The Volunteer

by D. H Jonathan

  I shrugged, feeling awkward, like a fifth wheel. Diane’s mother knocked Steven in the shoulder, prompting him to look away from me. Whenever Diane’s father got a glimpse, he snapped his head toward his wife, trying not to look at me. It was kind of funny, and I wanted to tell them that it was OK to look, that I was used to it now.

  “I think I’m all done,” Diane announced. She tried to close her large suitcase, but her father gently pushed her aside and did it for her.

  “I’ll just take this down to the car. Nice to meet you Danielle,” he mumbled without looking at me. “Come on Steven.”

  Diane stood still for a moment after her father and brother left, looking at me. “Well, it was an interesting semester,” she said, “especially after spring break.”

  Her mom and I both laughed.

  “Yeah, I guess it was.” Although Diane and I had never gotten along much during the year, I didn’t have any ill feelings toward her. She was nice, and I had learned that the party girl image that she tried to convey was just a façade, that she was really quiet and reserved and even conservative. “Have a good summer.”

  “You too,” she said, picking up a box of things from her bed and following her mom out.

  I sighed with relief, both that she had not wanted to hug and that I had the room all to myself for the next two nights. The last exam period was on Saturday, for those few Saturday sections on the class schedule. The period ended at 11:50, and at that time the spring semester would officially be over. My flight home wasn’t until Sunday morning. I dialed Greg’s cell phone and was disappointed when it rolled to his voice mail.

  “Hey,” I said, “I just took my last test, so I am DONE. And my roommate just left to go home, so I’m all alone. I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight. So call me later.”

  With nothing to do, I turned on the TV and browsed the list of things I had recorded on my DVR. I settled on Laura which I had recorded off of Turner Classic Movies the month before. Since Greg and I had started going to that film series, I had been recording and watching a lot of classic movies. I used all my pillows and made a comfortable seat for myself on the bed, briefly wondering what people would think if they knew that the world famous Naked Dani was all alone in her dorm room watching an old black and white movie, stuck on campus with no car and no clothes and it too hot to do anything outside. My life just didn’t seem very glamourous.

  Greg called about halfway through the movie. I hurriedly paused it and grabbed the vibrating phone.

  “Hey there,” I said.

  “Hi Dani.” He sounded down, without the usual spark in his voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve so much to do today and tonight. I don’t know if I can get away.”

  “Well, that’s OK,” I lied, feeling the sting of disappointment. I finally get the room to myself, and he can’t make time for me?

  “I have to have everything done tonight, so I’ll be free tomorrow,” Greg said. “OK?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Good luck with all your stuff.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re disappointed. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I’m just tired. Finals week is always tiring.”

  We chatted just a bit more before Greg had to get back to whatever he was working on. I resumed the movie and spent a quiet evening in the dorm, going downstairs only to eat dinner. The dorm was emptying out, with everyone heading home for the summer. I stayed up late watching TV, too excited about the end of the nudity project the next day to be able to sleep well.

  I walked into the sociology department office at 11:30 AM on Saturday, the last day of the semester. Since it was a weekend, the receptionist’s desk was empty, but I could see that the door to Dr. Slater’s office was open. I padded through the front office, my sandals silent on the carpet, and then I wondered why I was bothering to sneak. She probably knew I was here; she’d been tracking my movements, listening to the audio from the microphone around my neck, for two months. She appeared in the doorway to her office before I could make it there.

  “Dani!” she squealed with the sound of delight in her voice.

  She stepped forward and pulled me into a big hug just as I was saying “Hi.”

  “We made it,” she said, releasing me from her hug.

  I felt like correcting her, saying that I had made it, not we. But I didn’t.

  “Come on in,” she said, retreating back into her office and waving me in.

  I followed her inside. Her office looked exactly as it had when I had last visited two months before except that my big suitcase was sitting upright on the floor next to the door. On her desk, neatly folded, were a bra and panties and the flats I had worn and taken off the last time I was here.

