Naked in School-Kevin and Denise
I woke up Monday morning, thankful that my night had been peaceful, and then wondered where I was. Oh! That’s right, I realized I had slept in the day-bed in the den and that Denise was in my room. When I went off to the bathroom, I heard her moving around in my room, so I knocked and she told me she’d be right out. She’d already had her shower and was almost ready. She wanted to call the hospital to see how her mom was doing.
I did my morning routine and then got dressed for the Program unveiling to come in about an hour or so. When I got to the kitchen, Aunt Helene and Denise were chatting and breakfast was ready. I asked Denise if she had remembered to dress for her unveiling; she made a face at me and said, “How could I forget?”
She opened her blouse to show me and then she and Aunt Helene giggled.
“Kevin, I spoke to Mom. She’s ok, no TIA, but her blood sugar was low so her doc will need to check her for what could have caused that. She’s getting picked up by a friend to go home and she can go to work later today.”
“That’s good news.”
“Yeah. And she can bring me to my therapy session after school too.”
After breakfast we got our stuff together and left for school. Denise looked thoughtful. Then she turned to me.
“Oh, I guess I really haven’t thought about it, but what’ll happen to me in gym? I’m scared, I’ll need to be in the boys’ locker room without you. And using the boys’ restrooms too?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. The restrooms are easy; just go during classes, not between, and take a Guardian to watch the door. For gym, here’s what you will do. I’ll bet that when you do this, there’ll be a huge outcry of ‘foul,’ but we’re going to do precisely what the Program booklet says is required. Here’s how we’ll do it...”
I told her; she grinned, saying, “I like it,” and kissed my cheek.
We arrived at school and went to our home room. After the day’s announcements were read, the names of eight students were read.
“Will the following students please report to the office. Seniors: Sarah Parr and Andrew Raden. Juniors: Kevin Coris and Denise Roberts. Sophomores: Barbara Mendes and Nelson Ryder. Freshmen: James Standish and Jane Wollens. Thank you.”
Denise looked at me and grimaced. “Well, here it goes...” she muttered.
The teacher looked at us and wiggled her hand toward the door. “Off you go, now. We’ll be seeing a lot more of you later, I think.”
The class tittered. Yeah, it’s another comedian wanna-be.
We walked to the office slowly and were joined by the others who were arriving from different hallways. When we got there, we saw Abover standing inside, near the door, holding a paper, apparently checking each kid off. Then we went into Fletcher’s office; he was just putting the last box on the stack near his desk. He looked up as we walked in, and then went to his chair and sat.
“You’re all here now, good. I’m certain that you all know what this is about today, right? No questions at all about the Program, correct? Everyone knows what we’re doing? Good.”
Abover came in and shut the door and stood in front of it.
“Now, are there any last-minute questions?”
Jimmy raised his hand. “Yes, Mr Standish?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment during school hours on Thursday that was made last month. I won’t get a penalty for missing the last period then, will I?”
Abover began to speak but Fletcher cut him off. “No, no penalty. Being on the Program doesn’t mean your regular life needs to end.”
We all looked at each other like, oh really? The Program is like “regular” life?
Dr Fletcher looked around the room. “Anyone else? Ok, this is going much better than last week so far. Let’s keep that up, please. It’s that time now.”
This was the moment. I mentally crossed my fingers. The others began to slowly undress and I noticed that Abover was watching us intently with a hungry look. Sarah noticed his expression too, and whispered to me, “That man is evil. Look at the way he’s watching.” I nodded in agreement.
I whispered to Denise, “Still ok? Not feeling faint?”
“No, just kinda nervous.”
I tried not to watch the others, just keeping a eye on Denise. She had slipped off her top and was now unbuttoning her shorts. She stepped out of them and stood up, dropped the top and shorts into her box, and stood still, looking at the floor. Her only remaining clothing was a modest two-piece swim suit. The moment of truth had arrived.
“Denise? You’re not finished; please continue?” Fletcher said, his voice rising as she turned toward him and looked at him with a determined expression. “I see from your expression that that’s as far as you plan to go, am I correct?”
I figured that he had also been thinking about our “compromise” agreement. The others had paused undressing to watch the tableau.
“Yes, sir. This is my safety equipment,” she said, indicating her attire.
Abover bellowed, “WHAT? You need to strip, girl. There’s no such thing as an ordinary bathing suit being ‘safety equipment’! You were told to strip.”
