Their cousin's car peeled out of the parking lot and backfired as it sped away. While the large crowd of students ducked and took cover to avoid what sounded like gunfire, the two siblings scurried forward into the hall as fast as possible. The last thing they wanted was to be associated with that embarrassing racket. Fortunately for them, no one seemed to notice, and they successfully managed to blend in with the other high school students looking to enrol in classes for the fall semester.

They were on their own now. For Riley, it was all new. This would be her first year of high school in the strange, small coastal town of Bluffwatch. She had just transferred, and the petite, sixteen-year-old was already nervous enough without the added theatrics of a malfunctioning exhaust system. She was never more thankful than she was right there for her half-brother.

Christian was the same age, but since he'd lived by the beach his whole life, he knew the ropes. So his sister stuck to his heels and followed him around like a terrified puppy. She did everything she could to stop herself from taking his hand in front of the eyes of all the other students, despite how much better it would have made her feel. He wouldn't have minded either. Christian loved his new sister.

He'd taken an instant liking to her the moment she turned up at their doorstep. She was pretty, sure, but she had all those other intangible qualities that his young mind couldn't quite identify but was sure that he liked. She was mysterious, shy, and hard to read, but still very polite and was a good listener too. Her smile was warm and genuine. So, Christian was eager to show her around the campus on registration day.

After they had gone the full length of the hall, Riley stopped. She cleared her throat and spoke in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, "What are you going to pick?"

"It doesn't matter really," he said. "This is mostly just electives. And I'm playing soccer so that counts for me."

Riley exhaled through her small, flat nose.

"How about Ceramics?" Christian suggested, pointing at a table. "You like that sort of stuff, right?"

She shook her head.

"Right. Too messy. Hmm, what about auto? Our cousin could use the help—"

Riley tugged his arm and pulled him out of the busy intersection. Traffic was beginning to congest while he stood there, taking in the options. She knew he meant well, and she also knew that everything didn't have to be perfect. But they could at least avoid unnecessary stares and whispers by getting out of the way. She made up her mind.

"I think I'm going to look around on my own, if that's OK with you?" Riley said.

Chris looked at her. "Are you sure? It's no trouble, really! I don't mind helping, and mom said to—"

"No, please, I want to, I dunno, try to do this on my own. I know it's not super important, but I want to try. Meet you back here in thirty?"

"Uh, yeah, OK sure," Christian said. Then, Riley turned and walked away.

She hoped she hadn't hurt his feelings, he was only trying to help. But something got into her. Just moments earlier, an older girl bumped into her like she didn't even exist. The skinny, white girl didn't say sorry either, or even turn around, she just kept on walking down the narrow space between booths wearing a ridiculous denim mini skirt. Riley took a deep breath.

She ran her hands over her hair and immediately regretted how she'd styled it. The two pink ribbons may have kept her unruly pigtails at bay, but they looked out of place. In fact, the entirety of her outfit made her stand out. White sneakers with pink stripes combined with her tall, knee-high socks and plaid skirt all screamed that she went to a Catholic school. Riley worried she looked like a nun amidst the gaggle of carefree teenagers in jeans and t-shirts. There were even a couple of boys fresh from the beach, still in their board shorts. Riley made a fist, took another breath, then stepped in the girl's direction.

It made her feel like a spy who was trying her best to look casual while she followed her mark. She narrowed her eyes, pretended to read pamphlets, and offered fake smiles and nods to no one in particular to make it look like she was busy like everyone and certainly not a spy. That's when she bumped into her target. Riley had her head turned when she slammed right into the skinny girl. Riley's cheeks turned red. She opened her mouth to explain, but the girl never even looked at her. She just calmly tossed a brochure onto the floor and continued down the narrow corridor.

Riley's heart turned back on. She'd never felt so relieved in her life. More determined now—and certainly more cautious—Riley followed.

She kept herself at a safe distance, practicing the stealthy observation component of espionage to the best of her ability, and to her surprise, it worked. But of course this worked, she thought to herself. If she didn't get noticed by crashing into her subject, then there's no way in hell she'd get caught now. Riley squinted at the petite white girl.

She soaked it in, absorbing every detail of the girl's face, the pretty French braid in her hair, and the tight white t-shirt that showed no signs of a bra underneath. She had a small chest, but Riley still felt a bra would have been appropriate given that her nipples had been a distraction at every table she'd visited. Both male and female teachers alike had difficulty selling the merits of their respective courses. There were stutters and overt glances and embarrassing head shakes. Riley's ears suddenly perked up.

She heard a male voice able to keep up with the girl word for word. He was an art teacher, though he didn't sound very knowledgeable or even very interested in his own class.

"Look," he said, "I don't care, do whatever you want. I get paid by the hour. Sign up or don't. Most kids just dick around anyway, so does it really matter what class you do it in?"

"So... Don't sign up for the beginner art class?" she asked.

"I took this class twenty years ago, and now look at me. I've got a nice mobile home and everything." He flashed a smile with a missing tooth.

The girl cocked her head. "Is it paid off, at least?"

"Yes. Well, in twenty more years, it will be. I lost track."

"Must be a nice mobile home. Tell me it has a nice courtyard, and a pool, and maybe some mature citrus trees."

"Do you think you're funny?"

"Do you think you're helpful?" she shot back.

The man reclined in his seat and studied her. His eyes looked her up and down, then he continued, "Yup, we're going to be neighbors one day. I can tell."

"As long as it's got got an orange tree, I'll be OK. I love orange juice."

The man shrugged. "I do too."

"Well then, sign me up."

"It's your life," he said, then handed her the clipboard where she scribbled her name.

As she reached for it and leaned forward over the table, her mini skirt rose up her legs. Riley caught herself gaping at the white flesh of her skinny thighs. She could make out the bottom of her cheeks and still hadn't found any underwear. This girl was the polar opposite of Riley who always wore plain, boring white cotton panties that her mother had bought her. And Riley's skirt was long, almost touching her knees.

The pretty white girl scooted in closer to the man and whispered something in his ear. When she did, her skirt shifted even higher, just high enough where Riley could make out the sliver of an exotic thong underneath. Her eyes went wide. She couldn't even force herself to blink she was so enthralled. She couldn't turn away from what she saw and how casually this pretty girl showed off her small, shapely bottom. It didn't make sense why anyone would ever trust such a small piece of cloth to protect what was underneath from wandering eyes. The thong was only about half as wide as it needed to be. Riley's eyes felt itchy and dry as she consumed the pale, white flesh on either side of that narrow piece of cloth.

The girl groaned and set her chin down on the table, pouting at the man. Riley's eyes twitched. She blew hot air through her nose. She knew she was staring, she knew people might have noticed her, but she couldn't help it. It was impossible to turn away, and her chest suddenly felt tight, like she could hardly breathe. When she inhaled, it felt forced and mechanical like she'd forgotten how to do it. But there was more, something else was bothering her.

Riley was suddenly acutely aware of how her panties felt against her body. They weren't fancy or exotic like the girl's underwear, but still, the soft, white cloth wrapped tightly around her curves. She felt a phantom touch, like fingers were delicately tracing the contour of her cheeks and that sensitive area between her thighs.

"Hey, there you are," Christian said. It sounded like he was out of breath.

Riley jumped. She brought a hand to her heart.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

The startled girl nodded. "Yeah, so I, uh... I think I found a class—I'm going to take this one."

Chris looked over her shoulder. "Ah, I figured you'd find this eventually. But I wouldn't recommend—"

Riley pushed her brother aside and jotted her name down on the clipboard. The gruff man rolled his eyes.