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Rachel Sanders sat quietly outside the Principal’s office. Her face was a mixture of resentment and shame. She knew she was going to be expelled; there was no way about it. How could she not after the stunt she pulled? Sitting there, dressed solely in a robe forced upon her by the only female gym coach in the school, she felt the loneliest girl in the High School. This morning, the stunt seemed so worthwhile. Now, she couldn’t believe she had even thought of it.
Streaking! And in my own High School, too!? What will mom think?!
In hindsight, she should’ve thought about the idea beforehand. Her body was nothing to look twice at. She was short, at five feet nothing, and her body had only just started developing breasts and hips. Her vision was poor, forcing her parents to invest in a set of bottlecap-shaped glasses. Worst of all, acne had covered both of her cheeks, and her teeth had a shiny set of braces. It seemed that puberty had tattooed the word “nerd” on her forehead. The only thing, and really it was the only thing, about her body that Rachel enjoyed was her rich and long brunette hair tied into two pigtails that extended down towards her breasts.
Her head was down, allowing what wasn’t tied into the pigtails to hide her face. The rest of the school’s crowd had latched onto her pitiful physical appearance. Every day, the popular girls picked on her: putting gum in her hair, slamming her into lockers as she walked the halls, ripping up her notebooks, and, worst of all, attacking her with constant verbal assaults. The boys were no better. None of them even glanced at her. And when they did, they only wanted to copy her homework. As a result, Rachel had few friends and even fewer prospects.
Finally, three months into her junior year, she had had enough. She tried to report the bullies, but nothing ever stuck. Worse, it only led the bullies to increase their attacks. Putting makeup on her clothes, attacking her shirts or skirts with scissors, or the tried-and-true gum technique. And nothing seemed to ebb the bullying. Fed up and needing to make a statement to get everyone off her, Rachel thought of the craziest idea. She wasn’t sure now where the idea came from, but from the moment it entered her head, Rachel Sanders committed herself to it.
That idea led her to streak through school. She wasn’t going to try anything too lecherous, but she planned to show these bully girls that she wasn’t the dweeby nerd they proclaimed her to be. So she showed up at school and attended her first class, the one with the bullies, in her best birthday suit. And that…that didn’t go over well at all.
So here she was, wrapped in a robe, sitting outside the Principal’s office, staring the threat of being expelled right in the face. Rachel wanted to cry. But the shame was too great. People passed her, mostly office workers, though there were the occasional students. None of them looked at her. Though Rachel always wondered what they would say or think of her. What would her mother think?
Finally, her silent shame was interrupted when the Principal’s door opened. There he stood, looking down at her with an unreadable expression.
“Come on in, Ms. Sanders,” He said evenly.
Rachel nodded, stood up, and entered. He ushered her to an open seat on the opposite side of his desk. However, they were not the only two people present in the room. Another person was there, and shockingly, it was a teacher: Mrs. Bucciarelli, the eighth-grade Home Economics Professor. Rachel did not have her this year, as she was in her Junior year. However, Rachel was a classmate of Mrs. Bucciarelli’s daughter, Amy. They were not friends, but not enemies either. Rachel was aware that Amy had also been picked on, but they always had different schedules. So they never really interacted.
For her part, Mrs. Bucciarelli had her arms crossed and a serious expression on her face, almost as if she was unhappy over something. Immediately as Rachel sat down, Mrs. Bucciarelli’s expression softened, if nothing else, to make Rachel feel more comfortable.
“So, Ms. Sanders, will you explain to us, please, why you’re here today?” the Principal asked.
Rachel’s throat and mouth went dry. She didn’t know where to begin. But after a moment of awkward silence, she began to recount her reasoning. As the words left her mouth, they sounded hollow and shallow. All of her shame, doubts, and insecurities made Rachel fumble her words. She told the same sentence at least four times before she finally got it right. Mrs. Bucciarelli and the Principal remained quiet throughout, their eyes never leaving Rachel. Thankfully, the robe held tight to her body, and their gaze was always respectful. When she finished, a long and pregnant pause hung in the air.
The first person to speak was Mrs. Bucciarelli: “Well then, Mr. Stephens, are you satisfied?”
