The Volunteer

by D. H Jonathan

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed with me. The guy with him just stood with his mouth hanging open.

  “I’m Michael, and my tongue-tied friend here is Dave.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, and I actually shook his hand.

  We stood looking at each other for just a moment, but I could see, in my peripheral vision, people stopping and snapping pictures with their phones.

  “Well,” Michael said, “I just wanted to tell you that you are awesome.”

  “Thanks. See you around.”

  “Yeah, definitely.”

  I turned and headed toward the side entrance of Holcombe Hall and thought about the laughter I had heard in the dining hall. To hell with those people, I said to myself. To hell with all of them if they can’t handle me in my “pure state” as Michael called it. My path to law school would not be derailed, I decided.

  With my newfound confidence, I climbed the stairs to my room, thinking about my less than stellar response to Dr. Trostle’s question about why I was doing this. When I got to my room, I was going to get on Google and look up something on the benefits of nudism. If I couldn’t reveal the real reason I was doing this, I could at least come up with a consistent story and not keep making things up on the fly (although I had to laugh when I thought about how I had told Diane that I had given up clothes for Lent).

  Feeling more confident than I’d felt since I had admitted cheating to Dr. Finfrock, I burst through the stairwell door on the third floor. Before I had a chance to look for my room key in my binder, I noticed that the door to my room was open.

  “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” someone said when I stepped into the room.

  Diane and James were in the room with four guys I didn’t know!

  Chapter Five: First Afternoon

  “There she is!” Diane exclaimed. “I told you.”

  “Holy shit!” one of the guys said. The others just stared at me with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. I resisted the almost overwhelming urge to cover my breasts and pubic mound with my hands, and I was glad I had let Ginger take all of my clothes. I probably would have put them on right then. Rather than stand there and make a spectacle of myself, I walked into the room toward my desk. One of the guys was sitting in my chair. He gazed at me, and I felt that strange tingling in my gut again. Did I actually like being looked at naked?

  “I need to get on my computer,” I said.

  The guy turned and looked at my monitor then back at me. “Uh, sure.” He stood up and stepped over to Diane’s side of the room.

  I didn’t use one of Dr. Slater’s black butt towels since this was my seat, and no one else should be sitting in it. I plopped down and unlocked my workstation as I slipped my sandals off.

  “So, are you going to tell us why you’re nature girl all of a sudden, and why your closet is empty?” Diane asked.

  “Why were you looking in my closet?” I said as I pulled up Google in my web browser.

  “Oh come on Dani! What is going on?”

  I turned around and looked at her. “Why do you have all these guys in our room? You know you’re only allowed to escort one guy at a time in the dorm.”

  “We just wanted to have a look for ourselves,” one of the guys said. “It’s kind of unbelievable, a naked girl running around campus.”

  “Well, I haven’t been running anywhere,” I said.

  “How long are you going to stay like this?” another guy asked.

  “The rest of the semester, at least,” I said, and I immediately wondered why I added the “at least” at the end. I would never consider extending this past the end date. In fact, I already couldn’t wait for it to be over so that I could feel clothes on my body again.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, I typed “benefits of nudism” into Google and tried to ignore the guys’ gazes on my naked body. A long list of articles filled the screen, and I clicked on one about women in nudism and started reading.

  “Well, if she’s not going to talk to us, let’s go get some lunch,” Diane said.

  I only vaguely heard them all leave the room as I read article after article having to do with health benefits of nudism, how pools stay cleaner when people don’t wear bathing suits, and the compatibilities between Christianity and nudism (which had some good references I could use with Stacy, my overly religious Resident Assistant). The only issue I had with all of these articles was that they dealt with groups of nudists. I started to search for instances and information on lone nudists among clothed people, but all I found were fantasies and fiction. One interesting thing I found was a whole series of stories about a girl named Tami who, when trying to avoid expulsion for streaking on her college campus, claimed that nudism had become her religion. In the stories, she was then forced to continue the charade of going nude everywhere when the college dean took her at her word. I had read enough to get the gist of the series when I noticed the time. I would have to hurry to make it to Dr. Finfrock’s class without being late.

