PART VIII
The second period bell rang and once again students crowded the halls.
“Hey Cory!” Tara called over. The dumb blonde located the voice and scampered over.
“Hey Tara, what’s up?”
“Oh I just had a question about your birthday party this year…”
“Yeah, pool party at my house, kind of tradition now.”
Unbeknownst to Cory, she was being led toward the central quad, which passes right by the 200-building restroom. Once they were out front, Tara excused herself and went inside.
“I’ll just be one sec, hold up,” she said, stepping inside.
Once in the restroom, she located the stall with the bare, skinny white legs peering under the door. Tara knocked thrice and Laura/Laurraine/Laurenzo? stepped out.
“She’s right outside.”
Cory’s eyes wandered around lazily, waiting for her good friend to come out of the bathroom. Instead, she was bull-rushed and knocked to the ground by a maniac wearing toilet paper for a skirt.
Within seconds a crowd of students gathered to watch the spectacle: two girls in very questionably short skirts wrestling on the ground.
“That’s. My. Skirt,” the girl on top of Cory yelled.
But Cory was dumbfounded, and shocked when she felt a hand in the waistband of her skirt.
“What are you doing?!” Cory said, trying to get free. She noticed Tara had come out of the restroom and just stood there, watching. “Tara! Get her off of me!”
All this maneuvering was not good for Laurel’s (at least that’s what Tara thought she heard the name was) “skirt,” and a precarious rip was working its way up the back. Some of the guys were calling other guys over to get the view they had, each one making the same face when they realized there was nothing underneath.
Laurel wrapped her legs around Cory, getting in position to pull the skirt down, too engaged in her imbroglio to care what she might be exposing.
Cory was a sweet girl, and fighting back was not in her repertoire. She struggled to get away, and was fine to let her skirt go if it meant freedom. Cory was close to escape, but Laurel shot her leg out and blocked Cory’s leg’s from getting off the ground. At the same time she gave another firm pull back on the skirt. Cory couldn’t contest it; she let the skirt quickly peel over her butt and down her legs. And back-and-forth toggling had brought her undies down halfway, exposing her pale-white posterior.
Laurel meanwhile, had inadvertently flashed nearly two dozen guys, many of which had a camera phone ready. And she wasn’t done. Lunging out she was able to catch Cory by the small bridge of fabric between her legs. Cory’s attempts at getting away only pulled the fabric back and to the side, treating everybody in front of her to a very public show.
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