“I understand the concerns,” The Principal answered, “However, Barbra, before we can address the root of this problem, you must understand what Ms. Sanders has done…”
“Would not have been done had she not felt there was no other way to put these bullies behind her.” Mrs. Bucciarelli interrupted.
The Principal glared at Mrs. Bucciarelli before he took in a deep breath of air through his nostrils. After a moment, his gaze turned back to Rachel, “Surely you’re not defending her actions?”
“Of course not,” Mrs. Bucciarelli answered, “But she has my sympathies. I would also like to remind you of…”
“Yes! I am aware of the sizable donation that will be provided by…that company,” he sniffed.
Rachel, once filled with shame and regret, was now more confused than ever. They were talking about her, in front of her, and with her sitting there with only a robe on. Suddenly, she had never felt so small. A few more exchanges occurred between the two adults before attention was finally returned to Rachel.
“Well…Ms. “Sanders,” The Principal said with an exasperated tone, “We will conduct a thorough investigation into these miscreants and ensure they are punished for their acts against you.” However, I cannot allow your actions to slip by unpunished.”
“Yes, sir,” Rachel squeaked.
“As such, for the next week, I am assigning you detention under Mrs. Bucciarelli.” The Principal said, now more evenly.
Rachel turned to Mrs. Bucciarelli, “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t worry,” She smiled, “I won’t make you do anything demeaning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Rachel squeaked.
A moment later, the meeting was adjourned, and Mrs. Bucciarelli led Rachel out of the office. Rachel was stunned. She had expected to get expelled. She had gotten off with detention. What organization, or rather company, had the power to ensure that? And why was Mrs. Bucciarelli her biggest defender? Was it simply because her own daughter was a victim of bullying?
“Thank you…Mrs. Bucciarelli.” Rachel managed to say through a small voice.
“Oh, don’t worry, Rachel, you’ve got a friend in me. Uh, before we get you back to class, did you bring any clothes with you?” Mrs. Bucciarelli asked.
“Uhhh….no…” Rachel blushed.
“Right,” Mrs. Bucciarelli answered nonchalantly, “Let’s go find Amy, I think you’re just in her size.”
“Okay,” Rachel responded.
“And when we get you dressed, we’ll talk about what you’re gonna be doing tonight.” Mrs. Bucciarelli responded.
Later that night, Rachel took a deep breath as she arrived at the cafeteria. Thankfully, Amy did have a spare set of clothing. However, it was a bit loose-fitting on Rachel. When she arrived, Barbra Bucciarelli was there waiting for her, dressed in plain clothes. This shocked Rachel, as she wasn’t sure when the teacher would have time to change from formal wear to casual wear. She seemed far more relaxed now that she was in casual clothing, though Rachel noticed the clothes were resting just as loosely on her as Amy’s clothes were on Rachel.
Walking into the cafeteria, Rachel surveyed the scene. The cleanup wasn’t too bad; only a few sets of chairs and five tables were left. Probably the part of the cleanup that would take the longest was sweeping and mopping the floor. Barbra was already at work, taking up one of the small tables teachers used to supervise as she pulled out some papers. Although Rachel immediately noticed, all the papers had been graded.
“Just brought these to give anyone passing by the sense I was grading.” Barbra smiled.
“Oh, uh, okay, should I get started?” Rachel asked.
“If you’d like, we’ve got three hours.” Barbra chuckled.
Rachel grimaced but nodded. In no time at all, she was at work, folding chairs up and putting them away so that she could have a free floor to clean. A half hour of silence passed between the duo before Barbra broke the silence.
“So, are you planning on doing it again?” Barbra asked, her tone very nonchalant.
Rachel’s ears perked up; she wasn’t expecting that question. But as she thought about it, her mind tracked back to her streak. There was something within her she couldn’t quite pin down. Something…
“No,” she lied, “I don’t think it’s for me.”
“Well, that’s the correct answer, especially for a teacher.” Barbra responded, “But I am also a mother, and I can sense a lie when it’s given.”
Rachel blushed, “I…I don’t know…I know I shouldn’t, but.”
“Correct, you shouldn’t. Cuz you didn’t do it for the right reasons.” Barbra responded.
“The right reasons?” Rachel parroted, “You mean…?”
“No,” Barbra laughed, “I don’t mean that you can walk around school all buffed out like you were.”
