Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 �>�What a Girl Will Do for Love by mcmann.molly

   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 51

   Betsy ran naked and barefoot through the snowstorm, her tears mixing
with the wet snow that melted on her face.  She ran without thinking of
where she should go, except away from Kate, and out of habit went towards
the college.  Even at this hour there would normally have been some traffic
on Fourth Street, the four-lane thoroughfare that ran along the edge of the
campus, but because of the storm the street was desolate.  As Betsy ran
across it, her feet slid out from under her, and she fell hard on her back.
In pain and with the wind knocked out of her, she rolled over in the dirty
slush, and when her breath came back she sobbed and did not have the will
to get up.  She lay face down in the snow-covered street and did not move.

   Get up, Betsy.

   She heard the rumble of an engine and felt its vibration in the street.
Headlights in the distance we're slowly approaching.

   Get up, Betsy.  Think of Hannah and Mindy and Roy and David.  Don't hurt
them by dying out here.  Kate isn't worth it. 

   Betsy struggled to her feet and made it off the street before the giant
snow plow lumbered by, but now her bare feet were ankle deep in the snow.

   Move.  Betsy.  Get indoors. 

   Concentrating on only the present moment and nothing else, Betsy tried
to think which of her friends lived closest.  Aaron.  His apartment was
maybe four blocks away.  She began to run again, but this time with a
purpose.  She sprinted through the snow like an Olympian and soon reached
the garage above which Aaron, Evan and Zach lived.  Climbing the steps to
their door -- her numb, red feet making the only visible footprints on the
snow-covered steps -- she began to fear that all three of them might have
gone back home for the holiday.  She banged on the door and rang the
doorbell over and over, thinking she would have to break a window because
she could not stay outdoors any longer.

   Finally she heard the lock turning and the door opened.  It was Aaron in
a rumpled tshirt squinting in the porchlight.  Betsy rushed past him,
crying  -�I can't feel my toes!  I can -(TM)t feel my toes! -� She ran to
the kitchen, turned on the water in the sink and climbed up on the counter
shoving an empty pizza box out of the way and sat sideways with her feet in
the sink.

    -�What happened, Betsy? -� Aaron asked.   -�Why are you out in this
weather without shoes? -�

    -�Ow, ow, ow, -� Betsy was repeating because even cold water felt hot
at first.  She gradually made the temperature warmer, and then put the plug
in the sink to let it fill up.  Aaron hovered, not knowing what to do.  As
the feeling returned to her toes, Betsy had the luxury of remembering her
other troubles.  She pressed her forehead against her knees and sobbed. 

    -�Betsy, please tell me what happened, -� Aaron pleaded.  She leaned
against him as he put a tentative arm around her while with the other hand
he shut off the water so the sink wouldn't overflow.   -�Your toes are
okay, Betsy, but why weren't you wearing shoes?  Why are you out in this
weather so late? -�

   She looked up at him, her cheeks wet and her eyes puffy and red.   -�I
think Kate and I just broke up, -� she wailed.   -�Can I stay here tonight?
-�

    -�Of course you can.  Evan and Zach are both gone so both of their
rooms are available.  And we still have your toothbrush. -�

   Betsy lifted one foot out of the sink and pulled her foot towards her
face wiggling her toes.  This pushed her bent knee out to the side and
opened her pussy wide, but she was beyond noticing such things.   -�Can I
sleep with you? -� she asked, looking up into Aaron's eyes. 

   Aaron choked, his brain having forgotten how to breathe and swallow at
the same time.   -�What did you say? -� He finally managed to ask.

    -�Would you hand me a paper towel? -� she asked instead, letting one
wet foot dangle while she performed the same inspection on the other foot.
Aaron handed her a couple of paper towels and she dried her feet.   -�Can I
please, -� she asked again.

    -�Um, can you what? -�

    -�Sleep with you.  I don't want to be alone. -�

    -�Um.  Whatever you want, Betsy.  I'll do anything you want. -�

   She hopped down, walked straight to his room and climbed into his bed.
He followed her into the room slowly and stood uncertainly at the foot of
the bed.

    -�Am I on the wrong side? -� Betsy asked. 

    -�You're fine where you are, -� Aaron whispered, having trouble
breathing.  He went to the other side of the bed and gingerly got under the
covers, taking care not to touch her, but as soon as he was settled, she
rolled over and wrapped her naked body around him.

    -�What am I going to do, Aaron? -� Betsy whimpered.

    -�I don't know.  You haven't told me what happened yet. -�

   And so Betsy told him everything, including her own dishonesty early in
the semester when she'd pretended she was going naked by choice.  As she
talked, she cried, wiping her eyes and nose on Aaron's tshirt.  She hugged
him tight, feeling secure against his hairy, bear-like body.  And
eventually she fell asleep.

   When she woke in the morning, it took a while for Betsy -(TM)s brain to
sort out why she was in bed with Aaron.  When she remembered, the weight of
it crushed down on her anew.  She dragged herself out of bed and went to
the bathroom to pee.  She found the toothbrush box with her name on it, and
as she brushed her teeth she looked at herself in the mirror.  Her hair was
a tangled mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes.  When she
finished, she carefully dried her toothbrush on some toilet paper and put
it back in its box.  Somehow it gave her strength to know she had her own
toothbrush in someone else's home.  She leaned close to the mirror to make
eye contact with herself, searching for that strong, happy girl she had
only recently discovered. 

   Betsy thought of Kate, trying to decide what she should do.  Kate said
she was flying out again in the morning.  Would she be gone already?  Would
Betsy ever see her again?  She looked at the clock -- almost 9 a.m.  -- and
knew what she had to do.  She went to the door of Aaron's apartment and
opened it, squinting into the sunny, snow covered morning.  The city plows
had been working all night and the streets were clear, but fresh snow
mounded on the steps leading down from the apartment and no trace remained
of her footprints from the night before.  She stepped down onto the snow
and pulled the door closed behind her until she felt the lock click. 
Leaving a fresh set of barefoot prints in the snow, she went down the
steps, and hurried across the snow-covered driveway to the relative respite
of the plowed street, dry in the sun.

   Betsy ran down the same streets as she had the night before, but now it
was sunny and people were about.  Most of the sidewalks had yet to be
cleared, so Betsy kept to the streets, running unhindered.  Bundled-up
people out shoveling snow paused at their labor to watch the elegant Avery
Nudist fly past, her always-nude body freshly tanned from a weekend on the
ski slopes.  They called out  -�good morning, Betsy, -� and she waved back
at them as she ran with a confident, athletic stride, like a cheetah on the
African plain.  She had to pause at Fourth Street, waiting for the light as
friendly motorists honked their horns and waved through their closed
windows. 

   When the light changed, she was off again, afraid she might be too late.
Three blocks from home, she rounded a corner and saw a yellow taxi in front
of their house.  With another burst of speed, Betsy sprinted the remaining
distance as Kate walked out to the cab with her suitcase.  Kate saw Betsy
coming and stopped in front of the car, putting down her bag and opening
her arms to accept Betsy back, a look of proud vindication on her face. 

   But Betsy did not hurl herself into Kate -(TM)s arms, instead coming to
a stop 10 feet away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. 

   Kate dropped her arms, but stood tall and confident.   -�I'm glad to see
you're okay, -� she said.

    -�I . . .  stayed with . . .  a friend, -� Betsy panted. 

    -�You seem to have acquired a lot more friends in four months here than
you did in three years at Kentfield.  Has it occurred to you why? -�

    -�Because . . .  I'm more outgoing now? -�

    -�These people aren't really your friends, Betsy.  They only want to be
around you because you're naked. -�

    -�Could be, -� Betsy said.   -�That -(TM)s what I thought about you. -�

    -�As I told you last night, that was not the case.  I hope you've had
time to think things through. -�

    -�I haven't thought about anything else, Kate, -� Betsy said, losing
her composure and wiping away tears.

    -�Good, -� Kate said.   -�I'm sorry I sprung it on you so suddenly. -�
She stepped forward, taking Betsy by the shoulders.   -�Babe, I have to get
going to make this flight, but I left you an airline ticket on the kitchen
counter.  It's dated for tomorrow, but you can push the date back a little
if you need to. -�

   Betsy shook her head.   -�I . . .  I can't go to New Westbrook. -�

   The cab driver tapped his horn lightly, and Kate whirled around, angrily
jabbing a finger at him.   -�Turn on your f#cking meter, asshole, -� she
shouted.   -�You'll get your damned fare. -�

   Turning back to Betsy, she added,  -�but he won't get a tip.  Okay,
Babe, I -(TM)d rather not do it this way because it's a waste of money, but
if it's this important to you to finish your degree here, we can keep this
house for a while longer.  You can stay through the end of the semester,
and I'll visit when I can. -�

    -�Kate, I'm not going to want to go New Westbrook at the end of the
semester either.  I'm not leaving Huron. -�

    -�Then why did you come running back here this morning? -�

    -�To . . .  to say goodbye. -�



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 52

    -�Oh stop being childish! -� Kate scolded.   -�Are you truly so
self-absorbed that you would sacrifice our relationship just so you can
prance around naked all the time?  I think I'm being reasonable in
expecting that if you love me, you will put ME first. -�

   Betsy bit her lip.   -�You're right, -� she said, looking down past her
cold-hardened nipples to her reddening toes.   -�You're right that I would
give up my friends, and my school, and even my nudity . . .  for you. -�

    -�Well, that's more like it. -�

   Betsy raised her head until their eyes met.   -�If I still loved you. -�

   Kate's confident expression vanished as quickly as if she'd been
slapped.  -�Now you're just trying to be hurtful, Betsy. -�

   Betsy shook her head as fresh tears ran down her cheeks.   -�The last
thing I want to do is hurt you, Kate, but our whole relationship has been
based on me being afraid of you.  I blamed myself every time you got mad,
apologized even when I knew I wasn't wrong, and felt most in love with you
when you forgave me.  That's gone. -�

    -�We had more than that, -� Kate whispered.   -�Didn't we? -�

    -�I think we might have.  If you weren't leaving, maybe we would have
time to discover that. -�

    -�Are you asking me to stay? -�

    -�No.  If you did, you -(TM)d end up resenting me for it.  You need to
be in New Westbrook.  And I need to be here. -�

   Kate looked away, and as Betsy watched, Kate's expression began to
harden.  Betsy knew what was happening.  Kate was closing her heart to
Betsy and soon there would be no love left on her face.  Betsy didn't want
to see that.   -�Goodbye, Kate, -� she said, her voice cracking.  She
turned and walked away, not looking back.

   Betsy was still walking in the street because the sidewalks were not
cleared.  She heard a car coming up behind her and stepped off the road
into a driveway while it passed.  As she expected, it was the taxi and
Betsy could not stop herself from looking in the back seat window as it
went by.  She saw Kate in profile, focused on her phone and not looking up.

   Betsy watched as the yellow taxi got smaller in the distance and turned,
disappearing from view.  She was crying uncontrollably, but kept walking.
What she'd said to Kate was true on one level, but did not account for the
entirety of Betsy -(TM)s emotions.  She did still love Kate, but she knew
it was not a healthy kind of love.  Betsy had discovered so much about
herself while Kate was gone, and she didn't want to lose that -- which she
feared she would if she stayed with Kate.  That had already been in the
back of her mind in the days leading up to Kate -(TM)s return.  She had
been worried that Kate would not like the new Betsy or that, worse, Kate's
forceful personality would overwhelm Betsy -(TM)s fledgling independence
and Betsy would lose her confidence and revert to the mousy, timid Betsy
that Kate probably preferred.  To save herself, she had to get away from
Kate.

   Lost in her thoughts, Betsy paid little attention to where she was
walking.  It was sunny and the streets and some sidewalks were clear and
dry.  She played back in her mind scene after scene of her time with Kate,
wishing she had asserted herself earlier.  Kate said they'd have laughed it
off if Betsy had confessed right away, and now Betsy blamed herself for
having been too afraid to do so.  What if she had challenged Kate -(TM)s
dominance a long time ago?  What a difference that might have made!

   At some point, Betsy was vaguely aware that the sun had gone behind
clouds and it was snowing again, and soon she was leaving footprints in
new-fallen snow.  She stopped and looked around, but nothing looked
familiar and she hadn't noticed where she had been walking.  When she
reached the next intersection, she looked at the street signs but still
could not get her bearings.  That she was now lost on top of everything
else made Betsy feel like even more of a failure.  She stood on the street
corner and cried, her snow-covered toes now painfully cold.

   Across the street stood an old red brick storefront with a lit neon
sign, saying  -�Beer & Whiskey. -� Crossing the street, Betsy went inside,
grateful for the warmth.  Although it was not yet noon, a dozen or more men
were scattered among the bar -(TM)s booths and tables in various states of
inebriation.  Some blinked their eyes at the unexpected apparition of a
beautiful naked girl in their midst while others remained glassy-eyed and
oblivious. 

   With snow still in her hair and on the tops of her feet, Betsy kept her
head up as she walked towards the bar, where a gray-bearded biker type sat
talking to the bartender.  They both watched her approach as the biker
remarked,  -�well this day -(TM)s lookin -(TM) up. -� 

    -�Could I just sit and warm up a few minutes? -� Betsy asked the
bartender.   -�I don't have any money to buy anything. -�

    -�Betsy Andrews is in my bar, -� the man stated incredulously.  
-�Snake, am I dreaming or is the Avery College Nudist in my bar? -�

    -�That would be her, Johnny, -� the biker said in a gravely voice.  
-�Why don't you give the lady a drink on my tab to warm her up. -�

    -�Thank you, -� Betsy said.   -�but it seems kind of early in the day
for drinking.  Um, no offense, Mr.  Snake. -�

    -�There's no need to put a  -~mister -(TM) on it, darlin. -(TM) Just 
-~Snake -(TM) will do. -�

   She turned her head to look at him directly.  He was three times her
size with several scars and tattoos visible amid the layers of leather,
denim and chains that comprised his wardrobe.   -�Did your mother name you
that? -� 

   He chuckled.   -�No, my mamma named me . . .  something else, and as for
the time of day, me and most of these guys work the night shift at the Ford
Assembly Plant so this is our evening.  That's why Johnny opens this early,
-�

    -�That -(TM)s very understandable, -� Betsy said,  -�and I apologize if
I seemed to suggest otherwise, but I don't have that situation so it's only
too early for me -�

    -�Not meaning to pry, -� Snake said,  -�but sadly I -(TM)m familiar
with what a woman looks like after she's been crying, and I reckon you
might be having the sort of day where maybe you don't care what the clock
-(TM)s opinion is. -�

   Betsy gave him a second look as the events of the past 12 hours rushed
back at her.  And then to the bartender she said,  -�Johnny, may I have a
vodka tonic please? -�

    -�Sorry, darlin -(TM) but we don't serve no vodka, -� Johnny said.  
-�The sign says  -~Beer and Whiskey, -(TM) and that's what we got. -�
Johnny held out one arm indicating his inventory behind the bar.   -�We got
all kinds of whiskey -- scotch, rye, bourbon and such, but no vodka. -�

   Betsy glanced at the dark-colored drink in front of her neighbor and
said,  -�I'll have what he's having. -�

   Johnny poured her a glass of Glenlivet and set it in front of her.  She
took a tentative sip and then a more substantial one.   -�Thank you, Snake,
-� she said.   -�I hope you don't expect anything from a lady in exchange
for buying her a drink. -�

    -�Nothing improper, but I reckon you could tell me how you ended up
here this morning.  If I were still a betting man, my money would be on the
fragile nature of romance. -�

   Betsy laughed darkly.   -�You are a sage one, Mr.  Snake -- I mean
just-Snake-without-the-mister, but my tale may require more than one drink.
-�

    -�Johnny, keep  -~em coming for Miss Betsy, -� Snake said. -�

    -�Just-Betsy-without-the-Miss, -� Betsy corrected, and with that her
story came out.  At first, she made an effort to edit out the more intimate
details of her relationship with Kate, but after three drinks she had
forgotten this intention and was just reaching the point in the story where
she had begun to genuinely love being naked.  Driven by a compulsion to
make this part of herself understood, Betsy explained sincerely, but at
rapturous length, how wonderful it felt having certain of her body parts
fully exposed.  By this point, her audience was no longer limited to Snake
and Johnny.  Other haggard and world-worn men, many in biker gear or
mechanic -(TM)s overalls, had migrated from the darkened, far-flung corners
of the room and were seated at a respectful periphery.  Betsy had become
aware of their presence and had swiveled around on her bar stool (so as not
to be rude) as she waxed poetic (if somewhat slurred in pronunciation)
concerning the near-religious sense of oneness with the universe and all of
humanity that she felt when the universe and all of humanity could see her
lady parts. 

