This choice: Ms. Polluck hears Sam bragging about her "alterations" and is not happy. • Go Back... Alice’s adjustments to Sam’s uniform were so comfy that she slept in her clothes that night, disgusting her roommate the next morning by going out as a wrinkled mess, which didn’t bother Sam in the slightest. For the first time in what felt like a great while she wasn’t bursting out of too tight clothes. Sam, who had more of a hard knock life than the average Buttercombe princess was used too, never had the money to buy too many clothes, one of the regrets of her sudden weight gain. Having a friend like Alice who had just about magicked the old uniform into a fresh set was possibly the best gift from somebody Sam had ever gotten.
Sam was so stoked about her refitted clothes that she was chewing everyone’s ear off (that is unrelentless chatting, not resorting to cannibalism) to any who cared or didn’t care to listen during her classes. All throughout Sam’s Poetry, Public Speaking and now Pre-Calc classes she was bragging her mouth off whenever she could get a word in edgewise.
“I mean, check this shit out!” Sam was even wearing the blazar that Alice had redesigned for her despite the warmth. In her conversation with her friend Paul Spillum she gestured to the Buttercombe Academy emblem, the bee on the icon looking a lot more fierce than the usual friendly bee, with a bit of extra embroidery elongating the stinger and a few piercings that matched Sam’s own. You could say Sam now had a yellow jacket on her yellow jacket.
Paul raised an approving eyebrow at this. The two pierced punks had easily set into being friendly given how outnumbered they were by Buttercombe prissies. Both were boyish looking boney thin girls at the start of the year. Now Sam had unbelievably chunked up at almost an alarming rate whereas Paul had remained surprisingly 'almost' thin. 'Almost' because of her weird nearly all liquid diet; while her torso from neck down remained square and flat, Paul had stretched her stomach to an absurd degree from water bloats, meaning she could match the size if not the weight gain of the various other growing bellies at Buttercombe. Today she sported a modest bloat.
"And this has got to be the best part," Sam said. She tugged at the new elastic in her waistband, showing that despite the overtaxing of her tummy there was still plenty of give (and a borderline scandalous flash of her panties). "You'd kill for something like this, right," she added, rubbing in how Paul's self-bloating habit could use a pair of accommodating bottoms.
"And this Alice priss fixed it for you?"
"Alice is fucking cool for the prissy type, not like my bitch princess of a roommate Maddocks," Sam said, indicating the snobby pink loving ultra-prissy-ultra-pudgy prima donna writer on the school paper, Mackenzie Maddocks.
"Though she hates the fact I got this for free." At least Sam could find some happiness in annoying the crap out of her roommate. "All her stuff used to be expensively tailored, which she used to lord over me, but now that Alice can hook me up for jack shit--"
"GIRLS!" came the outburst from their teacher. Somehow both Sam and Paul had been so caught up in their conversation in the back seats of the class that they had ignored the quaking steps of Adeline Holloway, the math teacher. The effect of her stern face was lessened by her prodigious putting-the-ASS-in-ASSet. It was so wide not only could she effectively plug an aisle between desks the length of her arms looked to fall short of her 'hands on hips' incredulous posture.
"I have had it with your conversations in class," the wide load math teacher laid into them, "and your language, Miss Wilsey--"
"I'm fucking sorry teach! Shit, I'll be quiet now I promise."
The other students that had turned to follow this outburst could see Professor Holloway's gelatinous gluts tense up in anger.
"That does it! Principal's office right now, BOTH of you!"
( ( ) )
In the time for one trip to the upper administrative office, Ms. Polluck put down the receiver of her phone with the oncoming pangs of a migraine. Buttercombe did not condone troublemakers and they thankfully rarely had any problem students. Up until the likes of Samantha Wilsey and Pauline Spillum.
The two were smart, yes, with many hidden talents but when it came to disruptions in academy life few others were as aggravating. Between them reprimands for foul language, disrupting class, annoying dormmates, possession of contraband and more had created a lengthy enough list already halfway through the semester. But most commonly (and worst of all to Ms. Polluck's skewed priorities) were the dress code violations. It seemed like every other day Wilsey or Spillum were knowingly defying dress code, from Pauline's boots to Samantha's band t-shirts to...the horror...their piercings.
Actually, there was little the school could do with poo-pooing any piercings or other body modifications students had before they attended Buttercombe. The staff could only heavily dissuade such students from getting anymore while enrolled. And if Ms. Polluck was a gambling woman she would have bet either Wilsey or Spillum had a tattoo hiding somewhere.
The principal and headmistress regarded the two indifferent teens standing in her office. "You two are such smart girls," Ms Polluck began, feigning an air of pleasantries but her tone said otherwise. Truthfully both girls were scholarship winners, they were just so so outlandish. Samantha looked to have been settling well into Buttercombe ways, she had plenty of friends. Pauline reminded more indifferent, diligent and quiet. Alone they likely wouldn’t be disruptive at such a frequent rate but together...
But what peeved Ms. Polluck the most was Wilsey's mockery of the uniform, noting every slight. Sleeves too short, skirt faux-buttoned and aligned with elastic, the whole thing was not as authentic to the standard uniform as it looked.
Though given the common problem a large majority of the student population (emphasis on large) one would think Buttercombe would have adopted a more flexible uniform for the 'Growing' girls. Yet Buttercombe was a traditional institution most of all and Ms. Polluck deemed to keep it that way. AND the Buttercombe Bee was no horned hornet!
Her eyes snapped from the altered emblem to Sam's rounder face. "Just what is your meaning for wearing such a uniform not up to code?"
"Shi--Sheesh Ms. Polluck," Sam barely corrected herself, "just trying to make my uniform last longer before having to buy the next one. And it's my neighbor Alice that fixed it up for me..." Whoops.
The intensity of Ms. Polluck crescendoed after Sam realized that she'd inadvertently singled out Alice. "Alice who?" the headmistress asked, though she had an answer to her own question.
"And what are those, Spillum?" Ms. Polluck snapped in another near shriek at the sight of Pauline's tie being studded with pins. The beverage guzzling sophomore sighed with a well practiced roll of her eyes.
( ( ) )
At the end of Alice's classes for the day, she figured she would be the first home to her room, unless Megan had cut her last period to catch up on her recorded television. So it was with Alice's greatest surprise and horror to find that it wasn't her roommate sitting on the well worn couch but a distinctively out of place headmistress.
"Alice dear," Ms. Polluck said with far too honeyed of a voice, "won't you sit next to me?" She patted a cushion as Alice stood halfway through the door, caught like a dear facing highway headlights.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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