I turned to Abover. He looked enraged; his face was beet red.
“Mr Abover,” I said sweetly, “you do recall the document that you, together with a number of other people, signed about our Program participation? The one that Mr Merotta agreed to as well?”
“That said nothing about clothes being safety equipment. It said that you kids agreed to follow the rules and you had to do that anyway, so that paper is meaningless.”
“I beg to differ, sir. It said we agreed to follow the Program rules as written in the booklet.”
“Same thing!” he growled.
“Not quite. Miss Roberts’ attire is ‘safety equipment’ within the meaning of the Program rules.”
“You must be crazy if you think that.”
“Well, I’ll show you. Here on page 2 it says, quote, ‘Appropriate safety equipment may be worn if required under certain circumstances, for example...’ Now the Program booklet doesn’t define any of the terms in that rule, so to know what they mean we need a dictionary. Dr Fletcher, can you look up ‘appropriate’ for us, please?”
He tried to hide a little grin as he reached for the book. “Appropriate: suitable or proper in the circumstances.”
“‘Safety,’ please?”
“Safety: the condition of being protected from or unlikely to cause danger, risk, or injury.”
“Finally ‘equipment’?”
“Equipment: the necessary items for a particular purpose.”
Abover was turning even redder; I didn’t think it was possible. Maybe he’ll have a stroke.
“Now,” I continued, “according to the ADA, the law that the school must observe, if a student has a disability, the school MUST provide an accommodation to allow the disabled student to attend and not make any impediments to that attendance. Miss Roberts has a medically documented disability provided by a recognized authority and the school is compelled to recognize that as an ADA disability.
“In that context, we can see how this safety equipment rule applies. The garment is ‘appropriate’ because it serves its intended purpose for accommodating the disability. ‘Safety’ applies because the lack of its use will risk her health and cause her injury. The garment is ‘equipment’ because it’s an item for a particular purpose, which is to provide her with safety.”
“Ok, then, now I’ve got you. There’s a list of safety equipment right under the rule that you’re trying to change. I don’t see bathing suits anywhere in that list.”
“You’re right, it’s not. Dr Fletcher, how is ‘example’ defined?”
“Example: a thing characteristic of its kind or illustrating a general rule.”
“So, Mr Abover, ‘bathing suit’ isn’t there because it doesn’t need to be. That list of items is not exclusive and other things that provide safety are included by the word’s definition as a class of items. I don’t see ‘goggles’ on the list but that’s clearly a safety item. Neither do I see listed there an orthopedic torso brace that kids with scoliosis need to wear.”
The other kids were trying to keep from laughing and Dr Fletcher was looking bemused. Then he turned to look at me and was about to say something when suddenly Abover wheeled around, opened the door, and stalked out, slamming the door shut. His last words as he left were, “We’ll see who gets the last word here...”
Fletcher drummed his fingers on his desk. Then he looked up. “Hey guys, you need to finish undressing!”
The others kind of shook themselves out of their daze and continued removing their clothes. I glanced at them. Wow, Sarah, under her baggy clothes, had quite a wonderful figure. She had light blond hair and sported a pair of lovely, firm C-cup tits and a shaved pubis, long legs, slim waist, and a cute ass.
The other girls were also very pretty, especially Jane, who was a pixie-like cutie. She was about 5'3" and had black hair, a perky set of B-cup breasts, a light dusting of black hair on her crotch that drew your eyes right to it—a triangle that seemed to point down to her hidden treasures saying, “look here!” and an ass to die for. She kind of made me think that if she had little wings, she would be like a cute fairy.
The sophomore, Barbara, was almost as pretty. She was taller, about 5'8" and had auburn hair, a nice firm chest rack—maybe D-cup—not my taste, and her crotch hair was shaved into a long, thin strip above her slit. Barbara’s ass was also terrific. Not quite as nice as Jane’s, but still... When she bent over to put an item in her box, I could see her pussy lips peeking out between her thighs. Was the stripping session turning her on?
But Denise, now. Even in her modest swimsuit, she was absolutely stunning. Her chest, now that I could see it without a blouse, seemed to be around a C-cup on the smaller side and she had a figure that many models would die for. Wow, I wish I could get to see her naked. Oh, well, that’s not likely to happen anytime soon.
