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Dallas and Eve put on a live performance at a ladyboy bar.

"I know it's been a long tour and we've run you all pretty ragged. Piled a ton of new information on you. I don't want you all to go home feeling overwhelmed. So unwind for a while. Sample of one of the special advantages of working in this school."

So in the end, they all decided to do it. Just for twenty minutes or so. To unwind, like the girl said.

Her high heels were too new-her feet had been killing her, after all that walking. So many damn stairs.

They put all their clothes and things into lockers. Of course they didn't have swimsuits with them-"Trust me," the guide girl told them, "It's better not to wear anything. Swimsuits just get itchy. The whole point is to sweat, after all. Makes your butt breakout, if you're not careful. You're all grownups, right? It's no big deal. And you'll have towels to wrap up in, of course." Except of course they didn't-none of them had brought towels, just as none of them had brought swimsuits. And the school wasn't a health club-how many schools would provide towels for their students or their staff members, seriously? This was a rich private academy, but still ... they really should have known better.

But they were told they'd be given towels, in the Towel Room-God, it was so embarrassing that they'd believed this bullshit. The guide said it was on the way to the steam room, pointing to a door at the end of a short corridor, at the back of the locker room. "Just straight through there. Steam room is on the other side. Grab a towel for yourself off the shelf as you pass through."

So they went ahead, like sheep to the slaughter. All three of them prancing along completely naked. All three of them pretending like they weren't slightly freaked out to be doing that. Some people can strut around bare naked in a locker room and not feel uncomfortable about it-but only a few people, and only if they do this sort of thing all the time. The rest of us just fake nonchalance and fumble along as best we can, with varying degrees of success-embarrassed by our embarrassment, as much as by our exposed bodies. But it was only supposed to be for a few moments-then they'd have towels. Soon as they stepped through the door into the Towel Room.

Sheesh.

She had kept her glasses on. That was a little silly-they would have fogged up in the steam room. Hadn't even thought to take them off until she'd already shut her locker. And she was just too blind without them. It was no big deal. Foggy lenses you can wipe off, when you need to. Not the case with foggy vision.

She followed the other two women, the redhead and the blond. Hadn't caught their names yet.

They all went through the door, one right after the other, into bright light. Into noise. But not a one of them realized the truth until it was too late and they'd already passed through. Maybe if the redhead had screamed, or the blonde. But they didn't, and neither did she, when it was her turn. Too much shock.

Because of course there was no fucking Towel Room. The door was an exit, into a hallway. A crowded hallway-countless chattering students. But the chattering stopped. It was replaced by gasps. And then by hoots and whistles and howls and snorts, and then giggles, and then peals and peals of raucous hysterical laughter.

Also, inevitably, the clicks and bleeps of flashing camera phones.

Well, fuck. What else could you say?

She covered herself as much as she could. Not that everybody hadn't already seen everything. The others took it harder than her, it seemed. The blonde seemed about to start crying, and she also looked like she was about to wet herself on the icy tile floor.

And God, that floor was cold, so cold it stung-made her stretch up on her toes, like she was still wearing those awful painful heels-though part of that had been because of the protective stance she took, or rather, cringed into, when she huddled her shoulders and squeezed her knees together tight as she could .

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