  “Go ahead and shut the door,” Dr. Slater said. When I did, I saw my yellow dress on a hanger on the back of the door, the last outfit I had worn, two months ago. I must have gasped when I saw it because Dr. Slater laughed. “Come on and sit down. We’ll get to that in a little bit.”

  I pulled one of my black butt towels out of my hand purse, plopped it onto the chair across from Dr. Slater’s desk, and sat down. Dr. Slater sat in her chair and leaned forward toward me, her hands on her desk.

  “So tell me Dani, how do you feel?”

  “I feel fine,” I replied.

  “I mean, how do you feel about putting on clothes after the last two months?”

  Dr. Slater’s expression was one of determined curiosity, with an intensity that I had never seen. After the last two months of forced nudity, all the embarrassment and humiliation I had felt over having my friends and family see me naked either in person or on their televisions, I should hate this woman, especially since she seemed to be savoring these last moments of my nakedness. But all I felt was relief that the project had ended, that I had made it through something that two months before I could never have even imagined. And even with all of the shame, there was a part of me that had enjoyed it, being seen and admired by so many strangers.

  “I’m ready,” I said, my voice sounding shaky. “I mean, it’s been such a strange experience.”

  “I know, it has been. And I know we put you through a lot, with the television appearances and everything. That was part of the goal of this. Yes, I wanted to study people’s reactions to you here on campus, but I also wanted to change, at least just a little bit, the public’s perception of the nude body. That uncensored Stossel episode proves that we did change that perception and for the better. It was something I had only imagined happening, but seeing your full body on that TV, on a Fox network no less, was such a triumph. It was amazing. And you were amazing. So, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  She looked like she was about to cry as she talked, and I was convinced that her emotions were genuine.

  “Why was this so important to you?” I ventured.

  A tear did fall then, and she grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed it at her eyes to catch any remaining tears.

  “Andrew,” she said.

  “Martinez?” I asked when she seemed unable to say anything else.

  Dr. Slater nodded, and her silence told me everything I needed to know. She had been in love with him, whether he ever knew it or not. She took a deep breath, and thumbed through some papers on her desk, pulling out two sheets and passing them to me.

  “As we agreed, you will be credited with six semester hours of Sociology 4999, Special Topics, with a grade of A. Your disciplinary record has been expunged. The suspension has been rescinded, your scholarships restored, and the file on you, containing that plagiarized paper, shredded.” She looked at the digital display on her desk phone. “And at 11:38 AM, I am proclaiming the project done. You are free to get dressed and – well, to wear whatever you want.”

  I took a quick glance at the papers she had handed me. One was just a form stating that I had completed the requirements for the six sociology hours, and the other was a
personal letter from Dr. Slater and the sociology department thanking me for volunteering to be the test subject of her study. I set the papers on her desk, stood up, and grabbed my underwear. Stepping out of my sandals, I slid the panties up over my waist, the sensation of the fabric so tight against my skin feeling both strange and familiar at the same time. I slid my arms under the bra straps, pulling the cups over my breasts, covering them, and reached behind me to fasten the clasps behind my back. My arms almost couldn’t turn backwards enough to allow me to pull the ends of the bra together; it had been so long since I had put on a bra I had trouble remembering the motions.

  Dr. Slater had turned her chair sideways, and she gazed intently out the window overlooking the Commons. Once my bra was secure, I stepped over to the door and slid my yellow dress off the hanger. I put it on over my head, arms extended, letting it fall over me. It felt heavy, like it was weighted down, as I pulled up the zipper on the side. For the first time in two months, I was clothed! I picked my flats up off of Dr. Slater’s desk and, after swiping the black butt towel off the chair and onto the floor, sat down to put them on. Dr. Slater turned her chair back toward me and looked at me in my dress, a wry smile on her face.

  “Oh,” I said, suddenly remembering and reaching over my shoulders to unclasp the necklace microphone, “here you go.”

  I held it out to her, and she took it. “Thank you.”

  Dr. Slater dropped the necklace into a desk drawer.