The guys? Don’t ask; I don’t care about how guys look. Maybe later, when the others relate their own stories, they’ll tell you about the guys. I did notice that all three were sporting hardons, and two of them seemed to be quite respectable, not that I have ever had a chance to make any comparisons. I was stripping off too, all the way down to my spandex cycling tights. Yep, these would be great because of the large amount of crotch padding they provided. This would be way better than wearing a cup all day and would give almost as much protection while immobilizing the goods inside.
Fletcher looked at my garb appraisingly. “So I gather that’s your own ‘safety equipment.’ Am I correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Exactly what benefit does it provide, if I may ask?”
“Protection from the symptoms and effects of a penile nerve lesion, sir.” I actually had rehearsed that answer.
“Eeewwww,” from a couple of the girls.
The bell for the end of home room rang and Fletcher stood up. “Well, Denise and Kevin, I expect to be hearing soon from the district Program office so don’t be surprised if we need to call for you later. Ah. I almost forgot to mention, the girls must see the nurse today without fail so she can check your birth-control status. Ok, guys, out of here now and good luck for the week. Your Guardians will be waiting for you in the hall.”
I looked at the others’ faces. Stoic expressions on the guys’, frightened on the girls’. Ready or not, they had to face what awaited us in the school’s halls. In some ways I felt like I had let the other six down by not joining them in their nudity, but even if I wanted to do it, my body would have rebelled.
I followed the naked group to the door, holding Denise’s hand.
They emerged from the office ahead of us to a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles. The Guardian people had formed a bubble of space between the crowd and the door, and as our group emerged, Guardians paired off with the Program people. Because of our disabilities, Denise and I had apparently been assigned two Guardians each.
“Thanks, guys,” I said to them, “I don’t really need a full-time Guardian—I can take care of myself.” The four laughed at that. “Denise does; she might be a target when touching is allowed and I plan to be at her side all the time. But if I can’t be with her for some reason, please take care of her, ok? Denise, do you think that we’d only need two Guardians between us?” She agreed. “Ok, why don’t two of you be backups for the other girls?”
They consulted and then two of them split off from us. Then we left for class, leaving behind a gang of confused students, who were calling to us to ask why we weren’t naked. As we walked, we told our Guardians what the deal was with our clothing and how it was a medical necessity. But my thoughts were with the others in our group; I was concerned about what was happening to them. Well, we’d learn about that pretty soon.
When we reached our first period classroom, our Guardians left us as we went into the room and sat down at our desks. Miss Wilson came into the room and her eyes fell on the two of us. The bell hadn’t rung yet so she walked closer to us.
“You’re on the Program; so why are you still dressed?”
I was actually prepared to answer that question, um, 25 times today. Twenty-five times because I had 25 printouts prepared that explained our non-nudity in three sentences.
“Miss Wilson, to save time and you have a written record, I made this copy,” and handed her a sheet.
She read it with an undecipherable expression. Then she looked at my covered crotch and then up at my face. “Hmmmm. I’m guessing you won’t need relief. You, Miss Roberts?” Denise shook her head. “Ok, then, but I want you for class participation anyway. Let’s see...”
She turned and walked to the front as the bell rang. Meanwhile, the classroom had filled up and the kids were looking at us curiously. I heard snatches of comments, “Should be naked...” “...wearing something?” “...swimsuit...”
Miss Wilson tapped for attention. “Class, I had planned in Civics today to cover the sexual revolution of the 1960s and involve our Program participants in an active way. Their non-nudity means I need to make some alterations. What I’ll do is ask Miss Roberts and Mr Coris to come up here and lead the class in a discussion of the social and cultural problems that non-conformity with rules presents for the community. You may begin by explaining the basis of your nudity exemption and how the Program rules allow you to be partly clothed.”
Denise and I went to the front. We had figured that something like this would come up in Civics class today in a discussion, not a presentation. But the two of us had gotten a really good background in what we were doing, both from Bob Charlesworth and from the ADA defense we had on Friday with the district Program rep.
I whispered to Denise, “Why don’t you start with a general explanation of your disability; then I’ll do mine; then we’ll tell them about the ADA and how it supercedes the Program rules.”
“Ok, that should work.”
She began and the two of us went through the whole dog-and-pony show again, telling the class how the ADA was developed to help bring people with disabilities into the community mainstream by providing them with access to education opportunities and employment which had been denied to significant numbers of people who became disabled during their life and had been forced out of schools or jobs because schools or employers found accommodating their disabilities to be too inconvenient or costly.