   That uplifting oration took her through her fourth drink, and her fifth
was consumed as she related the most recent events -- the revelation of
Kate -(TM)s deception, and worse, how she then tried to strip Betsy of her
nudity just as it had become the life she so loved.  Betsy wept as she told
this part of the story, and all around her men wiped their eyes with
calloused hands and honked their noses into sweat-stained Harley Davidson
bandanas.

   Having brought herself to the present, Betsy now felt an urgent need to
get back to her home even if it would not be her home much longer. 
Hurriedly thanking Snake for the drinks and everyone else for their
hospitality, she slid uncertainty off of the bar stool -- which now seemed
higher off the floor than it had been when she arrived -- and navigated her
way to the front door, not quite in a straight line, and out into the cold
afternoon.

   The snow had continued to fall the entire time she'd been inside, and
now Betsy's bare feet were ankle deep.  She looked around the unfamiliar
neighborhood, realizing she had forgotten to ask for directions.  She was
thinking of going back inside but suddenly felt an overwhelming queasiness.
She leaned over an empty flower box and vomited into it.  Staggering
backwards, she slipped and fell on her butt, and then sat in the snow for a
long moment trying to clear her head.  For some reason that she could not
understand, her mind was filled with a rumbling, roaring sound -- and then
she saw three motorcycles emerge from the alley that went along the side of
the brick bar.  In front was Snake, who put down his kickstand and
dismounted to come help her stand up.

    -�Your old Uncle Snake isn't gonna let you walk home in your condition,
-� he said, leading her back to his massive Harley.  A few minutes later,
the three motorcycles were rumbling down busy Fourth Street past campus. 
The new semester was about to begin and everyone had come back from
Solstice Break.  The choppers were too loud to ignore so everyone noticed
naked Betsy riding with three very hardcore-looking bikers.  All along the
route, phones came out to capture this latest Betsy sighting in photos and
video that would be posted, shared and commented upon within the hour. 



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 53

   Still quite drunk, but no longer feeling sick, Betsy happily waved and
blew kisses to passersby as they lined up on the sidewalk like spectators
at a parade.  Betsy could see nothing straight ahead except the back of
Snake -(TM)s leather jacket, which was emblazoned with his nickname and
adorned with skulls and cobras.  She imagined Mrs.  Snake at home in her
rocking chair busily embroidering skulls and snakes on all of her husband
-(TM)s clothing. 

   When they reached the little blue house that would not be her home much
longer, Snake walked her up onto the snowy porch and waited as she
retrieved her key from under the clay pot.  She stood on her tiptoes to hug
him, but he still had to lean down for her. 

    -�Thank you, Uncle Snake, -� she said.   -�Maybe when the weather gets
nicer you can take me on a longer ride? -�

    -�Any time you want.  And it's Lyle, by the way -- the name my mamma
gave me. -�

    -�Well, thank you, Lyle. -�

    -�Just don't tell the boys. -�

   Once inside, Betsy felt utterly exhausted and threw herself on the
living room couch where she fell immediately asleep.  Hours passed, and in
her stupor Betsy heard knocking at the door and her name being called by
familiar voices, but she was unable to respond.  When she woke, she felt
terrible by every measure.  Her head hurt, her mouth tasted like vomit. . .
and she remembered.  Kate was gone.  Betsy would probably never see her
again.  The house she loved was hers no more.  She had to leave it.  Where
would she go?

   Betsy also had not eaten in nearly 24 hours.  Hunger drove her to the
refrigerator where she stood with the door open stuffing slices of cheese
into her mouth.  Brushing her teeth became her next priority, followed by
peeing -- during both of which she cried.

   Her phone was beeping in her purse, and when she retrieved it she saw a
dozen unread texts and emails.  None was from Kate.  Most of the messages
were from Lu Chen and Taylor, who had gotten the news of the breakup from
Aaron.  Betsy quickly replied  -�I'm okay -� to each of them before opening
a cheery note from Michelle with a dozen happy photos of her and Dean at
Solstice.  Betsy could not bear to look at them.  Another email was from
Maddie McGuire from Channel 5.  Maddie gushed over Betsy -(TM)s two recent
times on TV -- the mid-blizzard standup and the skiing footage from Lake
Gaston.  Maddie was suggesting arranging another  -�appearance, -� but
Betsy could not imagine doing that again.  Midway through reading that
email, Betsy received a frantic text from Lu Chen.   -�Where are you?? 
We've been trying to find you all day.  Are you still with those biker
guys??  You almost broke the Internet with that one.  Please call me! -�

   Betsy clicked on Lu Chen -(TM)s number but on the second ring her phone
died.  She started to look for her charger, but remembered.  This wasn't
her home anymore.  She had to leave the little blue house forever.  Like a
zombie, she went from room to room gathering what little actually belonged
to her -- shoes, hats, purses, her jewelry box (from which she removed the
strand of pearls), her toiletry items, her phone and tablet with their
chargers.  Some of this fit in her little Ariel backpack, and the rest she
put into a grocery sack.  She put on tennis shoes and a ball cap, deciding
to leave her knee-high boots behind.  In part, this was because she didn't
want anything Kate had bought her, but also because they were so big. 
Betsy felt oddly burdened just by the half-filled grocery bag.  She put her
key on the kitchen counter and stepped out onto the porch, looking back to
see the Rapture Blue gradually disappear as she pulled the door shut until
it latched.

   As she walked away from the house, Betsy wondered why she wasn't crying.
She felt emotionally numb, which she decided was an improvement.  The sun
was going down and Betsy hoped to spend the night at Lu Chen -(TM)s but her
phone had died before she could ask.  Lu Chen lived in the same row of
studio apartments Dean did, each with its own exterior door like a low-cost
motel.  When she knocked on the door, Betsy heard Lu Chen cry,  -�it -(TM)s
Betsy! -� The door opened a crack as Lu Chen seemed to be confirming that
Betsy was alone, and then it flew open and Lu Chen hugged her, saying, 
-�we were all so worried about you!  Where've you been? -�

   Betsy followed her inside, but was too distracted by Lu Chen -(TM)s
appearance to focus on the question.   -�Lulu, you're naked! -� Just as Lu
Chen had never seen Betsy clothed, Betsy had never seen her naked.

   Lu Chen reddened and fidgeted as if resisting the urge to cover herself.
 -�Yeah, I'm kinda trying that out, but just when I'm alone at home.  So
you're okay? -�

    -�I'm fine, Lulu.  I just need a place to stay tonight.  Can I sleep
here with you? -�

    -�Oh god yes! -� Lu Chen laughed.   -�Did you hear that, Brian?  I'm
gonna sleep with Betsy tonight!  She -(TM)s gonna finish turning me into a
lesbian! -�

   Lu Chen had a one-room apartment so Betsy was confused until she heard
male laughter coming from Lu Chen -(TM)s open laptop.   -�Come meet him, -�
she said, grabbing Betsy by the elbow. 

    -�He's not naked too, is he? -�

   Lu Chen laughed.   -�No, no, just me -- and you, of course!  But I'll
hang up after you meet him so you and I can talk about more important
stuff. -�

   Betsy followed Lu Chen and sat next to her on the futon in front of her
computer.  On the screen was a curly-haired blond boy.   -�Nice to finally
meet you, -� he said.   -�It -(TM)s really cool what you do.  Loo might
become a nudist too. -�

    -�I will not -� Lu Chen insisted.   -�Not a full-time public one
anyway. -�

    -�So what are you naked girls going to do tonight? -� Brian asked
mischievously.

    -�We -(TM)re going to TALK, -� Lu Chen stressed,  -�so I -(TM)m hanging
up now. -�

    -�Wait.  I want to get Betsy's take on your bi-- -� 

   Lu Chen snapped the laptop shut.   -�So let -(TM)s talk about you,
Betsy. Aaron told us what you told him.  I -(TM)m so sorry.  And yet, at
the same times I'm also not sorry because of how Kate treated you.  Do you
want to talk about it some more? -�

    -�Not really, Lulu.  I feel kind of talked out for now, but I'll
probably be bawling in the morning so stay tuned.  Meantime, I could use
some cheering up. -�

    -�Okay, what can we do to cheer you up? -�

    -�I already got cheered up seeing you naked!  I want to hear all about
this part-time nudist thing, and what was Brian trying to ask me about? 
Your bi . . .  cycle?  Your bi . . .  ology homework? -�

   Lu Chen blushed again.   -�You know I tell Brian everything -- including
my teeny bit of bisexual feelings, which YOU stirred up in me. -�

    -�How teeny? -�

    -�Very teeny.  But I did like it when you kissed me that time.  And
cleaning that paint off your butt.  And putting lotion on your back.  And
just seeing you naked all the time. -�

    -�Wow, Lulu, so now you're a lesbian AND a nudist! -�

    -�I'm not a lesbian, and Brian talked me into seeing what it's like to
go naked sometimes. -�

    -�Hmmm.  Well, I say don -(TM)t do it unless YOU want to. -�

    -�I do want to.  Especially with you.  I -(TM)ve always imagined what
it would be like to just . . .  lounge around naked with you. -�

    -�Really?  Well let's lounge around then! -� Betsy said, stretching
herself out on the couch with her head in Lu Chen -(TM)s lap.   -�Is this
what you meant by lounging? -�

    -�Yes, Betsy, that's definitely lounging. -�

    -�Well, this is certainly a nice view, -� Betsy said.   -�You have
fabulous boobs, Lulu.  You know that, don't you? -�

    -�No. -�

    -�Liar.  Oh, and look, you have a belly button ring! -� Betsy turned
her head towards Lu Chen -(TM)s body, and with her fingertip she touched
the jewel and the skin around it.  As she did so, Betsy caught the scent of
Lu Chen -(TM)s vagina.  She felt a powerful urge to kiss the lovely expanse
of skin between her belly button and the source of the inviting aroma.  Bad
idea, she told herself.  Lots of reasons.  To remove herself from
temptation, Betsy sat up again and lounged in the opposite direction, now
with her feet in Lu Chen -(TM)s lap.

    -�It's nice that you and Brian are managing to have a long-distance
relationship, -� she said, trying to get back to safer territory.

    -�We work at it, -� Lu Chen said, now playing with Betsy -(TM)s toes. 
-�We talk on video several times a day, and we always tell each other
everything. -�

    -�No secrets or lies in a relationship, -� Betsy said, pretending to
write it down.   -�I need to try that next time. -�

   Lu Chen laughed, but Betsy was reminded that she had something to
confess.   -�Lulu, I assume Aaron told you I wasn't being honest with you
guys when we first met, -� she said.   -�I lied back then when I said I
loved being naked.  I do love it now, but I didn't when I first told you
that. -�

    -�Oh don't apologize, -� Lu Chen insisted.   -�Kate put you in a
terrible situation.  But learning that just made what you've done more
inspirational to me!  You weren't comfortable at first, but you made
yourself do it and now you love it.  So maybe if I just do it, I'll get
over my own reservations. -�

    -�Promise me you'll only do it because YOU want to, and not just to
please Brian. -�

   Just then, Lu Chen -(TM)s computer jingled.   -�I promise, -� she said.
That's him now, calling to say goodnight. -� She opened the lid and there
he was again. -�

    -�Hi girls! -� he said.   -�Did you have a good talk. -�

    -�No, we were too busy having SEX! -� Betsy said.   -�I don't know how
she got her tongue so DEEP! -�

    -�She's kidding, -� Lu Chen said. 

    -�I know, -� Brian laughed.   -�I'd have believed her if she'd said you
made out. -�

    -�We didn't do that either. -�

    -�But you officially could. -�

    -�Goodnight, Brian. -�

    -�It -(TM)s in the rules. -�

    -�GoodNIGHT, Brian, -� Lu Chen repeated, closing the laptop.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 54

   While Lu Chen opened up the futon and prepared the bed, Betsy retrieved
her toiletries.  The sight of the grocery bag reminded her anew of her sad
situation.  She would never go back to her little blue house; she would
probably never see Kate again.  Looking in the mirror, Betsy made eye
contact with herself for a long moment and felt confident she was going to
be all right.  She mourned the loss of what she thought she'd had with
Kate, but now she knew she was better off without what that relationship
actually had been.  She liked the person she had so recently become and
would not give that up for anything.  True, she might have saved her
relationship with Kate had she been more assertive earlier, but if she had
done that she wouldn't be naked now.  Whatever Kate's motives, her actions
had allowed Betsy to discover her love of nudity, and for that she would
always be grateful.  As she finished brushing her teeth, Betsy exchanged
another meaningful look with her reflection, which smiled back at her and
silently mouthed the words  -�you go girl. -�

   Lu Chen was already in bed and Betsy slid in next to her, both of them
instantly wrapping their naked bodies around each other, giggling like
schoolgirls having a sleepover.

    -�So, -� Betsy said.   -�Are you going to tell me what Brian meant by
that last thing? -�

    -�What last thing? -�

    -�About something being in the rules. -�

    -�Oh, he just meant kissing.  You and me kissing.  If we should want
to. -�

    -�There -(TM)s a rule about that? -�

    -�It has to do with me being a teeny bit bisexual -- which I didn't
know about until you got blue paint in your butt. -�

    -�I thought you were just kidding when you said that was turning you
gay. -�

    -�I was kidding -- at least about being an actual lesbian -- but i've
come to realize there is some degree of bisexuality in me. -�

    -�And you told Brian. -�

    -�Yes, because I tell him everything.  And he said I should explore
that part of myself. -�

   Betsy laughed.   -�Of course he did!  All guys think their girlfriends
should fool around with other girls.  They're so very  -~tolerant -(TM) in
that regard -- right up until the girl decides she likes that better and
dumps the guy. -�

    -�I know that won't happen with me, -� Lu Chen said,  -�because I
really like what men have between their legs.  I just also have the urge to
kiss girls, especially you, but I realize that this probably isn't the
right time to ask you to do that -- even though we're naked in bed together
-- because you just went through a breakup and probably wouldn -(TM)t feel
like-- -�

   Lu Chen was unable to finish her thought because this was when Betsy
kissed her.  It wasn't a quick little kiss like she'd given her the first
time, but real kiss  -" the kind of kiss meant to be written about in a
diary and remembered in old age.