  I locked my workstation, grabbed my binder, and got up. It was only then that I noticed that Diane had left the door to our room open. She had done it on purpose, I knew. Was she getting some kind of perverse pleasure out of showing me off? A girl and a guy were standing in the hall wide-eyed as I stood up. I looked at them, and they jumped as if startled and wandered off. Shaking my head, I made sure my room key was in its spot in the binder, and headed out, closing and locking the door behind me.

  I took my first step down in the stair well when I realized that I had left my sandals in the room. Since the day wasn’t that hot outside and since I was in such a hurry to get to class on time, I decided to just go barefooted. The straps of those sandals had been rubbing a raw spot on the tops of both of my feet anyway. The plopping sounds of my feet hitting each step echoed throughout the stairwell as I descended. Once I reached the ground floor, I pushed through the exit door, only realizing that I hadn't paused until I was out in the sunshine. Maybe I was getting more used to this.

  The afternoon was warmer than the morning had been, but the concrete wasn’t too hot for my feet. I walked as normally as I could, trying to step lightly so my feet wouldn’t make those plopping sounds. The sun felt hot on my shoulders, and I wished that I had put on another coat of sunscreen before leaving my room. Rounding the dorm, I merged into the main walkway and, for the fourth time that day, started walking naked across campus. I had just entered the commons when a girl and a guy jogged up beside me.

  “Hey,” the girl said. “I’m Clarissa, from The Coachella Clarion, our school newspaper, and I’d like to do an interview with you.”

  “I can’t right now,” I said without slowing down. “I’m late for class.”

  “Oh, it can be later,” Clarissa explained. “What time are you free?”

  “Um, I get out of class at four.”

  “OK, how about five o’clock?”

  “That’s fine, I guess,” I said, wondering if I should clear the interview with Dr. Slater.

  “Awesome! Where would you like to meet?”

  I knew I didn’t want to do the interview in my room, but I couldn’t think of any other place where we could have some privacy. “How about the lobby of the dorm,” I finally said, even though I had yet to appear there in my new “naked girl” persona.

  “Sounds good to me. It’s Holcombe Hall, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. Blake here will take some photos of us talking.”

  “Hi,” Blake said, waving to me.

  “Maybe you could pose for some too,” Clarissa continued. “Something we could actually put in the paper, you know. With nothing showing.”

  “OK,” I said, thinking how ironic it was that everyone on campus was seeing my nipples and vulva on a regular basis, but they still wouldn’t publish photos of such in the newspaper.

  “And what is your name again?” Clarissa asked.

  “Danielle. Danielle Keaton.”

  She typed my name into he
r smartphone.

  “You wanted to interview me before you even knew my name?” I said.

  “Well, yes. Word of your…, well, being naked, has gotten around, and I wanted to be the first one to get the story on it.”

  “OK,” I said, glad that I had just spent the last hour doing research for the kind of questions that I thought she might ask, especially since I had been forbidden from telling the truth.

  We had almost arrived at Preston Hall. I looked at my phone and saw that I had three minutes before class started. I would need all of those since I had to pee.

  “Great. We’ll see you at five o’clock,” Clarissa said.

  “See you then,” I said without stopping.

  I bounded up the four steps and entered through the front door. Several people walking by stopped and stared at me as I walked in and turned toward the ladies room. Once inside, the dirty floor made me wish I had worn those sandals after all. I ignored the dirt, did my business, washed my hands, and rushed to class.

  Dr. Finfrock was checking the roll when I entered. He was the only professor I’d ever had at Coachella who took attendance before each and every class.

  “Kim Halsey,” he called as I slipped in and carefully closed the door behind me. When I turned to take my seat, he was staring at me with his mouth hanging open. His face softened with something like recognition, and he nodded at me as I took my seat.