After we had covered that part, Miss Wilson asked the class for questions and we got the typical ones, like how far did an employer have to go to make an accommodation, what happened if someone had an accident and could no longer do the job he had, how employing disabled people helped the community as a whole—questions that we could answer.
“Now, Kevin and Denise, just how do your disabilities fit your sort-of exemption from the Program? It would seem that you would be exempt, given what you’ve explained to us so well,” Miss Wilson continued.
Denise answered, “Exactly. We could have demanded an absolute exemption but the Program officials threatened the school with cutting its federal funding if they followed the ADA and exempted us, so Kevin arranged for this compromise. Although they didn’t know it was a compromise so we expect another visit from them real soon,” she ended with a wry laugh.
Miss Wilson turned to the class. “What they’ve described shows what can happen when the provisions of one law of a society come into direct conflict with another law. This is an excellent example of such a case. Now thinking back and with your knowledge of American history, can you think of any other examples?”
The rest of the class continued with a spirited discussion of slavery, civil rights, women’s rights, immunization policies, gay marriage; the areas we covered ranged widely. This had turned into an interesting class.
When the bell rang it surprised us all. We were in the middle of discussing gay marriage, so Miss Wilson told us we could pick up that discussion tomorrow.
Next was Biology, so we started off to that classroom with no small amount of trepidation. Our Guardian escort did a good job in controlling the number of Requests that were made of us, but our partial clothing no doubt was a tremendous factor in keeping away the trolls. But I couldn’t help but feel a sympathetic pang for what our naked participants were facing.
Denise and I were really very concerned about the Biology class. We were wondering what we’d be made to do and how I could answer any demand for a class “demo.” Well, we quickly found that we would need to wait another day to see what would happen because our teacher was absent and we had a sub, an old guy who just basically reviewed some of the material from last week and virtually read to us, out of our biology text, the chapter we had been assigned on Friday. Wasted class.
The sub seemed about 90 percent brain-dead. The only time he looked at us was when he came in. He looked at Denise’s and my attire, I said simply, “Program,” he shrugged uncertainly, and went into his monologue which lasted the entire period. No one interrupted him and he asked no questions. I guess I’m just gonna have to get used to the American education system. This was teaching?
In Calculus it seemed that Mrs Evander also hadn’t been informed that Denise and I wouldn’t be naked. We got the third degree with her, too, so I gave her one of my handouts. She read it and shrugged, “Whatever. If this is ok with Dr Fletcher, it’s ok with me. Should I even ask if you need relief?”
“No,” we both said together.
“Ok class, no entertainment for you today. Let’s begin. Who can explain what the dependent variable of a function is and give us an example?”
The rest of the class passed without anything important happening, except that it was a good class. Mrs Evander seems to be a pretty good teacher.
When class ended, we left the room and joined our Guardians. We noticed that we were now attracting far, far less interest among passing students, most of whom simply looked at us curiously. One girl stopped me, looked me up and down, and grinned, “Nice bod. See you on touching day, stud!”
Denise looked at me and smirked. “Yeah, stud. Hey, can I have first dibs on touching?”
“You can touch me whenever you want, Denise.”
She rubbed my chest lightly. “Mmmmm, yeah. Nice muscles.”
“Enough, hun. (I said ‘hun’? Hmmm, yes. We’ve made a real connection). You’re making kind of a problem south of the border.”
“Aw. I was having fun, too.”
“Me too. We need to work on both of our problems.”
We arrived outside the lunchroom and our Guardians peeled away to get their food and go to their own reserved table—next to ours, by the way. When we walked into the room, we noticed a major difference in the room compared to last week. Today there was a real hubbub; lots of noise and it wasn’t conversational noise either. Then I figured it out; it was because everyone was looking around trying to see who was naked and calling out things like, “There’s one,” “Look, over there,” “See, in the line...” and lots of pointing fingers. I could see naked people moving in the lunch line, our people.
My heart gave a lurch. We should be with them. It really made me feel bad in a way I can’t describe. I was almost longing to join them in support, and actually considered it for a brief second. Then someone bumped into me with her hip in trying to reach past me in line, hit my cock, and I recoiled in that fiery pain sensation.
“Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s all right,” I choked out.