   When their lips parted, Betsy started to make a joke about helping Lu
Chen with her bisexuality  -�research, -� but barely got two words out
before Lu Chen grabbed her by the head and kissed her back.  This went on
for a while, during which they caressed each other -(TM)s bare backs and
hips, but neither tried to escalate the experience beyond kissing.  Some
small rational part of Betsy -(TM)s brain fretted that she really shouldn't
be doing this at all, but she didn't listen.  It felt too right.  She
needed this as a reminder that one day she would love again.  Kissing Lulu
was like kissing Michelle -- slow, gentle, and unhurried.  Kate had been an
aggressive kisser, always in control and treating each kiss as the most
economical next step to reach the ultimate goal.  As much as she adored
Lulu, Betsy could not help herself from imagining how this night would have
played out had Michelle not been in Italy.  With Dean.  No, it was better
this way, she told herself.  Lulu only wanted a little bit.  Michelle would
have wanted more than Betsy could deal with right now.  Or Betsy would have
wanted more.  She wasn't sure, but she knew things were less complicated
with Lulu.

   In the morning, Betsy woke with Lulu -(TM)s limbs still entwined with
hers.  As she stared at another unfamiliar ceiling, her mind again went
through the tumultuous events leading to the present moment, and for the
first time the memories did not feel devastating.  Lu Chen -(TM)s laptop
jingled and she woke, smiling at Betsy and opening the computer.

    -�Good morning, ladies, -� Brian said cheerily.  It was as if he'd been
sitting there in her computer all night, though he was wearing a different
shirt.   -�How was your evening? -�

    -�There was lots of kissing, -� Betsy said.

    -�And breast fondling? -�

    -�Wait -- breast fondling was allowed? -� Betsy cried.   -�Nobody told
me that! -�

    -�I -(TM)m not sure I'm ready for that, -� Lu Chen said,  -�but Brian
said anything above waist is okay with him. -�

    -�What a great guy!  You should keep him -- at least until I finish
turning you into a lesbian.  Then he'll be obsolete, of course. -�

   Betsy got out of bed and went to the bathroom to give the couple
privacy. She took a shower and dried her hair, and then gathered up her
backpack and grocery bag.   -�You can come back tonight if you want, -� Lu
Chen said.   -�No boob action, though. -�

    -�Dang it, -� Betsy said.   -�Actually, I -(TM)m going to try not to be
a burden on anyone during my hopefully brief state of homelessness.  I'm
planning to mooch off of Tiffany tonight -- though she doesn't know it yet.
-�

    -�Oh fine! -� Lu Chen pouted, pretending to be mad.   -�It -(TM)s
because I don't put out, isn't it? -�

   Betsy put her arms around her friend and asked,  -�is there anything in
the rules about butt-slapping? -� 

   SMACK!  The slap came so quickly Lu Chen had barely had time to digest
the question let alone guard herself against it.   -�Very not allowed! -�
she shrieked.

    -�Oops, -� Betsy said, heading out the door.   -�My mistake.  You need
to write these rules down so a person can keep track. -�

   Outside, it was barely 20 degrees but sunny, and Betsy enjoyed the chill
air on her bare skin.  Her first stop was the campus gym, where she rented
a locker and spent a few minutes organizing her shoes, hats, a couple of
purses and her little jewelry box.  Looking at her remaining material
possessions, Betsy ached for what she had lost, but felt hopeful for the
future.  Carrying a small purse over her shoulder and wearing tennis shoes
and a ball cap, she set out for her next errand -- but she wasn't looking
forward to it.

   Betsy walked back to her former neighborhood, to her former house.  She
intentionally avoided looking at the house and went straight to her car. 
It was toasty warm inside from the sun, but cooled off quickly when she
rolled down all the windows and put down the convertible top.  Though she
only needed to move the car a few blocks, Betsy drove aimlessly around the
neighboring streets before finally pulling up to a parking space.  Leaving
the top down, she got out and started taking pictures of the car with her
phone.  As she did so, a guy she knew from class came along.

    -�HI Ben, -� Betsy said.   -�Want to buy a car? -�

    -�I wish, -� Ben said.   -�It's a beauty.  Why are you selling it? -�

    -�Money.  Tuition is due and I don't have enough to pay it. -�

    -�Bummer.  Want me to take a picture of you with it -- as a memento? -�

    -�Yeah, I'd like that, -� Betsy said, feeling sentimental.  She handed
Ben her phone and posed for a few shots in front of the car and then a few
more in the driver -(TM)s seat.  Afterwards, Ben went on his way and Betsy
put the car -(TM)s top back up and took another photo.

   Had she stayed at her old college, Betsy would have had sufficient funds
to get through the year.  Avery was a more expensive school, plus she was
paying non-resident rates since she'd only recently moved into the
province. Fall tuition had tapped most of her remaining savings, but Kate
had told her not to worry about it -- that she'd take care of the next one.
Betsy knew it would be reasonable, under the circumstances, for her to ask
Kate to keep that promise, but she was not going to ask.  Selling the car
was the right thing to do.  Even so, it probably wasn't worth as much as
she needed -- and she needed to sell it fast to pay at least part of the
tuition.  She would have to borrow the rest.  She posted the pictures of
her car online, Including one shot of herself behind the wheel.  It did not
show any nudity -- just her face, bare shoulders and arm.  She listed it
for the price she hoped to get, but reluctantly added  -�will accept best
offer; must sell. -�

   The next items on her list of things to do included looking for a job
and finding a place to sleep that night.  She texted Tiffany, awkwardly
asking if she might spend one night, and then forced herself to flip
through the photos of Michelle and Dean.  They looked so happy together and
she missed them both.  Michelle had ended her note with the question  -�did
Kate make it home for Solstice? -� Betsy could not answer that question in
the time she had available so she set it aside to answer later.

   Now came the grueling task of looking for a job.  She started scrolling
the job ads: barista, bartender, waitress and cleaning service jobs.  Yuck.
Of course, Betsy was not unaware of the fact that she could trade on her
celebrity.  If she was videotaped saying  -�Eat at Joe -(TM)s, -� people
probably would.  But she didn't want to use her popularity in that way. 
Betsy's perusal of the job listings was interrupted by a call from Tiffany,
who had heard rumors of the breakup but was not in the same social circle
as Lu Chen, Aaron and Taylor so she did not know the full story.

   Once again Betsy told it all, but this time she didn't break down
crying. Her voice cracked when she said the words  -�and I'll probably
never see her again, -� but otherwise she got through it without tears. 
There was still an open wound in her heart, but she knew it was starting to
heal.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 55

   The call took a while, and when Betsy hung up she saw notifications that
several people were bidding on her car.  Within minutes, the sale was
concluded -- for twice the amount she had asked.  She felt a little guilty
knowing that including a photo of herself -- even though it only showed her
face -- may have been a factor, but she didn't feel too guilty.  She was
selling her own car, not hawking some commercial product.  The windfall
meant she had enough to pay for tuition without a loan.  She even had some
money left over, but not enough to rent an apartment. 

   That night she shared a bed with Tiffany, who did have not any
bi-curious urgings to work through, so all they did was sleep.  That -(TM)s
all Betsy really wanted in her bedmates, and she tried to be clear about it
as she began hitting up more friends for sleepovers.  It was a temporary
strategy, but it gave her a little time to figure things out.

   On Monday, she arranged to stay with Marla, who played drums in a band
and habitually turned random objects into percussion instruments.  Tuesday
would be Shelly, a rugby player and weightlifter with legs so strong she
once lifted a small car off the ground (or so she claimed).  Next would be
Jamilah, whose parents were from Somalia but raised her in Manchester,
England so she had an adorable accent.  And then Thursday she -(TM)d stay
with AJ, who had 27 tattoos and could expound at length on the symbolism of
each.  That just left Friday to get her into the weekend.

    -�I love your Ariel backpack! -� a familiar voice called out behind her
as she entered a classroom on the first day of the semester.  It was Molly,
a red-haired girl Betsy had gotten to know dancing with Tiffany and
Lashona.  -�I had one just like that when I was a kid, -� Molly went on as
they found seats together,  -�and tons of other Ariel bling. -�

    -�I can see why, -� Betsy said, holding the image next to Molly -(TM)s
face.   -�She looks just like you. -�

    -�Except SHE has no freckles, -� Molly pointed out, slipping off her
coat,  -�which I've always found rather suspicious. -� Like Betsy, Molly
had a high tolerance for cold weather and nearly always wore skimpy summer
dresses, even in winter.  Her exposed arms and shoulders were covered in
freckles, as was the visible portion of her chest above her obviously
braless breasts.

    -�Are you suggesting the Little Mermaid colors her hair? -� Betsy asked
with mock alarm.

    -�Well . . .  I don't like to start rumors. -�

   Betsy laughed and took another look at her calendar.   -�Say, Molly, are
you busy Friday night? -� 

   In this way, Betsy got through her first week of homelessness.  Each
morning, she would either shower at her host -(TM)s home or go to the gym
and shower there.  The problem with showering at the gym was that often
there were no clean towels.  They were only the size of hand towels and
threadbare from repeated washings, so the average person might go through
three or four to get dry, quickly using them up.  Betsy discovered this the
hard way one very cold morning when she emerged from the showers to find
the towel rack empty and the clock saying she had only a few minutes to get
to her first class.  She had no choice but to exit the building dripping
wet into 15-degree weather. 

   During the day, Betsy had no home to go to and spent whatever free time
she had in cafeterias and public lounge areas (where she sometimes took a
nap in the afternoon).  Though she had many casual acquaintances, Betsy
didn't want everyone to know her situation.  Her intention was to look for
a job that weekend, but her friends worked so hard to distract her from her
romantic troubles that she didn't have a moment to spare.  Tiffany, Lashona
and Molly took her dancing Friday night, while Lu Chen, Taylor and Aaron
concocted a ping-pong tournament that totally preoccupied the
always-competitive Betsy most of Saturday afternoon.  Beyond these events,
she only had time for school work and to sort out additional offers she was
receiving for overnight accommodations.

   The next week was largely a repeat of the first.  Each night she slept
in a different bed with a different friend, going through the first
rotation except for Shelly who got dropped for being too gropey in bed. 
Betsy replaced her with Lashona, whose 70s-era Afro enveloped Betsy -(TM)s
head when they embraced, and she also added Annabelle, who was even more
ticklish than Betsy and had a high-pitched, squeaky laugh that had been
compared to Minnie Mouse having an orgasm. 

   By the third week, Betsy felt surprisingly comfortable in her vagabond
lifestyle, and so enjoyed sleeping with her girlfriends that she gave
little thought to changing the arrangement.  Even if she could afford it,
getting an apartment would represent a psychological next step from the
little blue house she'd shared with Kate.  Though she tried not to show it
outwardly, Betsy was still in mourning for what she had lost. 
Intellectually, she knew she had made the right decision about Kate, but
she had invested so much into that relationship, and the little house.  She
also had aching regrets about Michelle, imagining what might have happened
if they'd both been single at the same time.  Betsy -(TM)s doubts and fears
often haunted her at night when her bedmate of the evening was asleep. 
Alone with her thoughts while staring at the shadowy ceiling, she would
weep quietly, her tears trickling down her temples to the pillow.

   During the day, when she was in class or socializing, Betsy felt
confident and even happy.  The liberty to be naked made her feel so alive,
and that thrill was no longer muted by the uncertainties she'd felt before.
Now, nothing whatsoever stood in the way of the utter joy she felt being
naked -- and being seen naked.  She loved coming into a big lecture hall,
her bare skin all cold and red from being outdoors, knowing everyone was
looking at her.  She would take a seat next to someone new -- some dorky
guy or shy girl.  She would initiate small talk -- learning the person
-(TM)s name, which she would remember -- while making a show of fishing
around in her purse for her chapstick, which she would apply first to her
lips and then to her labia -- tending to the second task with meticulous
care.  As she did this, she would chatter away nonchalantly about how the
dry winter air made her sensitive parts more sensitive, especially on days
when she was more wet than usual down there.  And then she would make eye
contact with the person and confidentially whisper,  -�but I just can't
help myself. -�

    -�So I have a question for you, -� Lu Chen said.  They were in her bed,
having just turned out the light.   -�When you pulled that chapstick stunt
in class today -- were you turning yourself on or just teasing boys? -�

    -�Both, of course. -�

    -�So after six month of nudity, it -(TM)s still arousing for you? -�

    -�Not constantly, but sometimes I look down at myself and something
just clicks, and it's almost like I'm realizing I'm naked for the first
time. -�

    -�I've seen you like that! -� Lu Chen laughed.   -�You get all flushed
and fidgety. -�

    -�Yep.  Sometimes it gets so bad I have to find a place to . . .  you
know. -�

    -�You do?  How often? -�

    -�Not real often.  About once a week. -�

    -�Where?  In the restroom? -�

    -�Nah, I can't stay quiet enough, and those tile bathrooms really echo.
-�

    -�Where then? -�

   Betsy rattled off five or six semi-private outdoor locations she had
tried, all of them imperfect.   -�I'm pretty quick about it, but it's
challenging because I want to close my eyes, but then I can't keep watch in
case someone comes by. -�

    -�Wow, -� Lu Chen said, and then after a thoughtful pause she added, 
-�maybe you need, like, a spotter. -�

    -�Hmmm, that's an idea.  I wonder who I could get to do that? -�

   Betsy and Lu Chen had a class together at 1 p.m., and they both had the
next period free.  They agreed that next time Betsy needed to . . . 
relieve tension, that Lu Chen would be her lookout.  Theoretically, that
could have been several days away, but the idea of it was so tantalizing
that the very next morning Betsy got herself worked up thinking about it,
and when she finally made it to her 1 p.m class, Lu Chen took one look at
her and knew this would be the day.

    -�Ooooh, -� where are we gonna do it? -� she asked. 

    -�Park bench on the hill, -� Betsy breathed. 

    -�You sure you don't just want to do it right here?  I'm sure no one
would mind.  Want me to raise my hand and ask the prof if it -(TM)s okay?
-�

    -�Don't joke about it, Lulu.  That just makes it worse. -�

    -�Okay, I'll be good, -� Lu Chen said, patting Betsy on the thigh, but
then she left her hand there.  Betsy pushed it away, hissing  -�you're
supposed to be helping. -�

    -�Sorry, -� Lu Chen whispered, and busied herself with note-taking for
the rest of class.  Betsy -(TM)s kettle simmered away, but did not boil
over, and after class they went outside together and followed the sidewalk
up the snow-covered hill.  It was about 30 degrees and had been sunny all
morning , but now snow had begun to fall again.  Lu Chen zipped her coat
and put her hands in her pockets, but for the naked yet over-heated Betsy
the cold air felt refreshing. 

   When they reached the bench, it was covered by a light layer of fresh
snow.  Lu Chen started brushing it off, but Betsy plopped her bare bottom
down on it.  Lu Chen sat next to her.   -�Okay, what do I do? -�

    -�Just keep an eye out on those two sidewalks behind us and that one we
just walked up.  Tell me if you see anyone coming. -�

    -�Is it okay if I watch you too? -�

    -�Sure, lezbo, as long as you're also doing your job. -�

    -�It's for my bisexuality research.  The coast is clear, by the way. -�

   Betsy already had her hand in her lap subtly rubbing herself in an
inconspicuous manner that would be hard to spot from a distance.  She knew
from experience she was nearly always being watched, and pictures she
didn't even know were being taken would show up on the Internet.  At this
point, she still had her eyes open and caught Lulu intently watching the
action. 

    -�Don't forget . . .  to do your job . . .  lezbo, -� she said, as she
brought herself close to the tipping point. 

