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 ï>¿Dare Me by neverdoubted

   Dare Me - Chapter 15 - Doctor's Orders (Part 1)

   Did I ever tell you about the time I dared my sister to attend her
junior high cheerleading camp in the nude?  If you've been paying
attention, you can guess by now that she absolutely accepted my dare.  I
wasn't there to witness it, of course, but I know the story and I still
can't believe she actually went through with it.  She went to a whole
'nother town, miles away from everything she knows and owns, and survived
an entire weekend without a stitch of clothing!  I can't imagine how much
courage it must have taken to do something like that!

   But, as usual, I'm getting ahead of myself.  The story actually begins
with a major discovery.  You see, it was around that time that I learned
about Lucy's illness.  Don't worry, she didn't have leukemia or anything
like that.  She wasn't going to drop dead or waste away.

   It would be a ghoulish exaggeration even call her gravely ill. 
Although, if my suspicions about our dad are correct from the handful of
stories I've been able to piece together involving his risky antics of a
notably sexual nature, it wouldn't be a stretch to say Lucy inherited the
same disease that ultimately killed her father.  That's only if you believe
her unconventional diagnosis.

   There I go getting ahead, again!  Why don't I just start from the
beginning and tell you how I came to be aware of her illness?  A quick
detour, then I promise I'll get back to the junior cheerleaders romping
naked around Westfield (yes, there ended up being more than one over the
course of that weekend).

   Our summer -(TM)s end was rapidly approaching.  In many ways, it was the
last one of my childhood.  Not quite old enough to get a real job, I had
spent it overindulging in the recklessness of youth.  Sure, our lack of
money was a drag and seriously limited our entertainment choices.  But we
had made up for it by finding cheap ways to make our own fun.  We were dirt
poor and nearly starved, but obstinately happy.  Taken as a whole, I always
look back on that summer fondly.

   Usually, when informational letters from school start arriving in your
mailbox in August, it is not a time for celebration.  But when Lucy's cheer
team tryout invitation arrived that last Saturday, she jumped for joy and
immediately ran to the phone to call her friends.

   With precious few spots to fill every year, making the junior high cheer
team was no guarantee.  Earning one of those coveted spots was a real
accomplishment, especially for a seventh grader, and put you on a track for
the high school popularity short list.

   The way our school did it, being on the cheer team filled your schedule
for the entire school year.  Sure, you were required to attend the
traditional football games and pep rallies that every school has.  But it
was our school's opinion that no event, from a Veterans Day parade down
Main Street to a district-wide chess tournament to drug-awareness week
assemblies, that wouldn't benefit from the addition of a few perky little
cheerleaders in attendance.

   The district even liked to loan them out for other city events.  I swear
I once drove past a group of bored cheerleaders standing beside the mayor
while he stood in front of news cameras and cut the ribbon of a brand-new
drive-through ATM!  Maybe cheerleaders' reputation of not being very smart
was not their fault.  They were kept so busy spreading cheer that they
never had time for their studies.

   The notice letter also included a very important, full-page reminder
about the physicals.  In case you didn -(TM)t know, it is a strict
requirement for any student wishing to be on a school athletics team to
undergo a complete medical checkup.  Students must submit verification of
physical health from the county health clinic along with a signed release
form from their parent or guardian before they can be allowed to even
tryout.

   The physical was a hot topic of conversation among Lucy's friend group
the day those notices arrived.  Every time I passed by the phone, it
sounded like she was gossiping about it with someone.  Her friend, Grace,
whom I remember fondly from...it's a long story, was planning to try out
for the cheer team along with Lucy.  Another friend, Alexandra, wasn't even
trying out.  But she loved to talk and seemed to have lots to say about any
topic the girls discussed.

   The more Lucy and her friends agonized over it, the more hysteria they
whipped up between them.  To hear them talk, they were being asked to
submit to an extremely invasive medical procedure by a veritable throng of
doctors.  I can understand her nerves about this mysterious new experience.
Having a doctor evaluate your physical fitness with your school athletic
career hanging in the balance does kind of sound a little foreboding.

   That evening, around the dinner table, Lucy couldn't stop talking about
her upcoming tryouts.  Ever since receiving her welcome packet back in
July, it felt like she had been practicing non-stop and had committed every
cheer-the words and the motions-to heart.  She had practically worn out the
training video watching it so many times.  With the tryouts mere days away,
she was as ready as any prospective cheerleader could be, assuming she
could pass the physical.

   "Alexandra says someone tried to cheat the drug test last year," she
exclaimed through a mouthful of food, "so they made a new policy.  Now you
have to change into one of those hospital gowns for the entire exam and you
can't wear anything underneath.  Not even underwear!"