Yeah, that’s why I can’t go naked. From that bump to my crotch, I could see that if someone were to grab or press my cock, I could pass out from the sensation. Then I noticed that Denise was staring across the lunchroom with a strange expression.
I leaned over and whispered to her, “Hey, how’re you doin’?”
“Um, it’s peculiar. In a way I’m feeling overdressed. How can that be?”
“Yeah, me too. I think we’re feeling empathy for the others. I guess we must have bonded in some way and we feel a need to support them.”
“I guess...” she said, looking around for the others. Then I saw two naked bodies moving toward our table.
“There are Sarah and Barbara,” Denise said.
“Yeah. Let’s pay for this stuff and join them.”
We walked to our table amid a host of curious stares.
Denise asked the girls, “So where are your partners?”
“The guys took a pit stop. Hey, it was really sick, having to use the guys’ room to pee and being watched like that. I think I’m going to get dehydrated so I don’t have to do that again,” Barbara complained.
“So how was your day so far?” Sarah asked the three of us.
Denise started to answer but was interrupted by Barbara, “Just awful! I’ll tell you... oh, here come the guys.”
The rest of the group joined us. Apparently no one had much of an appetite because everyone’s trays only held light selections.
Jane, the freshman, confirmed it. “I don’t think I can even eat this. I feel sick.”
Sarah said, “They say we get used to it. We’ve only had less than three hours so far.”
“Well, part of those first three hours were awful,” Barbara said. Nelson, her partner, strongly agreed.
“What happened?” Andrew asked.
They told us about their sophomore biology class, and since Barbara and Nelson wrote it up for the website, I’ll read you their account, first from Barbara’s point of view. Since her written description was much more detailed than what she related to us at lunch, I’ll use that.
In our second hour (Barbara wrote), Nelson needed relief and asked me to help him. I didn’t know what to do but he told me he’d tell me, so I took his cock and stroked it. It felt so nice, kind of soft on top but like a rock underneath. This clear juice began dribbling out of the hole and I asked him if he was peeing and he told me it meant he was getting ready to cum. Suddenly, his cock jerked and a big gob of stuff hit my boobs, then another, and then more just came out all over my hand. My pussy was tingling and I suddenly felt all hot and like I had to kiss him, so I did! We got into a big kiss, tongues and all, and then the teacher told us to break it up or she would pour cold water on us. Our next class was Biology.
We went into class and the front was set up like a doctor’s exam room. With a table that even had stirrups. The teacher, Mr Gordon, had me come up, lay down and get into the stirrups, and then told the class that he would show them the female sexual organs using a camera connected to a video screen that was overhead so that everyone could get a close-up look. I was fainting from embarrassment! He moved the camera around while manipulating my pussy lips and uncovered my clit, explaining everything.
Then he said he was going to do an internal exam. I screamed that I was a virgin! He said he would look; when he did, he said it appeared like I had a partial hymen and he could use a pediatric speculum which he said wouldn’t hurt. My doctor had tried using one on me for an exam six months ago and it hurt then, so he had told me he could wait for a more complete exam until I got older, so I told the teacher that. He said I was older now and my doing this was required, it was a mandatory part of being in a Program demonstration and was permitted by the Program rules. He said there were other parts of the exam he was planning to do too; one of them was have the class feel the location of my G-spot using their fingers and he planned to demonstrate my vagina’s internal shape by making a casting of it.
I jumped off the table, saying, “No! I refuse!”
Gordon told me that I would have to do all that; cooperation with teachers was mandatory, and he began citing the Program rules. Then I remembered what Kevin had said about reading the meaning of the rules and ran to my backpack, pulled out my Program booklet, and looked at the “Participation” section.
“Here,” I screamed, “it says here, ‘Participants may not decline unless the Request involves sexual intercourse, the insertion of a foreign object, or would result in physical harm or pose the danger of imminent physical harm to themselves or their classmates.’ That means I can decline. Right, Wendy?”
Wendy was a Guardian who was in my class. She said that I was correct. She also told the class that last term, she heard that those things were routinely done as class demos, but the worst was using this dental casting stuff, squeezing it into the girl’s vagina till no more would go in, waiting a few minutes for it to harden, and then being pulled out. Some of the girls had suffered vaginal irritation as a result and one got an infection from some of that material getting into her uterus. All of them had experienced pain as the casting was withdrawn.