    -�I'm doing my job, you pervy exhibitionist.  Just focus on yours. -�

   Betsy smiled and closed her eyes.  It was a relief having someone being
her lookout, and it was arousing that Lulu wanted to watch.  After a very
short while, she was moaning.   -�Is it still okay? -� she whispered.

    -�All clear, sweetie, -� Lu Chen replied softly, kissing her on the
cheek.   -�I -(TM)m protecting you, so just let yourself go. -�



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 56

   Betsy did, arching her back and then hurling herself against Lu Chen,
burying her face in the other girl's neck and nearly climbing onto her lap.
Her hand, now wedged between their bodies, was still vigorously at its
task. Lu Chen nervously looked around in all directions and still saw no
one nearby -- though the carillon bells were starting to chime so she knew
students would be streaming out of the buildings down below any second. 
But Betsy was done, and had collapsed against her.  Lu Chen wrapped her
arms around her gloriously uninhibited friend -(TM)s perpetually naked
body, her hand resting on Betsy -(TM)s cold, wet butt. 

    -�God, I want to do this every day! -� Lu Chen cried,  -�but you'd
better sit normal because people are coming. -�

   Betsy did not do it every day, but she loved having the option.  Lu Chen
started coming up with suggestions for other locations they could try, and
Betsy was intrigued by some of those possibilities.

   Betsy's ongoing sleeping arrangement enabled her to get by for several
weeks on the very small amount of savings left from the sale of her car --
which she mostly used to replenish her friends -(TM) supplies of food and
beauty products.  She kept telling herself she really should get a job, but
there always seemed to be a party or lunch date to occupy her, and she
continued to put off that decision.  She also kept putting off telling
Michelle about her breakup with Kate.  Though she'd explained it to others
many times, that had all been in conversation.  Writing it down felt like
too much of a burden.  Also, she didn't want to make Michelle or Dean feel
guilty about not being here for her.  They were having a fun and romantic
time in Italy, and Betsy didn't want to do anything that would undermine
their relationship.  Betsy wished it wasn't Dean that Michelle was with. 
Had it been some stranger, Betsy might have told Michelle already.

   Though it was the middle of winter, Betsy no longer thought much about
the challenge of outdoor nudity.  The Kingsley area received a lot of snow,
but the temperature rarely dropped below 20 degrees.  She had learned she
could handle that, particularly because her day-to-day world was
geographically small.  She even went barefoot sometimes when the walkways
were clear of snow.  The gym closed at 9 p.m.  so sometimes just before
then she would lock up every material object she owned, including her shoes
and phone, and walk out into the night with nothing whatsoever, letting the
heavy door slam shut behind her and knowing as she heard it latch that she
could not get back in until morning.  Being utterly possessionless as well
as homeless was an oddly erotic thrill she could not quite explain, though
she sometimes tried in the dark intimacy of bed.  In those tender, quiet
moments, her friends would reveal to her their own secret desires and
fantasies.  She was surprised how many of her friends imagined becoming
nudists, though for most of them it would never be more than fantasy.  AJ
seemed somewhat serious about it because she loved her tattoos and felt
they were best displayed holistically.  Molly spoke about her urges the
most passionately, and had begun going nude around her housemates, while
Lulu had allowed Brian -(TM)s roommates to see her naked on video chat.

   In the middle of her third week of homelessness, Betsy received an email
from the general manager at Channel 5 wanting to schedule a meeting  -�to
discuss our proposal. -� Betsy thought it must be a mistake or a joke until
she remembered the email from Maddie McGuire that she had not finished
reading because it came the day after her breakup with Kate.  She searched
for it in her inbox and skimmed over the initial paragraphs in which Maddie
praised the poise, athleticism and personality Betsy had exhibited in the
now-several appearances she had made on Channel 5. 

    -�Thus far, -� the email went on,  -�Channel 5 has covered you as a
newsworthy local personality, and we are grateful for the time you have
provided.  Now, we would like to formalize our relationship with you by
inviting you to participate in planned programming for which you would be
well-compensated. -�

   A job!  They were offering her a job doing standups and things she'd
been doing for free!  Trying not to sound too eager, she typed a polite
reply to the email expressing mild curiosity.  Minutes later, she received
a response proposing lunch downtown on Friday, and offering to send a car
to pick her up.  Betsy counted to 100 slowly before replying that as luck
would have it she had an opening on her schedule and that she had her own
transportation.  Neither statement was quite true, given that she would be
skipping two classes and taking the train. 

   Betsy juggled her sleep-over schedule to spend Thursday night with
Tiffany, the most glamor-minded of her bed-mates.  Tiff was the kind of
girl who would not flee a burning building until her hair and makeup were
perfect.  She gave Betsy the covergirl treatment Friday morning and also
provided Betsy -(TM)s entire wardrobe  -"red Garavani pumps with matching
bead necklace, earrings and clutch purse.  It was a mild day, almost
springlike for January, and Betsy felt so elegant as she walked to the
train station, though being so  -�dressed up -� gave her a pang of
nostalgia for the glamorous evenings she had once spent with Kate. 

   The train was late, and when she got off downtown, Betsy realized she'd
miscalculated and it would be a longer walk through downtown than she'd
planned.  This meant she was at risk of being late so she tried to walk
quickly but that was difficult to do in Tiffany -(TM)s heels.  Those small
concerns aside, Betsy felt absolutely wonderful striding naked through
downtown Kingsley.  It was the first time she'd been downtown since coming
to the decision to stay naked, and now she could relax and fully enjoy it.
She loved watching her reflection in shop window and seeing the expressions
of surprise and delight on the faces of nearly everyone she passed. 
Tiffany had done such a nice job on her hair and makeup, Betsy felt like a
supermodel -- a naked, sexually aroused supermodel.  Knowing she would be a
few minutes late, she called Maddie to let them know she was only a block
away. 

    -�What street are you on? -� Maddie asked.

    -�Main Street. -�

    -�Coming from the north or south? -�

    -�Um, south.  Why do you ask? -�

    -�Oh, no reason.  See you in a few minutes.  No need to hurry. -�

   That was curious, Betsy thought as she continued walking.  The sun had
disappeared behind dark clouds and Betsy's felt a few raindrops on her skin
as she began crossing the wide plaza leading to the restaurant.  That's
when she noticed the cameraman under the restaurant awning filming her
approach.  Already aroused by the comparatively small number of people
watching her in person, now she knew that millions more might soon see her
making this walk.  Pretending she didn't notice the camera, Betsy sashayed
like a movie star across the plaza.  Then she felt a few more raindrops on
her skin, and as she glanced at the sky the dark clouds suddenly opened and
the rain came down.  Had she not put so much effort into looking her best,
Betsy wouldn't have cared about the rain.  Oh well.  It was too late to
save her hair and makeup, and she would look stupid trying to run in heels
so Betsy did what she did best -- kept her chin up and a smile on her face
as she strolled unconcernedly through the chilly downpour, coming closer
and closer to the camera while never looking directly at it.  She saw
Maddie in a cluster of men in suits just inside the glass doors where a
second cameraman would capture her entrance.

   Betsy made it a good one, pushing through the glass revolving door as if
the downpour had never happened.   -�Maddie! -� she cried, giving her air
kisses on both cheeks.  Maddie made introductions and Betsy graciously
shook everyone -(TM)s hands.  Their table was ready and Betsy brushed off
any suggestion that she may want to go to the ladies room or even dry off
with a towel.  She only apologized for being late and encouraged all to sit
and get started. 

   After a little more chatter, the station -(TM)s general manager -- a
portly man in his 50s who introduced himself as  -� -�Chip -� -- got to the
point.   -�Betsy, we've had several segments on you since you arrived in
Kingsley, and in each case our viewers loved you.  You're incredibly
popular. -�

    -�That might only be because I go naked, -� Betsy said modestly,
thinking back to Kate's criticism.   -�I'm sure some people might make the
argument that any reasonably attractive naked girl would be just as
popular. -�

    -�Actually, that's not the case, -� Chip said.   -�Our metrics are
pretty sophisticated, and it's clear that while your nudity is certainly an
initial attention-grabber, focus groups and surveys confirm that viewers
love you for other reasons  -" your personality, your smile, your laugh,
your grace, good humor, your athleticism, and your determination to live
life on your own terms, winter or no winter. -�

   Betsy -(TM)s heart was bursting.  It wasn't just her nudity.  Kate had
just been trying to undermine her confidence.  She had a moment to think as
the waiter brought their lunches.

    -�That's gratifying to hear, -� she said when everyone had been served.
 -�So . . .  what exactly are you proposing? -�

    -�We want you on the Channel 5 team, Betsy.  We understand, of course,
that you're a full-time student and your time is limited, so we're thinking
one or perhaps two appearances a week -- not much different than things
you've already done, but planned instead of impromptu.  The benefit to us
is that we can promote it in advance to increase ratings, and the benefit
to you is that you get paid. -� 

   Getting paid to be naked on TV!  Betsy tried not to show her excitement.
 -�Hmm, -� she said,  -�so what would I be doing -- more weather standups?
-�

    -�Sometimes, but not always weather-related.  It could be at an event
of some kind.  But beyond standups, we'd love to showcase your obvious
athletic abilities.  So far we've seen you rollerblading, running and
skiing -- all of which you do with great skill.  Perhaps more of those when
the weather is better -- water skiing, maybe, or hang-gliding. -�

    -�I can waterski, -� Betsy said,  -�but I've never gone hang-gliding.
-�

    -�That's the beauty of it, Betsy.  We -(TM)d pair you up with a
professional instructor, so it would work whether you're already at an
advanced level or a beginner.  Our options are more limited in winter --
though you've certainly demonstrated you can take the cold.  Still, there
are some interesting indoor options.  Have you ever tried boxing? -�



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 57

    -�Boxing? -� Betsy repeated.   -�Could I really do that for a TV bit?
Um, without getting hurt? -�

    -�We wouldn -(TM)t let you get hurt, Betsy, -� the station manager
assured her.   -�The national women -(TM)s champion lives right here in
Kingsley.  We would just arrange a little training session with her.  It
wouldn -(TM)t be a real fight, of course  -" just her teaching you to spar
a little.  But that was just an idea off the top of my head.  If you -(TM)d
prefer not -" -�

    -�That would be SO much fun! -� Betsy exclaimed, forgetting to play
hard-to-get.   -�I -(TM)d love to do ALL of those things! -�

    -�Splendid! -� he said, sliding a glossy folder to her.   -�Now as to
compensation, here's what we're thinking to start out with, but we
encourage you to engage professional representation to assist in any
longer-term contract.  We want you to be happy. -�

   Betsy did her best to retain a poker face, but it seemed like a lot of
money for doing something really fun on TV -- naked!  Though she'd been on
television several times before, now that she felt so confident in her
nudity, Betsy found the prospect of being seen naked by millions of people
breathtakingly alluring.   -�When do we start? -�

    -�Actually, we could start right now.  Are you willing to do a weather
standup out in this downpour?  We could write you up a little script on the
TelePrompTer so you don't have to wing it live. -�

   Betsy gulped.   -�Live? -� 

    -�Well, perhaps that's starting too-- -�

    -�I'll do it! -�

   After some communication with the production manager back in the studio,
and a quick script Maddie banged out and entered into the prompter, Betsy
was back out in the torrential rain.  She had taken off Tiffany -(TM)s
shoes, but still wore the red bead necklace and had somehow had retained
most of the matching lipstick, though her short hair was plastered to her
skull.  The producer ticked down the seconds and pointed at her.

    -�This is Betsy Andrews with Channel 5, -� she said confidently,
reading the prompter.   -�As you can see, the rain is coming down quite
hard here in downtown Kingsley.  If you live in the eastern suburbs, this
is what you can expect within the hour.  Channel 5 -(TM)s Weather Team says
it -(TM) will pass through quickly, however, and by evening the skies
should be clearing.  Officials advise that you not try to drive in this
weather, but if you must, watch out for flooding. -� That was the extent of
the script.  She was just supposed to say  -�back to you, Jim, -� but on an
impulse she added,  -�as for me, I'm going to frolick. -� Here, she threw
up her arms, faced the sky and danced in a circle before leaning close to
the camera to say,  -�back to you, Jim! -�

    -�And . . .  we -(TM)re out! -� the producer said.  Everyone applauded
Betsy's performance as she stepped out of the rain, shivering a little. 
Though it was a warm day for January, the temperature was not quite 50
degrees.

    -�I don't think many of our viewers will be frolicking in this weather,
-� Chip laughed,  -�but that was a great ad lib.  Welcome to the Channel 5
team, Betsy.  I understand you took the train down here, but we -(TM)re
sending you home in a car.  We -(TM)ll be in touch soon about your next
assignment. -�

   The rain was letting up as a black SUV pulled up under the overhang and
Betsy climbed in back carrying Tiffany's shoes and purse.  The interior was
luxurious, like that of a limousine.  When the driver asked where she
lived, Betsy laughed and told him to just take her towards Avery College.
As they approached, she gave directions to Tiffany -(TM)s building.  Tiff
wasn't home yet so Betsy found a plastic grocery bag and left the shoes,
purse and bead necklace hanging from her apartment doorknob.  Betsy's
tennis shoes, ball cap and purse were locked inside so all she had was her
phone as she walked across campus on a now-mild January afternoon.  A few
sprinkles caressed her skin, but the rain had largely passed.

   Betsy stopped in the middle of the plaza.  Where was she spending the
night?  She had juggled her schedule to stay at Tiffany's the previous
night, but what did that mean for tonight?  Flipping through her phone
messages, she realized she had forgotten to plug this hole.  Shoot.  And
now she saw that her phone was down to one percent power.  Shoot.  Betsy
knew, of course, that any one of her friends would take her in, but she
didn't know who was home.  She started scrolling down her contact list
intending to start making calls when the screen went black.  Shoot.

   The gym wasn't far away so she decided to go to her locker and see how
much of a charge she could get on her phone while she worked out and took a
nice, hot shower.  That was a good plan until she could not find her
charger in her locker and only then remembered it was in her purse in
Tiffany's apartment.  Locking her dead phone in her locker, Betsy ran on
the treadmill until sweat was flying from her body, then rinsed off in the
showers and relaxed a while in the hot tub.  When she climbed out, her body
felt so nice and toasty she ignored the stack of clean towels went straight
to the exit and out into the cool early evening air.  She was dripping wet
and leaving footprints on the sidewalk, but felt warm and happy inside.

   An adventure!  She would have an adventure!  Unburdened by any
possession, she headed off campus and towards the bar district.  She had no
money, but knew she would almost certainly bump into friends who would buy
her food and drinks, and maybe she would pick someone new to sleep with. 
You are such a mooch, Betsy Andrews, she told her reflection in a shop
window as she walked past.  And such a slut, trolling for someone new to
sleep with!  I am a wholesome slut, she corrected the next available shop
window reflection.  It's not like I'm going to have sex with the person I
sleep with, and I'm not a mooch anymore because I have a job! 

   Betsy was literally skipping as she reached the bar district.  Her skin
had dried, but her hair was still dripping on her shoulders and chest as
she walked past  -�Woody -(TM)s Wild Side. -� It was Friday night, so she
knew without looking that Tiffany and Lashona would be there.  She could
crash with either of them tonight if she needed to, but first she wanted to
check out the scene at  -�Zoot -(TM)s, -� the retro swing dance bar. 
Inside, she heard people call her name and waved happily, relishing her
popularity  -" which she now knew was genuine and not just because she was
naked. 