“Then I’m confused,” Rachel asked, “Cuz it seems to me like you’re saying that nudity isn’t a bad thing.”
Barbra waved for Rachel to join her. Rachel decided that she could use a break, nodded, put down the chair she was folding, and walked over to the desk. After realizing she needed a chair, she went back over, picked it up, and soon joined Barbra.
Barbra smiled a motherly smile as she looked at Rachel, “So tell me, why did you streak?”
“I thought I did tell you,” Rachel asked, tilting her head.
“You did, I want you to repeat it now,” Barbra responded evenly.
Rachel paused, “I…I did it to get back at the bullies. They kept calling me ugly, a dweeb, and…”
“And why did you think that you were?” Barbra asked.
“Cuz…” Rachel started.
“Because you believed them, didn’t you?” Barbra asked again.
Rachel nodded, “You read minds or something?”
“Nah,” Barbra smiled, “Amy’s gone through the same problems. But she found a way to get through all that. Now it’s your turn.”
“Well, how?” Rachel asked, “And what did you mean by I didn’t do it the right way?”
Barbra snorted, “Well, let me answer your second question first. You put yourself on display. You wanted everyone to see your body, and you wanted to prove them wrong because you weren’t sure. And therefore, when you’d prove them wrong, you’d prove your own doubts wrong.”
Rachel nodded. She hadn’t considered that. Of course, it made sense; she wanted revenge. She wanted justification. She wasn’t a dork! She wasn’t ugly! And she’d…
“And therein lies the problem,” Barbra continued, “You’re never going to get them to back down. Even if they do find you pretty, they’ll find other ways of bullying or demeaning you. And it’s not your fault. They’re shallow and self-centered. All they’re doing is picking on an easy target.”
Just before Rachel was about to protest, Barbra continued.
“The way to beat them is to be confident in yourself.” She said, “And that’s where my comment comes into play. Let me ask, which part of your streak did you enjoy?”
“How did you know…?” Rachel started.
“Ms. Saunders,” Barbra smiled, “I saw how you walked around the school before the teacher sent you to the Principal’s office. You were slightly enjoying yourself. Now, what were you a fan of?”
Rachel wanted to answer that she was showing the bullies up. She wanted to answer that she was justifying her own self-sensibilities. She wanted to answer that she was enjoying herself and that she was beautiful. But the words of Mrs. Bucciarelli rang in Rachel’s ears: “You put yourself on display.”
“I…I…” she started.
But Barbra raised a hand, “Before you answer, think about it for a second. And I mean deeply think about it.”
Rachel paused and thought back to this morning. She pushed back the shame and angst that clouded her mind. As Rachel’s mind pushed back towards the time when she walked into the school, her mind became focused on Barbra’s words. So she shifted that memory aside. Then she realized there was a different memory. The memory of her walk to school. Since she lived only a few blocks away, it was only a ten-minute walk from school. Therefore, it made sense for Rachel to walk to school every day.
And on this day, she walked to school naked. Rachel remembered the wind as it brushed against her. She remembered how gently it felt against her exposed skin. Rachel remembered the warmth of the sun. She remembered how it felt as the sidewalk gravel brushed against her bare feet. For some strange reason, she enjoyed the sensations. It was as if Rachel were a part of nature, and nature was accepting her. And yet, she couldn’t explain why.
Looking up at Barbra, Rachel gave her answer, “I…I felt free on my walk to school.”
Barbra smiled, “And that’s what you enjoyed?”
“Yeah…But I can’t explain why?” Rachel asked.
Barbra nodded, “I figured as much. Someone like you wouldn’t take up a track like that unless there were something about it you enjoyed. And I wanted to make sure you were doing it for the right reasons.”
“But I wasn’t,” Rachel asked.
“No, and your heart wasn’t in the right place.” Barbra said, “That all being said, I’ve been in your shoes, so to speak.”
“You streaked in High School?” Rachel asked, completely stunned.
“I mean, didn’t everyone back in the 70’s?” Barbra joked, “But no, I didn’t. However, my daughter Amy was in the same position you are in now.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow, “I mean…I know she’s been bullied too, but I don’t see how…”
“My little Amy was also struggling with her body image and her self-worth. And when that happened, she found a friend in Kimberly.”