So I told the teacher that inserting fingers would tear my hymen more and cause me pain and harm and I wouldn’t permit it. He told me that he would mark me down for a major Program violation but I didn’t care, I figured it would get overturned.
Barbara’s description of what happened to her in Biology was terribly disturbing. I asked her what “stirrups” were. Oh. In front of a class like that? Degrading and humiliating. Then Nelson spoke.
“Yeah, that was so bad for her! I like Barbara a whole lot and we’re hitting it off, so after she gave me relief I felt so close to her. Then we went to Biology and all that stuff happened. I felt so bad that I couldn’t help her but then she thought of using the Program rules.
“I had a bad time right after her, maybe not as bad, but still humiliating. After Gordon got done with Barbara, he was really mad at her so he came after me. He said he wanted to start collecting statistics on penis size, cum volumes, stuff like that, and he would start with me. I was soft, I had relief last period, and after seeing what just happened to Barbara, I was completely limp. He ordered me to get an erection. I couldn’t. He told Barbara to do it and nothing happened. Then he told her to suck me! Both of us refused and the Guardian backed us.
“So then he went to his desk and took out a case, saying, “Ok, this will do it,” and pulled out a syringe!
“Now I was really alarmed. ‘What the hell is that?’ I asked.
“‘This is alprostadil, or prostaglandin E1. Injected in the penile shaft, it’s guaranteed to produce an erection.’
“‘No way are you sticking a needle in my cock!’
“He went through the business of mandatory compliance again. I pointed out that the prohibition of ‘insertion of a foreign object’ also applied to insertion of a needle into the skin. He tried to get around that by saying that it was just the same as the mandatory birth control shot for girls, but I said that shot was for a health matter, not a class demo. I was supported again by the Guardian.
“So he turned to another topic: doing a prostate exam on me! I was shocked! My dad’s 38 years old and he hasn’t had one. I know because my grandfather was recently joking with him about how uncomfortable they are. I glanced at Gordon’s hands. He’s got these big, fat fingers.
“‘Mr Gordon, there’s no way you’re sticking your finger in there, period. Again, the rules say I can decline ‘foreign objects’ being inserted.
“‘A finger isn’t a foreign object. Foreign objects are artificial materials.’
“‘That’s wrong. The junior Program student, Kevin, told us that the words in the rules mean exactly what they say, so I was curious and looked up some of them, like ‘foreign object.’ It’s a medical term and means an object from outside the body, something that is in the body but doesn’t belong there. There’s no way a finger belongs in my ass.’
“The class really laughed hard then. I kept on going.
“‘I’m also claiming the safety issue. Your fingers are too big; anyway people aren’t given those exams until they’re old, 40 or 50, so demonstrating that on a young teen is totally unreasonable and could be dangerous.’
“The Guardian agreed yet again. She told us that this kind of stuff went on last year and that some Program boys had their butts fingered by a number of kids in the class. No one wanted to do it then, but they were coerced or forced. She also said that in that biology class, the teacher was doing stuff like measuring cum volumes, cock sizes, how many pulses each orgasm had, and even how far boys could shoot sperm!
“I’m gonna tell my folks what happened today so they can complain. There’s no possible education reason for doing this!”
We all had to agree. Well, the undisturbed lunch time was over and the wolves were beginning to circle. We were given a half hour to eat after which we’d have to accept Reasonable Requests. Today it involved posing. Some kids wanted Denise to take her suit off, saying it was Reasonable. They asked me, too. We both politely declined and were threatened with formal complaints. Abover came by and listened to the complaints and then tried to bully us but we ignored him and he went away growling something.
Denise and I told the others how we felt about us wanting to support them but told them that for now, with our conditions, it was like asking a paralyzed man to walk. “The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak,” as the saying goes. Hey—I knew a Russian kid on one of Mom’s embassy postings and he translated it to Russian for me and then back to English. You know how it came out? “The vodka was good, but the meat was rotten.” Funny. Cantonese is kind of like that too. One of my teachers in Hong Kong told me that “Out of sight, out of mind” came out as “Invisible lunatic” in Chinese. Whatever. You can do funny things when translating and the result isn’t like the original—I guess that’s true with most languages... well, anyway, my mind is wandering.
So they told us they were cool and not to sweat it. Still, we couldn’t help but feel bad. Well, show-and-tell time is almost over, so we need to head to gym. Oh joy.
Copyright © 2015 Seems Ndenyal. All Rights Reserved.