   Heading back to the Omega table, Betsy took note of a couple of girls
she liked but didn -(TM)t know well yet.  She spotted Mandy, who had green
highlights in her blonde hair and multiple piercings on her eyebrows, ears
and nose, and Lia, a tall, lanky girl with lusciously poofy lips.  Either
of them would be fun. 

   The usual Omega men were represented, particularly Charles, the one-time
house butler.   -�Did you come to join the line dance? -� he asked.

    -�Nah, I'm barefoot again and last time I got my toes stepped on doing
that, -� Betsy explained. 

   Charles seemed disappointed, so Betsy added,  -�but actually, I -(TM)ve
noticed what a great dancer you are.  Would you teach me a few of those
fancy moves? -�

    -�Gosh, sure Betsy, -� Charles said, and the two went to the main dance
floor where Betsy -(TM)s toes were relatively safe -- Charles being a very
good dancer.  She was much less experienced, but had a natural ability and
picked up the advanced moves quickly.  Soon, they were cutting quite a rug,
and made a photogenic pair.  Charles was tall and handsome, if in a boyish
way, and wore a flashy retro suit with white dance shoes.  He lifted her
off the ground, swinging her to the left and right with confidence and
ease. Some of the moves required Betsy to spread her legs wide, and all
around them cameras were recording the action.  By the end of the evening,
dozens of new photos and videos would be added to the digital corpus that
tracked the very public life of the Avery College Nudist.  As always, some
photos would be zoomed and cropped to highlight body parts that certain
segments of Betsy's fan base never tired of highlighting.

   By late in the evening, the band was taking a break from its usual bebop
frenzy and was playing slow music.  Betsy and Charles were shuffling a
laconic fox trot in the dim light, her arms around his neck and his hands
on the damp skin of her back. 

    -�I suppose you heard about my big breakup? -� Betsy said.

    -�Yeah, Tiffany mentioned it.  Are you doing okay? -�

    -�I have my good days and bad days.  Today has been a good day. -� 

    -�I -(TM)m glad.  You deserve to be happy, Betsy. -�

    -�But I -(TM)m totally messed up financially, so I -(TM)ve been staying
with friends. -�

    -�Um, yeah, Tiff mentioned that too. -�

    -�I don -(TM)t want to be a burden so I never stay the same place two
nights in a row. -�

    -�I really doubt anyone would mind, Betsy. -�

    -�I just don -(TM)t want to take advantage, and it -(TM)s been so
helpful for my healing process to have friends I can really trust; friends
that I can sleep with platonically with the close physical contact that I
need right now without it becoming sexual.  Does that make sense to you? -�

    -�Um, sure, of course, Betsy.  Your friends just want to do whatever
they can to help you through this. -�

    -�And . . .  and you're my friend too, aren't you? -�



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 58

    -�Of course I -(TM)m your friend, Betsy.  I remember when we met, you
-" -�

    -�So could I sleep with you tonight? -�

   Charles froze on the dance floor, his feet no longer moving as the band
continued its slow-tempo jazz number.   -�Wh -"what did you say? -�

    -�I said may I sleep in your bed with you tonight? -� Betsy repeated. 
-�Platonically, of course.  I'm sorry to ask at the last minute.  I've been
trying to plan this out, but I messed up.  If you don't want to do it I
understand, but I just-- -�

    -�Of c-course I W-WANT to, -� Charles stammered.   -�But . . .  you're
not just . . .  tricking me are you? -�

   Betsy squeezed him tight and whispered in his ear.   -�I would never
EVER do that to you, Charles.  You will be doing me a big favor if you
allow me to sleep in your bed . . .  with you . . .  tonight.  If you say
no, that -(TM)s okay, but I -(TM)ll have to find someone else, and it
-(TM)s so late. -� Here she made a little pouty face.

    -�I . . .  yes, of course, Betsy . . .  but I don't have my own room at
the house.  Reggie and Trevor do because they're upperclassmen, but I'm a
sophomore and we sleep in bunk beds, six guys to a room. -�

    -�Oh, well . . .  do you think your roommates would mind? -�

    -�Of COURSE they wouldn -(TM)t, but -" -�

    -�Is it against the rules?  I don't want to get you in any trouble. -�

    -�I don't think it is. -�

    -�Should I ask Trevor?  He's right over there. -�

    -�Um . . .  well . . .  he does have his own room, so-- -�

    -�No, I mean should I ask him if I can sleep with you? -�

    -�Well, I-- -�

   Not waiting for an answer, Betsy marched over to Trevor and whispered in
his ear for a long while as Charles watched with trepidation.  Trevor
-(TM)s eyes went wide, he whispered something back and then gave a
thumbs-up sign to Charles.

   And so Betsy and Charles left together and walked through the chilly
January night the six blocks to Omega House.  A party was going on there
and Betsy joined into it.  She didn't know most of the boys, but felt a
kinship with them due to her history.  Drinking from an oversized martini
glass, she pretended to adjust her hair in front of the Looking Glass
mirror where she had once masturbated.  Lots of the boys crowded around
her, and she indulged herself in a secret little fantasy in which she did
it again in front of them all. 

   Betsy told them why she was at Omega House that night -- that she'd
broken up with her girlfriend, had money trouble, and was platonically
bunking with closest friends -- like Charles.  She could see that Charles
-(TM) stature had just risen meteorically, and she was glad to have made
that contribution.   -�But I'm kind of embarrassed about being temporarily
homeless, -� she said,  -�so would you promise not to blab that part? -�

   The Omega Men chanted  -�we swear -� in unison.  Betsy loved hearing it,
knowing they took such things seriously.  Around midnight, she hinted she
was ready to turn in, and Charles and all five of his roommates immediately
came to the same decision.  They all went upstairs together to hoots and
catcalls from others at the party who were not lucky enough to be among
Charles -(TM) roommates.

   The room they all shared was crammed with three sets of bunk beds. 
Charles -(TM) bunk was in the middle, and Betsy was relieved to see he had
the bottom because the beds were so narrow she thought she might fall out.

    -�Well, this looks cozy, -� she said, and immediately crawled in.  
-�Do you care what side I'm on? -�

    -�Um, take your pick, -� Charles said.  The back wall of the room was a
wide closet with sliding doors and the six boys began to awkwardly undress.

    -�I'm not looking, -� Betsy announced.   -�I know most people are more
modest than I am. -�

    -�Um, Betsy? -� Charles asked.   -�What should I wear . . .  to sleep
in? -�

    -�What do you normally wear? -�

    -�Just my skivvies. -�

    -�Then wear that.  I don't want you to be different just for me.  Same
for you guys.  Just pretend I'm not here. -�

   That suggestion produced a chorus of laughter.   -�No can do, baby, -�
Derrick said.   -�Nobody can ever pretend you're not around. -�

    -�Well, just be normal please. -�

   Charles appeared at the side of the bed, wearing only his underwear, but
trying to keep one hand in front of his crotch as he slipped under the
sheets beside her.  The bed was so narrow they couldn't have avoided
touching if they tried -- and neither particularly wanted to try.  Charles
made a half-hearted effort, lying on his back with hands at his sides.  She
immediately wrapped her body around his. 

    -�These bunks are so narrow, -� she remarked.   -�I'm going to have to
hold onto you all night to keep from falling off.  Good thing you're not on
top. -�

   This choice of words resulted in some snickering from the other bunks
and one of the boys said,  -�Chuck, is Betsy on top? -�

    -�Oh, you know what I meant, -� she laughed.   -�Boys have such dirty
minds. -� As she said this, she threw her leg casually over Charles -(TM)
body where it briefly came in contact with his bulging erection, with only
the thin fabric of his underwear separating them. 

    -�Oops, -� she giggled,  -�moving her leg down a little.

    -�Sorry, -� he whispered.   -�I can't help it. -�

    -�That's okay, -� she whispered back.   -�I'll take it as a compliment.
-�

    -�There sure is a lot of giggling and whispering down there, -� Derrick
observed. 

    -�If you MUST know, -� Betsy said,  -�we were discussing this gigantic
bump in Charles -(TM) underpants.  It's like the Macy -(TM)s Parade down
here! -� This produced howls of laughter that would have been heard
throughout the house if the party were not still in full swing downstairs.

    -�See what you've been missing out on? -� Derrick said.   -�A lesbian
can't provide you with that. -�

    -�Sure she can, -� Betsy insisted.   -�My ex-girlfriend had one in her
dresser drawer.  It was twice as big -- no offense, Charles --and never
once sheepishly explained that it -(TM)d been under a lot of stress lately.
-�

    -�Ouch, -� Derrick laughed.   -�Very funny, but have you ever
experienced the real thing, Betsy? -� 

    -�Why sir!  What an impertinent question, -� Betsy said haughty,  -�but
no, I have not been so inclined. -�

    -�Well, if you enjoyed that sex toy, you'll like the real thing better
-- even if it is slightly smaller and less reliable. -�

   Betsy gave an exaggerated yawn.   -�All this talk of penises is putting
me to sleep.  Goodnight, boys. -�

    -�Goodnight, Betsy. -�

   Betsy kissed Charles on the cheek.   -�Goodnight, Charles. -�

    -�Goodnight, Betsy, -� he sighed. 

   Betsy wasn't actually very sleepy, but she wanted to be quiet and enjoy
this exciting new experience.  She was in bed with a guy!  She'd shared a
bed with Aaron once, but she'd been so distraught that night, and Aaron
-(TM)s body was not one for which she could feel any attraction.  Charles
was closer to the kind of man she could imagine being with, though still
not among that tiny percentage of Dean-like men who really stirred
something in her.  Joel had been in that club, as was Molly -(TM)s
boyfriend, Jack, whom she'd only met once.  So that meant there were three
guys on the planet Betsy was attracted to, and two of them were dating her
close friends.  Joel was therefore the most guilt-free, so Betsy imagined
he was the one she'd spent the evening with -- his hands gliding up and
down her bare back as they danced.  And he was the one she'd asked to spend
the night with.  And he lived alone!  And when she'd asked him what he wore
to sleep, he'd said he usually slept nude!  And she'd told him that's how
he should sleep with her because she didn't want to be any trouble of
course.  Betsy imagined she was in bed with him now, both of them naked,
both of them still awake, yearning for each other.  Betsy -(TM)s cheek was
on Charles -(TM) -(TM) bare shoulder, her hand resting on his too thin and
nearly hairless chest.  Past her hand, she could see the bulge of his
erection under the sheet.  She knew she could move her hand just a few
inches and touch it if she wanted to.  She was sure Charles would not mind.
But no, she would not do that.  Only imagine it.

   But what if it were Joel?  Or Dean?  Oh yes, what if she were with Dean
right now?  But not like this.  They would be alone in Dean -(TM)s
apartment.  And . .  it wouldn't be now, but over the summer, the day they
went out for drinks after the race . . .  but in this fantasy, Betsy had
already broken up with Kate, or perhaps they'd never been together and
Betsy had come to Huron on her own -- to be naked!  Yes, that's how it
should have been.  While real-life Betsy remained unmoving, fantasy Betsy
reached down and wrapped her hand around Dean -(TM)s sheet-shrouded
erection -- and because real-life Betsy had never done this with any boy,
she had to use her imagination.  How hard would it feel?  Would it be warm?
How would Dean react?  But wait . . .  why were they in bed together in
this fantasy?  Not for the same reason she was with Charles . . .  so there
would have been a scene of passion first.  They would have come to his
apartment from the bar, and would immediately begin kissing right there in
the doorway.  He was shirtless, wearing only those thin white denim shorts,
and of course she was naked, always so naked.  She would have unbuttoned
and unzipped him while they were still standing, and that's when she would
have first felt his erect penis in her hand, and they would have fallen
backwards onto his rumpled bed, and he would be on top of her and she would
feel him entering her.  Though she had never had sex with a man, Betsy had
been on the receiving end of Kate -(TM)s strap-on, and she -(TM)d liked it
-" really, REALLY liked it.  But how would it be different with a man?  For
one thing, he would come eventually, falling exhausted on top of her, both
of them sweaty and spent, having lost themselves in the moment of passion
together.  With Kate, orgasms never happened simultaneously with wild
abandon.  Kate was always calmly in control, always doing things in exactly
the  -�best -� way.  With Dean, Betsy imagined, it would have been crazy
and unchoreographed. 

   But where was Michelle in this fantasy?  She would not have met Dean
yet. Betsy missed those days when she had her little moments with Dean, and
her separate little moments with Michelle.  But both relationships had been
illicit and stunted because Betsy had been stupidly stuck with Kate.  What
if Betsy had been free and strong back then?  She might have flirted with
Dean, but probably not actually gone to bed with him . . .  because . . .
she would have been with Michelle!

   Before she knew it was coming, Betsy sobbed.  She pressed her face into
Charles -(TM) body to muffle the sound as her shoulders shook involuntary
and her tears wetted his skin.  Startled, he put his arm around her
whispering whatever he could think of  -" that it would be okay, and that
it's hard to get over a lost relationship.  Betsy said nothing, unable to
explain how she felt. 

   Realizing that it's services would not be needed, Charles -(TM) penis
stood down from its alert status and retreated to a restless and
ever-vigilant slumber.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 59

   A few days later, Betsy stood outside the campus gym in her tennis shoes
and ball cap, her blue denim purse slung over her shoulder.  A black SUV
with tinted windows pulled up and Betsy climbed in back, the plush leather
seat soft against her bare skin.  She chatted with Vic, the driver, as he
took her to an older part of downtown where a sign over a crumbling brick
building proclaimed,  -�Kingsley Boxing Club. -� Inside, she pretended the
Channel 5 cameraman was not filming her entrance as Maddie McGuire
introduced her to Kimmy  -�Killer -� Kowalski, the women -(TM)s light
heavyweight champion.

   Killer Kowalski was about Betsy -(TM)s height, but weighed at least 30
pounds more -- all of it muscle.  She wore skin-tight shorts and a sports
bra, her brown hair pulled back tight into a braid.

    -�Okay, missy, -� Kimmy said, giving Betsy a wink.   -�You don -(TM)t
look too tough, but I -(TM)m gonna teach you to be a boxer in one week. 
Are you ready to train your naked little butt off? -�

    -�Yeah! -� Betsy growled, making an exaggeratedly tough face.  Feeling
an instant rapport, she held up one fist and added,  -�and don -(TM)t call
me missy. -� Kimmy played right back, pretending she was going to slug
Betsy, who emitted an ultra girlish squeal and ran around the gym with
Kimmy giving chase.  They were friends from that moment on.

   For the next five days, Betsy went to the gym two hours a day for
training, with a camera crew constantly recording the action.  Before even
getting in the ring, Kimmy put Betsy into a grueling training regimen that
included skipping rope and punching the hanging speed bag.  Fortunately,
Betsy was already in great physical condition and had considerable
endurance.  Once she mastered the rhythm of the speed bag, she found it
addicting and didn't want to stop until her arms felt like lead.  She also
learned to skip rope with the super-fast speed of a boxer.  This sent her
smallish breasts in a frenzy.

    -�I think we just found your boxer nickname, -� Killer Kimmy declared.
-�Bouncing Betsy! -�

    -�Hey, I want something meaner than that! -�

    -�Gotta earn it, kid. -�

   The camaraderie between them was natural and the producers were getting
so much good footage, they had plenty to choose from each night to promote
the segment scheduled to air the upcoming weekend.  By their third session
together, Kimmy had Betsy in the ring, teaching her footwork and how to
spar.  Like all physical activities, Betsy picked it up quickly. 