  “Kim Halsey,” he repeated.

  “I said here,” Kim said.

  “Right. Sorry.”

  I pulled one of my black butt towels out of my binder, spread it on the chair of what had become my regular desk, and sat down. As Dr. Finfrock continued with the roll, everyone in class had turned to look at me.

  “Danielle Keaton.”

  “Here,” I called.

  Dr. Finfrock paused only for a moment before continuing. I looked down at my Kindle as the stares of my fellow students started to get to me. They finally all turned around once Dr. Finfrock started his lecture. I took notes on the pad of paper in my binder, but I kept getting distracted whenever I’d notice one of the guys in class looking at me. It still felt strange sitting in a classroom naked, listening to a lecture, like I had been doing in clothes all semester. What made this class even stranger than my literature class that morning was that I was also barefoot. The floor felt cold and hard on the bottoms of my feet. I shivered as I noticed Dr. Finfrock looking at my breasts as he talked. That tingling sensation in my gut just wouldn’t go away. This was only the first day, I told myself. I would get used to this. I had to get used to it.

  My mind wandered away from Dr. Finfrock’s lecture, and as I contemplated my situation and my walk to my current history class, I realized that, unlike my trip to British lit that morning, I had not once looked behind me to see if one of Dr. Slater’s research assistants was following me. When starting out this morning, I had talked into the microphone to make sure the RA knew where I was, but such a thing hadn’t even occurred to me this afternoon. I could only figure that I had forgotten because I had left in such a hurry after staying at my computer longer than I had intended. It couldn’t have been because I was growing more comfortable with the idea of going out naked and alone, I thought. This was still only the first day, and I couldn’t imagine going out naked would ever get that easy even at the end of these two months.

  In the middle of Dr. Finfrock’s lecture, during one of his pauses for effect, my stomach growled rather loudly, and I wished I had gone ahead and eaten lunch. Of course, all eyes turned to me again, and I wished I could sink into the floor. I had never been so embarrassed in my life. If I had had clothes on, I could have handled it better, but once everyone turned to look, many of them kept gazing at my naked body. Dr. Finfrock himself had a smirk on his face. I slid my butt forward in my chair, lowering myself, and lifted my binder, holding it upright and hiding myself from most of my classmates. Thankfully, Dr. Finfrock continued as if nothing had happened. After a few minutes, I had to lay my binder back on my desk to take a few notes, but by then, everyone else had gotten back to their own note taking.

  Dr. Finfrock ended his lecture by announcing a quiz during the next class on Wednesday. As soon as he dismissed the class, five of my fellow students surrounded my desk.

  “What the hell, Dani?” a guy named Martin said.

  “Did you not have anything clean to wear?” another girl asked. I couldn’t even remember her name even though we had spoken at almost every class meeting before this one.

  “It’s a long story,” I said, “and I have another class to get to.”

  “I’d heard that there was a naked girl running around and going to classes,” Martin said, “but I had no idea that it was someone I know. Why are you doing it?”

  “Like I said, it’s a long story.”

  I put my Kindle in the binder, zipped it up, and stood, discreetly grabbing my butt towel and stuffing it in the binder pocket.

  “This is just crazy,” another guy said, shaking his head as he gazed at my nude body. The way he looked at me, not leering but with mere admiration, caused the butterflies in my belly to start stirring again.

  “Whatever the reason, you are awfully brave,” Martin said as he turned and left the room.

  The rest of the group followed, and I was right behind them when I heard, “Miss Keaton.”

  I stopped and turned toward Dr. Finfrock. “Yes?”

  I clutched my binder to my chest, hiding my breasts from him. As vulnerable as I felt being naked out on campus among the students, standing naked in front of my instructor, especially this one, made me feel more vulnerable than ever, like a child even.