  “The charger’s still in my room,” I said. “I can bring it by—“

  “Don’t worry about it,” Dr. Slater said, waving her hand as if to push my words away. “You can give it to Greg. He’s standing by to help get your suitcase back to your room.”

  I tried not to smile and failed. “Okay.”

  Dr. Slater stood up and walked around me to open her office door. “Greg,” she called before turning around and standing beside her desk.

  I stood up as Greg strolled into the room, looking bleary eyed. I wanted to be mad at him for not being available last night, but I was also happy that he was finally going to see me with clothes on. His eyes seemed to light up when he saw me standing there in my yellow dress.

  “Hi,” he said, smiling.

  “Hey,” I answered, acting shy by looking down at myself in the dress.

  “I guess this is it,” Dr. Slater said. “Dani, have a wonderful summer and I hope to see you again soon.”

  I nodded, not knowing what to say. There was no way I could thank her for anything since the whole project had been more or less forced on me. But I did have my scholarships intact, and I could continue on with my college plans. Greg grabbed the handle of my suitcase and tilted it forward so that it would roll on its wheels. I gathered the sandals and my purse, putting the little black towel inside it, and together, Greg and I walked out of Dr. Slater’s office.

  We took the elevator down to the first floor and walked across the Commons under the oppressively hot sun. Greg kept looking over at me and shaking his head.

  “What!?” I finally asked.

  “I’m not used to seeing you like this,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What, like a normal person?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  There were still a few people on campus, walking this way and that, even though the semester had just ended. None of them looked at or appeared to take any special notice of me. I had rejoined the masses. It’s funny how we take for granted such simple things. Now that I finally had clothes back on, I couldn’t help but be acutely aware of every little touch of fabric as we walked back to my dorm, how my thighs brushed against the folds of the dress with each step or how my bra constricted my chest, squeezing the flesh of my sides up toward my armpits, compressing my breasts into pancake shapes and pushing my cleavage up.

  “Did you get everything done last night?” I asked Greg.

  “Yeah,” he said, with a heavy sigh.

  We took the elevator up to the third floor, and Greg wheeled the suitcase into my room, setting it on the floor at the foot of my bed.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “No problem. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  We stepped into each other, embracing, kissing with a passion. His hands wandered more freely now that he was touching the fabric of my dress rather than bare skin, reaching down and cupping my buttocks, pulling me up to him. I pulled his shirt tail out of the waistband of his shorts, put my hands on the skin of his lower back, and moved upwards, pushing his shirt up further. He pulled back from me, breaking our kiss, long enough to pull the shirt over his head and off. I stepped into him again after he had flung the shirt away, kissing his chest, his nipples.

  I hadn’t had my clothes on for fifteen minutes, and I already wanted to take them off. But, just once, I wanted to be clothed while Greg was naked, so I unsnapped his shorts and pushed the zipper down. Greg helped by lowering the shorts along with whatever else he was wearing underneath. His erection sprang forward, and I grabbed it with my hand, relishing the gasp he made at my touch. I looked down at him as he stepped out of his shoes and shorts.

  “Well, this is a change,” he said, smiling.

  “It is. I kind of like it.”

  “I’ll bet you do.”

  I pushed him onto my bed and kicked off the shoes I was wearing. Greg’s penis was above his belly, hard and pointed straight up toward his head, almost defying gravity. We kissed again, and I felt him push the zipper of my dress down. I was ready to get out of it by then, and I was especially ready to get rid of the bra I was wearing.

  We spent what seemed like a long time enjoying each other’s touch, putting our mouths on each other. Greg went down between my legs and licked and sucked and used his fingers like an artist, giving me an explosive orgasm that made my past self-induced orgasms seem like minor tremors. I returned the favor, intending to get Greg off with just my hands and mouth, but when he didn’t come right away like my two past boyfriends, we went a little farther. He had a condom with him. When he reached down onto the floor, pulled it out of his shorts pocket, and showed it to me, I nodded. He rolled it on as I lay on my back, and he entered me slowly from above. I was very wet from everything else we had done, but I still felt a quick stab of pain that turned to pleasure. Even though the rest of it was very enjoyable, I wasn’t able to orgasm from the penetration. I certainly never felt anything close to what Greg had given me before, and Greg came quickly into the condom.