    -�Don't hold back, kid, -� Kimmy assured her.   -�Try your best to nail
me.  I can defend against anything you got, and don't worry about me
damaging that pretty face of yours.  I won't hurt you.  Now, come on and
earn yourself a new nickname, Bouncing Betsy. -�

   That energized Betsy, and she put her all into it -- dancing, weaving
and attacking with a flurry of blows that looked quite impressive while
doing little damage.  Kimmy began calling her  -�Buzzsaw Betsy -� as she
egged on Betsy -(TM)s attacks.

   When the program aired, viewers were treated to shots of a sweat-shiny
Betsy battering the speed bag, jumping rope (close-ups here on the
bouncing), and in the ring with Killer Kowalski, attacking her with a
barrage of blows as the confident champ weathered the attack and landed a
few soft touches on Betsy which could have been knockdowns if she'd been
trying.  To the televised (and online) audience, it looked like a real
fight, though the witty banter between the two women made it clear the
champ was letting Betsy look good in the ring.

   The show set a new record for Channel 5 -(TM)s website.  More
importantly, several days of advance promotion resulted in sky-high ratings
for the news broadcast -- with advertisers bidding against each other for
the limited spots.  For Betsy, it meant a sizable paycheck -- though not as
sizable, Maddie quietly informed her, as it could be in the future if Betsy
had an agent representing her in a longer-term contract.  Even if that were
true, Betsy was not yet sure she would want such a contract.  She didn't
even want the responsibility of having her own apartment quite yet, though
now she could probably afford it.  The only thing she felt certain about
was that she wanted to stay naked. 

   Betsy -(TM)s next TV assignment a few days later was a lot easier.  All
she has to do was interview people standing in line all night outside of
Apple stores waiting to buy the latest watch.  It happened to be one of the
coldest nights of the year, so people were bundled from head to foot, many
with scarves wrapped around their faces so that only their eyes showed. 
Betsy wore only tennis shoes and a Channel 5 ball cap.  She walked up and
down the line interviewing people and shivering with them.  It was bitter
cold, even for her, and Betsy sought shelter in the news van every 15
minutes or so.  After visiting several stores, they went out for a hot
breakfast and then returned to one of the stores at opening time.

   Now, at least, Betsy got to work indoors interviewing the sales staff
and getting a demonstration of the new watch -(TM)s groundbreaking
holographic features.  Billed as the first watch that could truly replace a
laptop, it could project both a virtual screen and an interactive keyboard.
Only slightly larger than a traditional man -(TM)s watch, it had a
retro/steampunk design, was entirely waterproof, and recharged itself with
the wearer -(TM)s motion.

   Though she had tried to remain professionally objective while reporting
the story, Betsy fell in love with the device and wanted to buy one as soon
as the cameras stopped rolling.  Because the watch was so new it was quite
expensive, but they were also offering it on a lease plan.  Although Betsy
now had an income, she found the concept of leasing alluring because she
had the urge to own fewer things, not more.  She signed a contract on the
spot and wore the watch home. 

   That night at Lu Chen -(TM)s, Betsy transferred all of the data from her
phone and tablet to her new watch, and the next day she sold them both. 
The watch also handled purchases, and contained an official digital version
of her Citizen ID card -- which meant she didn't need her purses.  These
she donated to Goodwill, and the next time she spent the night with Molly,
Betsy gave her the mutually beloved Ariel backpack (which Molly immediately
personalized by giving Ariel freckles with an orange sharpie).

   Betsy loved that her new watch was motion-charged, which freed her from
needing a separate charger.  Unfortunately, as all the tech reviews had
pointed out, this was the product -(TM)s weakest feature.  The holographic
features tended to drain the battery faster than it could be recharged
through normal arm movements, so Betsy began wearing it on her ankle to
compensate.  She would take it off when she needed to use it as a laptop or
phone, but for texting or some other quick task, she simply crossed her
legs like a man so that her left ankle rested on her right knee.  This was
convenient and had the additional benefit of requiring her to spread her
leg in a natural and necessary manner.  Betsy would admit to herself, if
not to others, that she enjoyed displaying herself, but she wanted it to
seem unintended and incidental.  If she needed to check the time or glance
at an incoming text when she was in a standing position, she was
sufficiently limber and well-balanced to lift her left foot up to almost
chest level, and then with one hand pull her foot close to her face for a
few seconds to read the screen.  She tended to do this at busy street
corners while waiting for the light to change, and became so practiced at
it that she could do it very quickly.

   Every time she went to her locker, Betsy had the urge to get rid of
something else.  Her watch was leased, and each of her regular bedmates had
by this time provided her with a toothbrush -- which she had not purchased
and did not technically own.  Now that she had an income, Betsy nearly
always showed up at her girlfriends -(TM) places with grocery bags filled
with the exact foods, wines and chocolates that each girl loved.  She also
made it a point to replenish each girl -(TM)s supplies of lotions or hair
care products, which Betsy used, but she made sure she was buying the
precise product the other girl preferred, rather than sneaking in her own
preferred products.  This was, of course, the polite thing to do, but in
Betsy's mind it also meant that the products did not belong to her.

   Along the way, Betsy stopped wearing makeup so she could throw out her
makeup bag.  She had her hair cut short so she didn't need brushes or hair
ties.  She decided she could still use gel and a blow dryer if she had
access to those wherever she was staying, but that she would use no combs
or brushes and only her fingers.  If she showered at the gym, she would
just let her hair dry on its own and do whatever it wanted.

   By mid-February, she was down to little more than footwear and hats. 
She had been saving a pair of sandals and some flip-flops for warmer
weather, but now she saw no purpose for these items to even exist.  Why
would she wear any kind of footwear in warm weather?  It no longer made
sense.  Her last few bits of jewelry had to go also, even though she really
loved some of them.  Once these were all gone, Betsy had only a single pair
of tennis shoes and one ball cap.  These were her most necessary possession
while winter lasted, but she ached to get rid of them too.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 60

   Though it was Betsy -(TM)s first winter in the Kingsley area, she
learned from longtime residents that by the end of February, the worst
would be over.  By early March, snow was typically minimal and a hint of
spring would be in the air.  She had nearly done it!  She had gone through
almost an entire winter totally naked -- never once putting on a coat or
even a sweater!  Betsy had also recently celebrated her six-month
anniversary of continuous nudity (with a big party at Dizzy -(TM)s).  She
no longer considered ever going back to wearing clothing, and was, if fact,
fighting the urge to give up her last pair of shoes to experience what it
would be like to have no possessions at all.  Betsy told herself she would
wait until at least March 1 to do this, but during the third week of
February, a warm front swept through the area and for the next few days,
daytime temperatures hovered enticingly around 50 degrees.  Though she knew
the weather could -- and probably would -- change again, Betsy was finding
it increasingly difficult to resist her obsession. 

   One afternoon during this period, Betsy was wearing all that she owned
-- two shoes and a hat -- when she passed the big clothing donation bin on
the edge of campus.  She knew the bin well, having already fed into it many
of her other possessions.  This time, she tried to walk past it without
leaving an offering, but it called out to her.  She had to give it
something, so she opened the mailbox-like door of the donation bin and put
her hat in it.  She closed the door and opened it again and the hat was
gone, now beyond her reach -- impossible to take back.  But the bin wanted
more.  Her shoes had to be next, she knew.  There was no other way.  It had
to be today.  It had to be now.  Betsy took off her shoes and placed them
carefully on the open door of the bin.  She held it open a moment, sunlight
warming her skin, and then she closed the door and heard the shoes drop
inside the impenetrable metal box.  They were gone beyond retrieval.  She
opened the door again and looked at its emptiness.  Everything she had ever
owned was gone.

   She turned back onto campus heading for her next class, and with each
step Betsy was exquisitely aware of the feel of the pavement beneath her
feet.  She had gone barefoot many times, but now that she HAD to it felt
different.  As she passed other students, Betsy smiled cheerfully as she
always did, watching as so many eyes danced along her body before
connecting briefly with her own eyes, only to dart down again.  This always
happened.  Nothing had changed, except for Betsy -(TM)s own emotions. 
Somehow it all felt fresh and new.  Each time some boy -(TM)s eyes went
between her legs, it seemed like it was happening for the first time.  Her
pussy had been on display for six months, and during that time she had
possessed no article of clothing with which to cover it.  Yet now that she
had discarded her last pair of shoes, she felt more keenly aware of the
rest of her exposure.  Her nearly forgotten feelings of embarrassment
resurfaced in a new and different way, and she reveled in it.  The feeling
was not exactly  -�embarrassment -� anymore, but something similarly
intense.  She didn't want to ruin it by analyzing it too much.

   As thrilling as this was, Betsy did not imagine she would remain
possessionless indefinitely.  It was just an experience she wanted to have
for some little while.  A transition, She knew she would acquire shoes and
hats and jewelry again someday, perhaps after a few weeks or months.  She
would know when it was time.  Betsy felt absolutely certain she would not
go back to wearing clothing, but she would have possessions again, and a
home and . . .  and love.  She would open her heart again to love, like a
flower in spring.  But first, for reasons she did not fully understand, she
felt compelled to have nothing at all and live her life truly naked . . .
until . . .  well, she would know when.

   Betsy -(TM)s next TV assignment was to play basketball with the Apollo
Globetravelers, who were coming to Kingsley Arena for an exhibition game.
Channel 5, which was broadcasting the game, had arranged for Betsy to be
introduced as  -�trying out -� for the team.  She would actually sit on the
bench for most of the game, but would be on the floor a few minutes before
and after station breaks, and perhaps participate in one or two of their
famous trick shots.  The Globetravelers typically spent a week in each city
in advance of the game and often concocted some new bit to involve a local
celebrity -- the specifics of which would depend on that person -(TM)s own
basketball skill level.

   Betsy had played basketball in high school, but hadn't been one of the
stars.  She was a good ball handler, though, and began practicing at the
campus gym as soon as she heard about the assignment.  By the time she had
her first practice with the team, she had shaken the rust off and was ready
to show what she could do, such as it was, Though they had been around the
world, the Apollo Globetravelers hadn't been in a situation quite like this
before.  They were as impressed with her as she was of them, and were put
at ease by her sunny personally and matter-of-factness about her nudity.

    -�Oh, let's all just look at each other for a few minutes, -� she
laughed because she had never been so close to professional basketball
players.  Her brothers were 6 -(TM)4 -� but these guys were even taller,
and exquisitely muscular.  She was particularly amazed by their center,
Jamal Jasper, who was 7 -(TM)1 -� with magnificent dreadlocks, tattoos
covering both arms, and hands so big he held a basketball the way someone
else might hold a softball.  After blatantly checking out each other for a
while, they started playing some basketball.  Betsy showed off her
super-fast dribbling skills.  She was good with both hands and could pass
the ball between her legs and behind her back.  Of course, she was nowhere
near their level, and any of them could have stripped the ball from her,
but they applauded her moves and started showing her their trick passes and
flamboyant plays.

    -�Got any ideas, Betsy? -� one of them asked.   -�Something you always
wished you could do in a regular game? -�

    -�Well, -� she said,  -�I've always wanted to dunk. -�

   Jamal tossed her the basketball and then put his giant hands on her
little waist and effortlessly lifted her off the ground.  He took a few
steps towards the basket and Betsy gleefully slammed the ball in.  When he
let her down, she jumped up and down, happily squealing,  -�I have ALWAYS
wanted to DO that! -�

   The Globetravelers grinned at each other, and one of them said,  -�this
is gonna be a fun week. -�

   They went to work, arranging several plays that would end with Betsy
making a Jamal-assisted dunk.  One play had her start with some fancy
dribbling and go for a layup, leaping towards the basket as Jamal grabbed
her by the rib cage and put her in position to slam down her dunk.  This
took some practice, and sometimes she leaped at the wrong moment and Jamal
had to just catch her without making the play.  Whenever she made the play,
Betsy would grab the rim and swing triumphantly.  It was a long way down so
she only let go when Jamal was there to catch her.  His teammates would
forever envy Jamal -(TM)s good fortune in having his hands on the naked
girl so much, not to mention the view he got each time she dangled from the
rim.  (Decades later, Betsy would get a full chapter in his memoir).

   After the success of her boxing segment, Channel 5 wanted to make the
most of Betsy -(TM)s growing popularity, and scheduled her for a sit-down
with popular talk show host Opal Whitmore, known her probing interviews on
the love lives of celebrities.  Betsy was ready to tell her story, wanting
to be honest with her fans.  She admitted that in fact she had not been
strong or self-confident at the beginning and had initially become a nudist
only to please someone else and out fear she would be abandoned.  She went
on to explain how she had gained confidence and had broken off that
unhealthy relationship over Solstice and had since that time been in a
healthy place, remaining a nudist because of her own desires and not
someone else -(TM)s.  Betsy felt relieved having finally said it all
publicly.  Channel 5 promoted the interview as  -�What a Girl Will Do for
Love: The Shocking True Story of the Avery College Nudist: -�

   In her next practice session with the Globetravelers, they worked on a
new play.  In this one.  Betsy did not have to drive to the basket, but
only run and leap into Jamal -(TM)s arms, catching a pass at the last
moment and slamming it through the rim.  This play was actually a lot
harder than when she dribbled the ball herself,and Betsy missed either the
catch or the basket several times at first.  But she loved the play and
insisted on sticking with it until she had it mastered.

   That night, Betsy was sleeping with Annabelle, who lived the farthest
from campus, and had Vic drive her there.  A true professional, he never
asked why she had so many addresses.  Betsy was exhausted, and Annabelle
was tired from a long day as well.  They climbed in bed together and
immediately fell asleep. 

   In the morning, Betsy shuffled into Annabelle -(TM)s bathroom to pee,
squinting out the little window to see that it had snowed all night, and
was still snowing.  Crap.  She was a mile from campus without shoes.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 61

   Whenever she slept with Annabelle, Betsy always took the bus back to
campus, but the bus stop was five blocks away and there was no shelter
while waiting.  But at least the city -(TM)s mass transit system was
reliable, and Betsy could be reasonably sure the bus would arrive on
schedule. 

   Annabelle herself had no morning classes and was still asleep as Betsy
went about her now-spartan morning routine -- which on this day consisted
of washing her face, brushing her teeth and running her fingers through her
hair.  She planned to shower at the gym after her morning workout.  After
lifting her left foot to check the time, Betsy kissed the still-sleeping
Annabelle on the cheek and let herself out of the apartment.  Since she had
no key, Betsy was once again fully committed, pulling the door shut until
it clicked and stepping out barefoot into the snow. 

   As on most winters days, the air temperature itself was tolerable --
barely cold enough for snow, and there was little wind.  The snowflakes
were fat and fluffy and the busier streets were slushy from the heat of
traffic.  However, none of the sidewalks had yet been cleared so Betsy
jogged through eight inches of wet, heavy snow five blocks to the bus stop,
where she was the only one waiting.  She lifted her left foot to check the
time, and saw that in her eagerness not to miss the bus, she had arrived
four minutes early  -" which meant she had to stand in the snow for four
minutes.  That was okay, she told herself.  Her toes would be complaining
soon, but Betsy now had enough experience to know that no actual harm would
come of such a brief exposure.  Like a seabird, she alternated standing on
one foot at a time as she waited, and soon the bus lumbered up. 

