one of those who appeared to be asleep. "See Ms. Tufts over there? See anything unusual about her eyes?"
He looked at me. "Huh?"
"Look closely at her eyes, Nelson. You'll notice something unusual about them."
He looked at me again. "I dunno. They're blue?"
"Yes, you've noticed the color. Next year, when you have a go at biology, you'll learn more about eye color, as some of your friends are doing now. But today, I want you to notice that her eyes are fully open. I know this may come as shock to you, Mr. Nelson, but having your eyes open in first-period physical science is a good way to earn a 'C' grade or even better."
I guess it was true. I never studied much for tests, and never had any homework, but still got solid 'B's.
We did a worksheet over plant reproduction or something the rest of the period, and I turned my paper in. We waited at the door for the bell to ring.
Second period was girls' P.E. Changing out of a dress was always a chore. I always put my gym shorts on before taking off anything else (except for the pantyhose, sox and boots, of course). I put on a T-shirt after I'd taken everything else off and folded my stuff up and stuck it in my locker. Since the school didn't provide showers or towels, I made sure I didn't work up too much of a sweat. We only had to run a couple of laps around the school track, then we got to go into the gym and play basketball or volleyball. I always chose volleyball. I hated the sport, but I was a good server, and most of the other girls that I played with preferred to get down on the floor and chase the ball, like it really mattered.
After a half hour of volleyball, we had to change back into our school clothes. After taking off my T-shirt and spraying my armpits with deodorant, I threw on my dress over the sports bra and shorts, then put the turtle neck on over the dress. I wore my boots over my gym sox, and left my regular sox, pantyhose and slip in the locker.
Third period was English. Mrs. White always had us reading and writing. Gary Nelson, the boy who was in my science class, had also flunked English, so he was in this class as well. Mrs. White was rather young, I suppose, and Gary was always looking at her. I think he was in love. He probably fantasized that she was getting divorced, though she had told us she was happily married and had two kids.
Fourth period was math. Mr. West was trying to teach us how to factor polynomials. I never could get it. For some reason, he liked me, however, and gave me and some of the other girls extra attention when we asked for it. "If you count the pleats in your dress," he had told me some other time when I wore the jumper, "you will almost certainly come up with a Fibonacci number." I had counted them and told him the next day how many there were, but he had forgotten why he had had me count them, and I couldn't remember "Fibonacci." So I don't know if he was right or not.
Lunch break was next (I had fifth-period lunch), and after eating I went to the locker room and put my slip back on. I took off my gym shorts, but decided to leave my pantyhose in the locker. I also changed my turtle neck so it was back on under my dress.
Sixth period was social studies. We were studying the history of central Africa, mainly because we had our school's only black teacher, Mr. Okandy. His accent was so damn thick I understood almost nothing, but I got 'A's mainly because he tested us completely out of the textbook he used, and the tests were all multiple choice. Once in a while he showed us a movie about the Nile or something, and we got to sleep in class.
Seventh period was business ed. I took it as an elective, though some students used it for career education credit. Most of the time we worked on computers and did projects, though a lot of us sat around and talked whenever the teacher was helping students at the far end of the room. "Have you finished your project for today?" Mrs. Haskins would ask. We'd say yes and have the printer spit out some neatly organized spreadsheet documents. She'd look over them, scowl about a misspelled word or two, then give us our 'A's and 'B's.
After school, I went to the locker to get my pantyhose. I debated putting them on, then decided there wasn't much point, since the day was finished. About a third of the girls at school had worn dresses, a bit below what I'd expected, but I couldn't really follow the practices of the herd, as much as I liked to. I stuffed the hose into my backpack and headed for the door when I heard the most ungodly sound imaginable. It sounded like a groan, then a scream. I walked to the back of the locker room, where I found a slightly cracked open door to the girls' coaches' office. I peeked in, with a mixture of anticipation and dread.
Happily married and the mother of two or not, Mrs. White was facing the far wall bouncing up and down on Gary Nelson's lap. They were both looking in the same direction, but I knew Gary's bad haircut anywhere. His pants were down around his feet, and I had little doubt as to what they were doing. I quietly reached inside the door to lock it, then slowly closed it. When I did, the moaning was greatly reduced.
I started to walk out of the locker room. "What are you doing here, Ms. Tufts?" It was Ms. Van Dyke, the girl's P.E. teacher, who spoke.
"I left my nylons in my locker," I said, holding them up.
"Isn't your locker over there?" she said. She pointed in the direction of my locker.
"I was also thirsty," I said, pointing at the drinking fountain. "I forgot that one was broken."
"What were you doing by the coaches' room?" she asked.
Oh, boy, I thought. "I thought the office might be open. Isn't there a fountain in there?"
She glared. "Don't come in here after school again," she said.
"Yes, Ms. Van Dyke," I said, and left.
Riding the bus home, I thought about how many weird things had happened while I was wearing the turtle neck. I had previously found out that at least two of my teachers (though I didn't know which, I suspected Ms. Van Dyke was one) were gay, that Mr. West smoked pot, that Mr. Okandy had once tortured a prisoner while he was in the militia in Africa, and that Mrs. Haskins had a tattoo.
"What did you learn in school today?" asked Mom as I got home.
"Not much," I said. "Mr. West tried to help us factor polynomials," I added. "We did a worksheet on plant reproduction in science."
"Just so long as I know when you study human reproduction," she said.
"Yes, Mom," I said. I was glad I wasn't taking a lie-detector test just then.
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