  “When I got an email from the president of the university saying that I would have a student attending class in the nude and that I should accept it and continue on with class as usual, I didn’t believe it. And now that I see you here in this state, I feel somehow responsible. Something tells me that this has to do with that plagiarized paper.”

  I shrugged, not knowing what I could or couldn’t say.

  “You know, I only referred that to the dean because it was my obligation to do so. I had hoped that you would be granted leniency, but that decision wasn’t up to me. The rules stated what I was supposed to do, and I did it. But this goes beyond anything I’ve ever heard of.”

  “It’s all right,” I said.

  “Are you telling me that your current state of dress, or undress, has nothing whatsoever to do with that paper?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not saying that.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help? I can’t really withdraw my report, but I can go talk to the dean. To the president even.”

  “No. This is something I signed up for, voluntarily.”

  “And what is it that you did sign up for?” Dr. Finfrock asked.

  “I can’t really say right now. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s OK," Dr. Finfrock said after a short silent pause. "Is there anything I can to do help?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m good.”

  “All right. If you’d like, you could re-write that paper, your own work, and I could give you partial credit. A C on it would be better than a zero when I average your semester grade.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

  “It’s all right. I know there were extenuating circumstances, and now that I see what you’re having to do, I think a little understanding is in order.”

  “Thank you. That’s… That’s wonderful.” I wanted to hug him, but I refrained. A C on that paper might even help me get at least a B for the course. And with the extra hours for doing this nudity experiment, my grade point average would be just fine.

  “Can you get it to me by next Monday?”

  I couldn’t think of anything else I was doing over the weekend, especially since I knew that I wasn’t able to leave campus.

  “Sure.”

  “All right. If you ever need anything, please let me know. And don’t forget about th
at quiz on Wednesday.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Finfrock.”

  He nodded to me, and I took off for my next class, Spanish III, which was two buildings over.

  “You go, girl,” someone said to me as soon as I walked out of Preston Hall, smiling as she said it.

  “Awesome!” another guy said.

  “Holy shit, there she is,” I heard someone else say.

  Being naked makes even a normally mundane walk between buildings an event, I thought with amusement. I felt like a rock star, although I was still uncomfortable with all the attention. I got to my Spanish class just in time. I saw one of my classmates just ahead of me, and I heard Ms. Castillo say “Buenos tardes,” to him.

  “Buenos—“ Ms. Castillo began to me as I walked in the room. All eyes turned to me when the students heard our instructor stop suddenly short of finishing her normal greeting. I was holding my binder at my hip, but I swung it around and held it in front of my pelvis as everyone looked at me. I felt my nipples tighten as those now familiar feelings of shame and vulnerability washed over me again.

  “Hola,” I said, trying to lighten the tension.

  “Hola!” everyone answered back, as if I were teaching the class.

  I smiled and probably blushed a deep shade of crimson as I shrugged and headed toward my seat. I slapped my butt towel down as quickly as possible before sitting. Other than my nudity, the class proceeded normally, with Ms. Castillo going over our vocabulary words and the conjugation of past tense verbs. At the end of class, she passed out our homework, to be turned in on Friday. I was relieved that it was only a two page worksheet. It would probably only take me an hour to do.

  As usual, I was the first person out of the room when Ms. Castillo dismissed us. On Mondays and Fridays, I had a swimming class, which fulfilled part of the four semester recreation and fitness university requirement, in the Phys Ed Building over a quarter of a mile away. I had less than ten minutes to get to the building, changed, and into the pool. Of course, changing wouldn’t take me very long now, I thought and almost laughed when I thought that I had finally found a real advantage to going everywhere naked. I heard several compliments and comments as I hurried to my swimming class. I walked fast, ignoring my bouncing breasts, although I saw several guys staring as I passed by. The embarrassment and the fear were starting to go away as I slowly realized that this was my new normal, what I had to do, as taboo as it had always seemed, and that I wasn’t going to get arrested or otherwise in trouble.