   Because she had been staying with Annabelle once a week all winter,
Betsy had ridden the same morning bus several times.  She always sat on one
of the bench seats facing inward, across from the same regulars who took
the bus every day.  She had learned their names.  Tiny, elderly Mizz
Henrietta worked for the BMV, but always dressed like she was going to
Sunday morning church.  Her pillbox hats with delicate their little veils
had probably been in her closet since the 1960s.  Jonah -(TM)s name was
easy to remember because it was stitched on the breast pocket of his
mechanics -(TM) overalls, and Ty was a pimply teenager in a fast food
uniform.  Betsy gave them a cheery greeting, asked after their families and
joined in on discussion of the weather.  Earlier in the winter, she had
followed weather forecasts religiously, but as her confidence grew and
spring approached, she had paid less attention and was only now learning
that this particular storm was expected to last all day and dump more than
a foot of snow.

    -�Why you not even wearing shoes, child? -� Mizz Henrietta asked.  
-�You used to at least be wearing shoes. -�

    -�I -(TM)ve gotten a little crazier since you saw me last, -� Betsy
explained brightly.   -�Oh, here comes my stop.  Have a good day everyone!
-� As the bus was slowing down, Betsy felt a buzz on her ankle indicating a
text message.  She raised her foot to take a quick glance and saw that it
was from Michelle.

    -�I just watched your Opal interview, -� the text said.   -�You broke
up with Kate two months ago??  Why is your  -~best friend -(TM) just now
learning about this?  Or maybe I -(TM)m not your best friend any more
either. -�

   Betsy was so stunned she was still holding up her foot when the bus came
to a stop -- having provided Jonah and Ty a longer than usual display of
her pink parts. 

    -�Your stop, Betsy, -� the bus driver said over her shoulder. 

   Leaping up, Betsy dashed off the bus and immediately sat down again on a
snow-covered bench in front of a busy coffeehouse.  Crossing her leg again,
she re-read the message and punched out a quick response as snow continued
to fall heavily all around her.   -�Michelle, I am SO sorry I didn't tell
you.  You are still my VERY BEST FRIEND. -�

   The carillon bells were ringing.  Betsy had to run across campus in the
ever-deepening snow to get to her class, and she couldn't be late because
she was making a presentation.  She got to class barely on time, making a
dramatic entrance as she ran in and nearly fell when her wet feet slid on
the marble floor.  To give her presentation, Betsy had to take off her
watch and plug it into the classroom projector.  She was so focused on the
setup that she didn't look up at the big screen until she heard
uncomfortable laughter mixed with awwws of sympathy.  There, for all to see
was her conversation with Michelle -- with a long reply from her saying, 
-�Well that's sure not what it seems like to me!  All this time I -(TM)ve
been writing you long emails and you reply with two lines.  I told myself
it was because of Kate, but apparently she -(TM)s been out of your life
since Solstice and you not only didn't tell me about THAT, but now I
realize I can't even blame her for how you've been treating me. -�

   Had it been any other personal message inappropriate for displaying to
100 random people, Betsy would have instantly clicked it closed, but she
had to read it to the last line.  Tears were running down her cheeks when
she finally closed the window and said to the class,  -�today -(TM)s
presentation is about 15th century provincial literature, of which the most
notable-- -�

    -�Write her back! -� someone yelled.

    -�Write her back! -� another voice called out, and the whole room
joined in the chant.

   Betsy looked at the prof, who said,  -�I think your presentation can
wait a few minutes if you would like to unplug and address this clearly
urgent personal problem first. -�

   Betsy clicked the reply button, not bothering to disconnect the big
screen.   -�Michelle, -� she wrote,  -�The truth is that the biggest regret
of my life is that I didn't break up with Kate the day I met you.  I felt
myself falling for you even then, but I thought I needed to be loyal to
Kate.  I made the wrong choice, and by the time I realized it you were with
Dean, and I didn't want to undermine your relationship by telling you my
true feelings.  But now you are asking for the truth, so this is what it
is. I realize we can no longer have the kind of relationship I SO WISH we
could have, because now you are with someone else, but I hope we can at
least still be friends.  And whatever you may now think of me, you were the
best friend I ever had, and nothing will ever change my mind about that. 
Please forgive me. -�

   Betsy clicked send and and the whole room applauded.  She closed the
application, wiped her eyes and said,  -�now about 15th century provincial
literature. . .   -�

   When her presentation was over, Betsy took questions.  The first few
were about her topic, but then someone asked,  -�did she write back? -� 

   Betsy had already disconnected her watch from the projector and was
holding it in her hand.  She relaunched her messages program.  It only took
a few seconds, but the whole class seemed to hold its collective breath,
watching Betsy -(TM)s face.  Her expression revealed the answer.   -�Not
yet, -� she said, her voice cracking.  She quickly left the room so she did
not have to cry in front of 100 people.

   The snow fell steadily all day, and Betsy walked through it barefoot
without noticing the discomfort.  She was numb, and focused only on her
watch, which she lifted her foot to look at every five minutes.  She
considered moving it to her wrist but didn't want to risk the battery going
dead.  In class she barely paid attention, sitting with her leg crossed so
she could see her watch.  She re-read the exchange a hundred times and
could have recited it from memory.  She told herself Michelle was probably
just in a situation where she could not reply.  It would be past 5 p.m.  in
Italy, but she could be at an important dinner, or in a late class or at
the movies.  Perhaps her phone battery was dead. 

   Betsy was an emotional wreck by the end of her last class, but her day
was far from over.  She walked to the gym where an SUV with the Channel 5
logo on it was waiting to take her downtown.  It was the night of the
Globetravelers game and she would have to pretend to be that happy,
carefree Betsy that everyone loved.

    -�Good evening, Betsy, -� said Vic, the driver, as she climbed snow
covered into the back seat.   -�How ya doing? -�

    -�I'm having a bad day, Vic, -� Betsy said, and burst into tears.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 62

   On the drive downtown, Betsy unloaded everything that she'd kept bottled
up all day, and by the time they got to the arena, she was cried out.  It
would be okay, Vic assured her.  It would be okay.  A retired security
guard who had never married and rarely spoke to anyone but his cat, Vic had
no idea what to say about romantic relationships, especially those
involving naked lesbians.  All he could think of to say was that things
would be okay.  Betsy accepted it as the wisdom of the experienced and
thanked him earnestly as she got out of the car at the arena.

   She was a little early, so she climbed up among the empty seats of the
arena and sat down to write Michelle another message.  She recounted at
some length her memories of the little bits of time they had shared
together, and how she wished it could have been more.  She wrote of her own
evolution during those weeks Kate was away, and that she was so much
stronger and self-confident now.   -�If I could have one selfish wish, -�
she wrote in closing,  -�it would be to have a second chance with you.  But
the most important thing to me is that you are happy -- even if that is
with someone else.  So if all I can have is a small part of your life,
please let me still have that. -� Out of time, Betsy said a little prayer
and clicked the send button. 

   In order for Channel 5 -(TM)s nudist correspondent to  -�suit up -� with
the team, a body paint artist was brought in to put  -�Andrews -� across
her shoulders, and the number  -�0 -� on her chest and back.  When that was
done, Betsy asked her to also paint a fake tattoo on her arm -- a big, red
heart with  -�Michelle -� across it.  By this time, spectators were taking
their seats, and the Globetravelers were out on the floor warming up and
clowning around with the crowd.  Betsy joined them, tossing the ball around
and fast-dribbling around the vastly taller men.  While she was out on the
court, Betsy felt her ankle buzzing and was filled with hope that it was
Michelle.  She would understand now, Betsy told herself, and at least their
friendship would be intact. 

   When they went back to the bench, Betsy immediately crossed her leg to
see several messages, but none from Michelle  -" not yet anyway.  Instead
they were from other friends watching the live pregame show on TV.  More
than one of them informed her that the announcers had spotted her  -�tattoo
-� and were wondering aloud who this  -�Michelle -� might be.  Betsy smiled
at that, hoping Michelle might be watching from Italy, or at least that
someone would text her about it.  As she was reading, a new text came from
Lulu:  -�Do you realize the cameras are zoomed in on you?  The world is
getting a great view of your pink parts!  I bet you're doing that on
purpose, you pervy exhibitionist! -�

   Betsy had not actually been thinking of that at all  -" but now she was.
Yet she was slow to change her posture and kept looking at her phone.  This
was perfect, she realized.  She was accidentally displaying her open pussy
to millions of people, and she did not want to stop.  A wave of erotic
energy swept through her body, making her shiver.  She imagined the camera
zooming in ultra close and the announcers discussing her increasing
wetness. ( -�She's really pumped up for this game, Bill.  It's starting to
drip out!  Can we get in a little closer so all the viewers can see how
turned on Betsy is right now? -�)

   But then she heard the referee -(TM)s shrill whistle and looked up to
see him pointing at her.  Oh no, she'd been caught!  He knew she was doing
it on purpose!  The whole world would know she was a pervy exhibitionist.
Feeling her face go hot, Betsy moved her foot to the floor and put her
knees together, but the ref kept whistling and pointing at her.  He was
walking towards her. 

    -�No electronic communication devices permitted on the bench, -� he
said.   -�You need to go stow that watch in a locker. -�

    -�Oh! -� she exclaimed.   -�Right!  Sorry! -� Leaping up, Betsy hurried
off the court, smiling apologetically to the camera.  In the locker room,
she had a nearly irresistible urge to masturbate.  The initial awareness of
her exposure had been sexy enough, but when she thought she'd been caught,
the sense of embarrassment had been beyond anything she'd ever even
imagined.  As aroused as she felt, Betsy did not want to risk masturbating.
There were too many cameras and microphones.  She assumed the locker room
would be safe, but how could one be sure?  ( -�Let's check on Betsy in the
locker room, Bill.  She's really going at it.  Look at that technique! -�)

   Deciding to only grab a wad of toilet paper to dry herself off a bit,
Betsy took off her watch and started putting it in a locker, it buzzed
again with three new messages.  Two were from Lulu teasing her about her
perviness, but the third was from Michelle!  Holding her breath, Betsy
clicked it open.  It was a single line saying,  -�I don't have time to read
your long message right now. -�

   Betsy read it again, confused.  She'd been prepared for Michelle to say
she was still angry, or that she didn't share Betsy -(TM)s feelings . . .
but not even to have read the message?  True, it was eight or nine
paragraphs, but surely she could spare the five minutes required to read
it. This was . . .  a complete rejection.  She was saying: I don't even
care enough about you to read your love letter!  Betsy felt dizzy.  She
closed the locker door and staggered towards the sink where she vomited. 

   The arena -(TM)s PA system was piped into speakers in the locker room,
so Betsy could hear they were beginning the team introductions.  She knew
she would be last, but even so she had only seconds to pull herself
together and get out there.  She rinsed her mouth, splashed water on her
face and tried to decide whether to quickly wash off the stupid, pointless,
idiotic tattoo.  But no, there was no time, and people had already noticed
it so removing it now would attract even more attention to it.  And besides
. . .  it was still true.  She loved Michelle even if Michelle did not love
her back.  Betsy ran up the ramp just as they were introducing her.

    -�And, number zero, trying out for the Apollo Globetravelers tonight,
the newest addition to the Channel 5 news team, Kingsley -(TM)s very own
BETsy ANNNNdreeeeewwws! -� The local crowd whooped and cheered as Betsy ran
out on the floor with her game face on and nothing else.

   The game went as planned, with the flamboyant Globetravelers scoring at
will and performing their many elaborate trick plays.  Betsy ended up with
more floor time than planned, and earned thunderous applause each time she
slammed down a dunk with Jamal -(TM)s flawless assistance.  Despite her
internal distress and sadness, Betsy found herself caught up in the
performance and buoyed by the supportive crowd.  Her teammates kept feeding
her the ball and the opposing players (themselves part of the
Globetravelers organization) made her look good by letting her dribble
circles around them on her way to another dunk.  Betsy got so sweaty, Jamal
had a harder time keeping a grip on her and twice she slipped through his
big hands and slammed into his face.  He would later admit, in his
autobiography, that only one of those had been accidental.

   When the game was over, Betsy was interviewed by Maddie, who pressed her
on the identity on the mysterious  -�Michelle. -� Betsy did her best to be
coy and playful, but she knew she could only keep her game face intact for
so long -- especially given the subject matter.  Unfortunately, Maddie
wouldn't let it rest -- wanting to know if this Michelle might be wearing a
matching tattoo with  -�Betsy -� written inside.  The question caught Betsy
off guard and her eyes welled up as she whispered,  -�probably not. -�
Finally taking the hint, Maddie switched to a basketball question, which
Betsy answered with false cheer as viewers saw her hastily brush away a
tear.

   As soon as she could break away, Betsy went down to the locker room to
retrieve her watch.  She had dozens of messages, but nothing new from
Michelle, who presumably STILL did not have five minutes to spare for the
drudgery of reading Betsy -(TM)s love letter.  Jamal and the guys came down
to the locker room and she stayed out of the showers to give them privacy,
and instead washed herself at the sinks, using wet paper towels to remove
the body paint and perspiration.  She watched in the mirror as the smudged
remains of her heart tattoo came off.

    -�Stupid idea, -� she muttered to herself.



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 63

   Soon the guys were at their lockers getting dressed in expensive suits
and diamond jewelry.  Betsy tried not to watch them dress, but stole a peek
at Jamal putting on his underwear to see if it was true what they said
about men -(TM)s hands.  (It was!) Although she didn -(TM)t really feel
like socializing that night, Betsy decided not to decline when the guys
invited her to come with them to a trendy hip-hop club downtown.  They had
become friends during the week and now the guys were moving on to a
different city and Betsy didn -(TM)t know when she -(TM)d see them again.
She was getting tired of not seeing people again, so she joined them. 
Channel 5 provided the cars and drivers and the group stepped out of the
cars in front of the club to the flash of photography.  Channel 5 was, of
course, filming it also.

   The club was the hottest place in town and a long line of people waited,
trying to get in, while Betsy and the Globetravelers were ushered like
royalty through a side door for VIPs.  Inside, they danced and sat together
in a plush round booth where they talked and laughed about their time
together.  When it was time to say goodbye, Betsy hugged them all.  They
all had to bend down for her and Jamal just picked her up since he -(TM)d
been doing that all week. 

   Throughout the evening, Betsy would feel buzzing at her ankle and would
periodically take a quick peek at her watch.  All of her friends were
making comments about her basketball performance, and sending around still
images and video snippets of her dunking the ball.  She showed these to
Jamal and the guys and they all laughed together at how well the stunt had
worked out.  Another popular image going around was of Betsy on the bench,
her left leg bent so she could see her watch (thereby exposing herself to
the TV cameras) and the stricken look on her face when the ref started
whistling at her.  Betsy was relieved that none of the commenters guessed
she had been exposing herself intentionally.  Still others were sending
around photos of the fake tattoo, with celebratory comments about what they
assumed was a change in Betsy -(TM)s relationship status.  It made her
stomach hurt to think about how to even respond to those comments.  Every
time she felt a buzz Betsy felt sure this time it was Michelle . . .  only
it never was.  Betsy managed to mask her anguish until at last she was
alone in the Channel 5 car with Vic.  On the ride back to Avery, she poured
out her heard to the taciturn driver who again felt way out his depth in
providing any kind of romantic advice.  About all he could think of to say
was  -�it -(TM)ll be okay -�  -" though later that night he would discuss
it at length with his cat.

   The snow had stopped earlier in the evening and by the time Vic left her
off in front of Tiffany -(TM)s, Betsy was walking in a misty fog.  The
temperature had risen considerably and she felt a hint of Spring in the
air. Tiff was out of town, but had given Betsy the keypad code to stay
there anyway.  It would be the first night since her breakup with Kate that
Betsy would sleep alone, but somehow that felt appropriate. 