   I caught a brief gleam in my sister -(TM)s eye when she said that.  It
had been nearly a month since her last dare and had to assume her itch
would return right on schedule.  It tended to manifest whenever she got
excited about something.  I admit my wheels started turning as well.  It
wouldn't be hard to find ways to embarrass her at the clinic if all she was
wearing was one of those skimpy hospital gowns.  But she hadn't even asked
for a dare yet and I didn't want her to know I was already thinking about
it.  So, I kept a mostly blank expression while she talked and expressed
mild interest in the topic being discussed.

   After dinner, Lucy approached me about driving her to get her physical.
Tryouts were only three days away and mom had double-shifts all week and
wouldn't be available during clinic hours.  Since I had a car and no job, I
had no excuse not to help out.  I didn't have my full license yet, but as a
condition of my hardship, I was allowed to take family members places, like
doctor's appointments and any activity related to school or work.  My
little sister's school physical certainly qualified.

   When I promised to take her first thing Monday morning, her excitement
bubbled over and she did her patented Lucy happy dance, jumping in place
with her feet tapping back and forth.  She made an adorable sight, as
usual, with her blonde hair dancing around her face and her strong leg
muscles lifting her into the air over and over.  But it made me wish she
wasn't wearing so many clothes while she did it.  The best version of Lucy
-(TM)s happy dance was the one she performed naked.

   She paused as a thought came to her.   -œHey Mikey, can you tell me what
it's really like?"

   I was amused that she had finally thought to probe me for details.  I
had already gone through it all last year so I could try out for the
basketball team.  In my experience, it wasn't that big a deal, for a boy,
at least.

   Even with my limited understanding of doctor's offices, my exam had felt
pretty routine.  A nurse had taken my height, weight, blood pressure and
temperature.  Then I had to show a doctor I could touch my toes, got my
reflexes tested with one of those tiny hammers, and had to prove I could
jog some laps without fainting.  The most embarrassing thing was probably
the hernia check when I had to briefly drop my drawers, turn my head to one
side and cough while the doctor pressed his hand very close to my privates.

   She hung on to my every word, nodding along and forcing herself not to
interrupt despite her nervous excitement.  I could see the wheels turning
inside while she listened.  I even detected a slight blush on her cheeks
when I got to the hernia part.  Once I had described everything to her, she
only had one follow-up topic.  "So...do you really think they'll make me
change into one of those hospital gowns?  Can you imagine?!"

   From the far-off gleam in her eye and her growing blush, I knew exactly
where her mind had gone.  She was imagining herself standing in front of a
handsome, young doctor wearing nothing but a skimpy cloth gown.

   I shrugged my shoulders aloofly, a gesture she did not appreciate, and
walked away.  She huffed in frustration and called my name as I reached the
door.  I stopped walking and looked back.

   Her body language said it all.  Her brow was furrowed, and her jittery
hands were rubbing up and down each arm.  She kept shifting her weight like
her shoes had suddenly grown uncomfortable.  She looked like an addict
hankering for another fix and was very conflicted about something.  Since
she had called to me, I waited to hear her out.  But after several seconds
when she didn't say anything, I finally shot her an impatient "WHAT,
Goosey?".

   She jumped when I spoke and forced her eyes to focus.  She was so
absorbed by her own internal conflict; she had almost forgotten I was
there. By putting myself in her shoes, I ascertained what might be
bothering her.

   Seventh grade is a milestone year for many reasons.  Perhaps she had
hoped to turn over a new leaf along with the new school.  Only a few
students knew her, and only as that cute little girl from elementary
school. She had an opportunity to remake herself as she entered her teenage
years and leave behind the naked escapades of her youth.

   But the excitement she was feeling about her tryouts and for the
physical must have triggered something inside her before she was ready to
deal with it.  Her urge had snuck up on her and this one was particularly
onerous because of the potential impact it could have on her long-term
reputation.  To give in now and request another dare likely meant
sentencing herself to at least three more years of risky behavior
throughout her junior high career.

   She had to know that any dare I gave her at this stage would result in
being seen naked by someone.  No more sneaking around an abandoned
playground in the dark of night.  How many of her peers and classmates
would get to see her naked and embarrassed all because she couldn't stop
herself from saying those two words?  And how many times could she get
caught in a different compromising situation before it could no longer be
passed off as an accident?  It would be next to impossible for her to shake
the label of promiscuity once the teenage rumor mill got going.

   The choice should have been easy.  That burden was too heavy for any
young lady to bear, and I don't for the life of me know why anyone in their
right mind would willingly invite something like that on herself!  But
alas, Lucy -(TM)s mind wasn -(TM)t right.  At least, as I was about to
learn, hers didn -(TM)t work the same as other people.

   Still wavering, she began to speak.  I'm not sure she even knew what she
was going to say next.  "I just..." she started, then faltered, "it's
nothing.  We can talk about it later."

   "Whatever," I feigned annoyance, then waved her off.  Because the urge
had come on too soon in the cycle and so quickly, she was able to fight it
off temporarily.  But the wheels were already in motion - her fate already
sealed.  And because I knew my sister, I had no doubt she would eventually
come back to me and say it.  I turned and walked away so she couldn't see
my grin.