  “Oh wow!” he said, pulling out and rolling onto his back next to me.

  He yanked the condom off, noticed the little bit of blood on it, and tossed it into the trash can under my computer desk.

  “Did you come?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah,” I lied. “It was amazing.” But I couldn’t help but feel disappointed, like maybe I wasn’t good at sex or something.

  We lay together catching our breath until I couldn’t stand it anymore; I had to pee so badly. I jumped up out of bed and hurried out into the hall and to the bathroom. It was only after I had gotten back to the room that I realized I had gone naked.

  “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” Greg said, laughing. He already had his shorts back on and was turning his shirt right side out.

  “Shut up. It’s a habit now.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said. “You hungry?”

  “Starving,” I said.

  I looked in my suitcase for a t-shirt and pair of shorts, and when I got dressed, I went braless. Getting used to wearing a bra again was going to take some time. We ate downstairs in the dining hall. Greg, not having a meal card, paid cash for his lunch. It was so late in the lunch hour and in the semester that we had the place to ourselves. We didn’t talk much, and I began to wonder if that was how sex was, a replacement for regular conversation.

  Greg did try spending the night in my bed with me, but neither of us could sleep well on such a tiny single bed. He finally moved over to Diane’s bed at some point in the middle of the night. When we got u
p, we had another round of sex. Knowing a little more what to expect, I was able to relax and had a couple of fantastic orgasms when Greg was going down on me. He went more slowly during intercourse, and I finally hit that plateau, although it only came when I was thinking of myself naked on that stage in front of 90,000 people, all of them staring at my naked breasts and vulva blown up on the giant video board above me.

  My clothes were already packed, so all I had to do was put my other things in the big suitcase. Since I was coming back to take summer classes, I had planned on boxing up my computer and paying to have it stored in the Student Union building, but Greg offered to keep it at his house during the two and a half weeks I would be home in Texas. I wished I could have kept the room, but only one dorm was open for the summer sessions, and Holcombe Hall wasn’t it.

  “You should get a laptop,” Greg said as we were carrying the computer down to his car. He was carrying the tower, and I had the monitor.

  “My birthday is coming up, so maybe I can talk Daddy into getting me one,” I said.

  We had already loaded my suitcase and carry-on bag into Greg’s car. Greg sat by the curb with the motor running while I ran back in to turn in my key and meal card. He then drove me to the Palm Springs Airport. I checked my bag at the curbside check in, got my boarding pass, and had Greg walk me to the security checkpoint.

  “I’m going to miss you,” he said.

  “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “It won’t quite be the same,” he countered with a fake frown.

  I punched him in the shoulder playfully with my open palm. “You,” I said, and he kissed me, long and lingering.

  “I’d better get,” he said. “We don’t want your computer sitting in a hot car for too long.”

  “Bye,” I said.

  I watched him walk out the doors before I got into the line for security. I looked around at all the people waiting, but no one seemed to take any note of me. After two months of almost constant attention everywhere I went, it almost felt like something was wrong. I began to daydream about taking off my clothes and standing naked in line and then watching the heads turn. Going through security would sure be a lot easier if I just put everything in the x-ray tray and walked through naked, I thought with a laugh. When I got up to the checkpoint, I took off my shoes and emptied my pockets and walked through the scanning machine barefooted, feeling first the carpet and then the cool metal on the soles of my feet. My senses were so much more alive when my skin was uncovered. The sun and wind had made me feel more alive. I shook my head as I waited for the tray with my things to roll out of the machine, telling myself that I had to quit thinking about being naked, that that part of my life was now in the past. I had to look toward the future, and the next thing up in my future was going home and facing my parents and friends.