   In the morning, she woke alone in Tiffany's bed, and immediately
scrolled through dozens of new messages  -" none of them from Michelle. 
Betsy felt sad but did not allow herself to shed fresh tears.  Perhaps it
was time for her to be on her own and not need anyone.  Through everything
that had happened the past few months, Betsy had clung to a fantasy that
someday she would be with Michelle, but apparently that was never going to
happen.  Betsy could accept that, but she could not bear to imagine that
they would stop being friends  -" and she assured herself that surely this
would not happen Michelle might still be mad at her, Betsy supposed, but
more likely she was taken aback by Betsy -(TM)s sudden profession of love
and didn -(TM)t know how to respond.  She was with Dean now, and she -(TM)d
had a boyfriend when Betsy first met her.  She was probably like Lulu  -"
bi enough to want to fool around a little with her girlfriends, but not
interested in an actual lesbian romance.  So Michelle -(TM)s silence might
simply be because she didn -(TM)t know how to break it to Betsy that she
wasn -(TM)t interested in her that way. 

   After showering and indulging in some of Tiffany -(TM)s ultra-girly
skincare products, Betsy left the apartment smelling frilly and made her
way through Avery -(TM)s little downtown towards campus.  The temperature
had continued to rise overnight and the electronic sign at the bank said it
was 69 degrees.  It felt like Spring even though giant mounds of melting
snow were still heaped up wherever the snow plows had left them.  As
always, Betsy looked in the shop windows as she passed  -" partly to watch
her own reflection  -" and she paused in front of a little jewelry store.
Being utterly possessionless was starting to get old and Betsy was thinking
about perhaps owning a small bit of jewelry again.  Pushing open the door
to the shop jangled the bells hanging from it and the sales clerk smiled at
her. 

    -�I -(TM)ve seen you passing by before, -� she said.   -�I -(TM)m glad
you decided to come in.  What can I show you? -�

    -�I saw something in the window, -� Betsy said, and together they went
to retrieve it  -" a silver ring adorned with an abstract heart. 

    -�Is this for someone special? -� the woman asked.

    -�In a manner of speaking, -� Betsy replied, trying the ring on several
different fingers until she found where it fit.  The clerk rang up the sale
and Betsy raised her left foot up to the counter to ping the transaction.
Then she was out the jangling door again and back on her way, holding her
right hand out to look at her new possession in the sunlight.  The heart
shape would be a good reminder that Betsy was the guardian of her own
heart. She would open her heart to love and relationships  -" and sometimes
those would not work out and her heart would hurt, but it would always
heal. Betsy felt strong on her own and was determined to experience life
without fear, and no matter what happened her heart could take it.

   On campus, the melting snow had flooded many of the lawns ankle deep,
but it was bathwater-warm from the sun and Betsy enjoyed splashing through
it, knowing that her indestructible watch could handle it.  Having gotten
to campus a little early, she found a park bench and sat down, the wood
nicely sun-warmed beneath her bottom.  She was proud of how well she -(TM)d
handled her first naked winter, but was really looking forward to warm
weather for a change.  Draping her arms over the back of the bench, Betsy
leaned her head back and let the sun fall on her face.  Her watch buzzed
again and she ignored it until a cloud passed in front of the sun. 
Crossing her leg, she looked at the watch . . .  and saw Michelle's name.

    -�Hi, -� was all it said. 

   Betsy sat up straight and stared at the little screen with its
inscrutable, two-character message.

    -�Hi, -� she tentatively replied.

    -�I apologize for the long delay in replying to you, and for the
abruptness of my last message.  I was unable to use my phone most of
yesterday. -�

   That seemed like an insufficient explanation, but Betsy just replied, 
-�ok. -�

    -�After reading the things that you said, I feel the need to explain my
own feelings.  There's something I'd like to give you that might help. 
It's in my cubicle at the Art Building.  Would it be convenient for you to
go over there and get it before we continue this conversation? -�

   Despite her feelings of self-confidence a few minutes earlier, Betsy
started crying.  Michelle was being so formal and distant.  She was saying
goodbye.   -�Can't you just tell me? -� Betsy typed, tears running down her
cheeks.

    -�It would be better if you would accept my gift -- if only for old
time -(TM)s sake. -�

   A sob escaped Betsy's throat, and she tried to hide her tears because
she was in public and no doubt being watched by someone.   -�Okay, -� she
replied, slipping the watch off her ankle so she could text and walk at the
same time.  She was very close to the Art Building as it was.   -�I'm
heading over there now.  Where is it in your cubicle? -�

    -�In my hammock. -�

    -�Can you at least described it? -�

    -�Actually, I have to hang up for now, Betsy.  We can talk later after
you have your gift. -�

   Betsy panicked.   -�Michelle, please don't push me out of your life.  I
don't want a goodbye gift.  I love you so much.  I'm so sorry for all the
things I did wrong.  I can't stand the thought of losing you.  Please. -�

    -�I love you too, Betsy.  I thought you knew that. -�

   Betsy stopped, wanting to read those words all by themselves and not
part of this painful conversation.  Then she replied,  -�I hope you -(TM)re
not saying you love me in a people-who-used-to-be-friends kind of way. -�

    -�No, Betsy.  I -(TM)m saying I love you in a passionately romantic,
holding-hands-til-we-die, rolling-off-the-bed-having-sex kind of way. -�

    -�What?  You do?  Really?? -�

    -�I'm hanging up now.  Go get your present before she gets impatient.
-�

    -�She? -�



   What a Girl Will Do for Love, Part 64

   Betsy started to run.  She was close to the Art Building already, and as
she crested the hill she could see it across a grassy, flooded lawn.  The
main door flew open, and a naked girl stepped out.  Michelle!  Betsy ran
splashing through the flooded lawn, screaming for Michelle, who started
running also.  Her dark hair flowed behind her like a horse -(TM)s mane and
her pale skin glowed white in the spring sunshine.  The two naked girls
came together in a whirling embrace that threw them both off balance and
sent them tumbling together into six inches of pooled water warmed by the
sun.  Their mouths found each other and they kissed as they rolled to a
stop.

   Betsy cradled Michelle -(TM)s face in her hands, barely able to believe
it, but there in front of her were those crystal blue eyes and and those
adorable freckles scattered across that beautiful upturned nose.   -�How
can you be here? -� she exclaimed.

    -�They have these things called airplanes now, -� Michelle laughed,
displaying her dimples.   -�That's why I couldn't use my phone most of
yesterday.  They made me turn it off on the stupid plane. -�

    -�I thought you were mad at me. -�

    -�I was  -" until you said you wanted to be my girlfriend, -� Michelle
said, as she began peppering Betsy -(TM)s face and neck with kisses.  
-�You -(TM)d better have meant that. -�

    -�I did! -� Betsy giggled, trying to protect her ticklish neck.   -�So
are those girlfriend kisses now?  They seem just like the  -~friendship
-(TM) kisses you used to give me. -�

    -�There -(TM)s an important distinction, -� Michelle explained.  
-�Allow me to demonstrate. -� She kissed Betsy again, but this time also
put her hand between Betsy -(TM) legs, finding her clitoris as they kissed.
 -�Did you notice a difference? -� she asked afterwards.   -�It's subtle.
-�

    -�Let me try, -� Betsy said, and the girls wasted no more time on
banter because their mouths and fingers were too busy.  It did not take
long before Betsy gasped, having had one of her quick little orgasms. 

    -�Oh my god, did you just come? -� Michelle laughed.   -�You are SO
easy! -�

    -�I'm just getting started, amateur, -� Betsy said, pushing Michelle
onto her back and straddling her.  Mouths locked together, they rolled and
splashed in the sun-warmed water.  Both girls competed to be on top,
sometimes resorting to tickling to gain the advantage.  Michelle made a
quick move as they rolled, and before Betsy realized it, Michelle had
turned her body so they were kissing upside down as Michelle leaned her
weight on Betsy -(TM)s shoulders to keep her pinned on her back, water
lapping at her ears.  Betsy remembered the move, but this time she wasn't
going fight it.

    -�You don't need to hold me down, -� she said, caressing Michelle
-(TM)s upside-down face as they kissed, and letting her legs fall open.  
-�Come and get me. -�

   They kissed each other -(TM)s faces and necks and chests and underarms,
moving on together until their mouths were at each other -(TM)s breasts,
their fingers between each other -(TM)s legs.  All four nipples experienced
lavishly prodigious sucking before the girls mouths moved on, counting down
ribs and dwelling on belly buttons.  The rest of the journey went in
micro-progression as each taste of skin and scent of womanhood was savored.
Still on her back, her hair floating in water, Betsy leaned her head back
against the soft wet earth as Michelle's hairless pussy passed over her
eyes, and gasped when Michelle's lips found her own clitoris.  Her hands on
Michelle's butt cheeks, Betsy pressed her face into the warm wetness above
her and made love using her nose and chin and lips, thinking no conscious
thoughts because that part of her brain was no longer functioning.  Her
body and Michelle's had become one, fused together mouth to vagina, arms
wrapped tightly around each other's waists as they thrashed and rolled like
a creature with four legs.

   Neither could have said how long this went on (though a video later
posted to the Internet would clock them at seven minutes and 27 seconds).
When it was over, the exhausted girls lay sprawled in the water, their
sweaty limbs still entwined, heads resting on each other's thighs.  Betsy
-(TM)s mind had regained sufficient self-awareness for her to worry that
they might have been seen, and she was just starting to sit up to look
around when the cheering and applause began.  There, on the roof of the Art
Building, more than a dozen of Michelle -(TM)s classmates were watching
them -- nearly all of them with phones or cameras in their hands. 

    -�Crap, -� Betsy said.

    -�Hi everybody! -� Michelle called out, jumping to her feet and
waving. 

    -�I hope you're ready to be famous, -� Betsy said, standing up as water
rolled down her body.

   Michelle performed a deep bow to their audience like a performer on
stage.   -�Famous for being your girlfriend?  You bet I am. -� Grabbing
Betsy -(TM)s hand, she led them both in another deep bow to more applause.
Though she was embarrassed at having been caught having sex, Betsy went
along with it, enchanted by the moment and overwhelmed with happiness that
Michelle had come back to her.  But now something else was entering her
mind.

    -�Encore! -� someone shouted.

    -�Show -(TM)s over! -� Michelle called back.   -�For now. -�

   Everything had happened so fast, Betsy had barely had time to digest it.
 -�Michelle, -� she said.   -�What about Dean?  Is he still in Italy? -�

    -�No, he came back with me last night.  Oh, that reminds me -- I told
him we'd meet him in the plaza.  C -(TM)mon.  He's dying to see you. -�

   Pulling Betsy by the hand, Michelle started off across the swampy grass
towards the plaza.   -�Wait, -� Betsy said.   -�Don't you need to put on
one of your skimpy outfits first? -�

    -�No, I do NOT, -� Michelle announced importantly,  -�because I am now
officially a nudist!  I registered online while we were waiting on our
flight, and took off my clothes on the plane as soon as we were in Huron
airspace.  I got applause then too. -�

    -�Oh, Michelle!  That's wonderful!  Congratulations on being Kingsley
-(TM)s second nudist. -�

    -�Thank you, but I think I might be third.  We got in really late last
night and were taking a cab in from the airport about the time the bars
were closing.  We saw a naked girl wearing a backpack like yours and I
thought it was you at first, but it was some chick with red hair. -�

   Betsy chuckled, but then turned serious.   -�So . . .  did you break up
with Dean?  Is he okay? -�

    -�What?  No, there was nothing to break.  We're not a couple. -�

    -�But I thought-- -�

    -�We sort of were for a little while.  We hit it off big-time at your
party, but on our first actual date he confessed that he was in love with
you. -�

    -�He said that? -�

    -�I believe his exact words were  -~I -(TM)m hopelessly in love with
Betsy. -(TM) And I said to him, well get in line, because I am too!  So we
discovered we had something in common.  We both loved you and we both felt
rejected because you chose Kate over either of us. -�

    -�I so regret that. -�

    -�Well, you -(TM)re making up for it pretty good right now.  Dean and I
had a lot of fun together, but as romantic couples go, we were pretty
pathetic because all we could talk about was you.  We had our best sex
whenever a new video of you would hit the Internet, and that -(TM)s
probably not a good foundation for a relationship.  Oh look, there he is
now. -�

   They had reached the edge of the sun-drenched plaza, on the opposite
side of which Dean stood looking at his phone.  He was wearing shorts and a
sleeveless tshirt that showed off his muscular arms and broad shoulders. 
Sunlight reflecting off a large snow mound behind him seemed to make his
body glow.  Betsy gasped, not quite having prepared herself to see him
again.

    -�Ooh, are those sparks coming out of you? -� Michelle asked, laughing.
 -�I happen to know he has sparks for you too.  He told me so, like, a
million times. -�

   Betsy was confused.   -�But I . . .  I'm in a relationship with you now.
Aren't I? -�

    -�Damn right you are -- so no other girls for you -- but Dean -(TM)s
not a girl.  He has one of those penis things you may have heard about. -�

    -�Michelle!  Are you talking about a three-way? -�

    -�Nah, those are kinda awkward and not nearly as much fun as people
think they will be. -�

    -�Well it sounded like-- -�

    -�So we could just take turns. -�

    -�Michelle!! -�

    -�Well, you're the one who brought up sex.  I was just talking about
love, or sparks, or whatever it is that -(TM)s going on between you two.
-� 

    -�You mentioned his penis. -�

    -�For categorization purposes.  The point is, he cares about you, and
you care about him, and I absolutely adore you both.  We -(TM)ll work out
the details as we go along.  You have a big heart, Betsy.  Isn -(TM)t there
-(TM)s room for both of us in there? -�

   Betsy looked down at her ring, and back up and Michelle, smiling as
tears of joy ran down her cheeks.   -�I do have . . .  feelings for him. -�

    -�Good.  So do I.  Now go kiss him or something. -�

    -�And you won -(TM)t go away? -�

    -�Never EVER again.  I -(TM)ll be right behind you -- watching your
cute butt. -�

   Betsy grinned and broke into a run just as the carillon bells began to
peal.  Dean was frowning at his phone and oblivious to her approach until
she yelled,  -�you better catch me! -� He looked up and Betsy saw his
expression change from worry to delight, like a little boy who just got an
unexpectedly wonderful present for his birthday.  She knew in that instant
that she loved him.  Her heart was full -- she could love them both.  It
was okay to love them both!

   Dean had just enough time to put his phone in his pocket and set his
feet before Betsy leaped, legs spread to wrap around his waist.  This time,
he had nothing solid behind him, and Betsy -(TM)s momentum knocked him off
his feet.  She had her arms around his neck and her lips locked on his as
their airborne bodies plowed into the mound of wet snow behind him.

   Michelle had been trotting slowly across the plaza, but when she saw
them disappear into the snow, she squealed a laugh and quickened her pace.
She could see their feet sticking out of an igloo-like snow cave inside of
which Betsy sat on top of Dean, straddling him.  Deciding there might be
room for three in there, Michelle leaped, expanding the opening, and landed
in the slushy snow beside them.  This new disturbance was too much for the
impromptu igloo -(TM)s precariously unplanned architecture, and it
collapsed, covering all three of them in several inches of snow. 

   Students crisscrossed the plaza as the carillon bells continued to ring,
signaling change as they aways did.  No one noticed one of the snow mounds
was moving, nor did they hear the voices coming from it. 

    -�Okay, now I'm getting cold. -�

    -�You have to get up before I can. -�

    -�Ow!  Whose elbow was that? -�
   The End