“Oh, I’ve met her, she seems a bit…” Rachel started, “Out there. But how’d she get Amy to find confidence?”
“Well, Kimberly is a nudist…” Barbra started.
But Rachel was instantly caught on the word, “Wait, what!? She’s a pervert?!”
“Now hold on there, young lady,” Barbra smiled, “Hear me out before you jump down her throat. And let’s not forget what you felt about your walk to school.”
Rachel bit her tongue and calmed down.
“Amy was struggling with her body and with the way the bullies were treating her. But when she started hanging out with Kimberly, Kimberly introduced her to nudism. A lifestyle in which people live without clothes. They wake up, cook food, clean their house, hang out with friends, and go for walks or swims in pools naked.”
Rachel’s jaw hit the floor. She never pegged Kimberly, or Amy for that matter, to be in something so weird! But then Barbra continued.
“And when I found out about Amy, I wanted to show my support for her, so…I joined her.” Barbra smiled.
“So, if you’re home…you’re not wearing clothes?” Rachel asked.
“Yup!” Barbra smiled.
Rachel nodded absentmindedly. Was that why Barbra was so quick to defend her? Was that why she was getting off with such a light sentence? What exactly was she dealing with here?
“That’s weird,” Rachel said.
“It can be to some, to Amy, it’s given her a sense of self, a sense of her own body confidence, and the sense to be who she wants to be,” Barbra explained, “All that she gained being around like-minded nudists within the resorts and home.”
“And for you?” Rachel asked.
“Well, at first, it allowed me to bond with my daughter during a time when a rift was forming between us. After a while, though, I began to feel a real connection with nature when I began going on hikes.”
“Wait, so you hiked naked?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah, the camp Kimberly and her family take us to has three hiking trails.” Barbra smiled, “And you get a real sense of peacefulness from them. Kind of like how you felt on your way to school.”
Rachel paused as her mind flashed back to the walk to school. To feel like that again, and whenever she wanted to. To be around others who were naked, who didn’t judge her for her body. To be around others who thought similarly to her. Who felt similarly to her. How much better would that be for her mind? For her sense of self?
“How…how can I join something like that?” Rachel asked.
Barbra smiled, “Well, I’m glad you asked. Because that will help me explain how you received such a light sentence. You see, I’m now a part of a group called the Natural Living Appreciation Committee, and it’s our mandate to destigmatize nudism and nudity to the wide world. It was through one of their members who leaned on the Principal to commute your sentence.”
“But why?” Rachel asked.
“It’s simple, we wanted to give you a second chance. Because of what we spoke about, we wanted to see where your heart was. And now that I’ve determined what your intention really was, that means to me that he made the right choice.” Barbra answered.
Rachel sighed as she sat there. In truth, her head was spinning. Amy and Mrs. Bucciarelli were nudists! And now Rachel seemed to be leaning in that direction. For a day that started with her trying to get revenge on bullies, everything had taken a turn. Crazier still, she was starting to see some appeal. The memories of the walk to school had filled her brain, as if there was a sense within her to become one with nature again. Quietly, she wondered what it would be like to try it.
“So, where would I go if I wanted to check this out?” she asked.
Barbra smiled, “Let’s finish cleaning up, and then we’ll talk about that Rachel.”
Rachel Saunders stood by the front desk of the Silver Lotus Spa & Treatment, waiting for the school representative to arrive. Her emerald green robe hung loose on her body. Her memories flashed back to that day nearly thirty years ago. In that time, she had gone from a timid first timer to a full-blown Nudist Advocate. Now that she was happily married, confident in her own skin, and ambitious in her goals for the NLAC. Her phone buzzed with a message; it was from Amy.
“The woman’s on her way, first name Audrey,” Amy had texted.
“Good, we’re all ready for her here, fingers crossed,” Rachel responded.
Quietly, she smiled to herself before a movement on the wall caught her attention. It was a reflection of light, as if the sun was glinting off a pair of headlights. Readjusting the tie on her robe to make sure she was proper, Rachel smiled. Nearly twenty years ago, she started he adventure sitting in front of the Principal’s office in a school robe, which had resulted in her getting detention. As a result, she became a nudist. Now, dressed in a comfier robe, she was going to begin a new school adventure. Who knew detention could change someone’s life?