A Loli's ENF Adventure/Sally/School1/Tiffany, a girl who hates her
Sally went down each row of desks methodically distributing worksheets. Each student never gave her more than a sideways glance as he or she accepted a paper. Sally considered their inattention to be courteous. When someone is being punished, even when it is a mild punishment like handing out papers, the nicest thing that you can do for her is to pretend that it isn't happening.
A girl, Tiffany, seated in the back row of the far column offered her no such courtesy. As Sally approached her desk, Tiffany drew herself up straight. She was a couple inches taller than Sally, and she wanted to remind her of who was bigger. Tiffany's brown eyes peered up at Sally over the red rims of her glasses, and her lips contorted in an unsuccessful attempt to be both a mocking grin and a disgusted frown at the same time. It succeeded at appearing hostile if little else.
Tiffany's straight brown hair had been tied back in a ponytail with a hair tie. There was a star-patterned band-aid covering a scratch on her knee, and her socks had fallen loosely around her ankles. Sally could smell fresh grass on her. Tiffany had been playing outside before she came to class, probably with her friends.
Sally and Tiffany used to play together until two years ago. Something that Sally still did not understand had happened on the playground that had upset Tiffany, and the two had fought. The teasing and the name-calling had continued afterward, and the ill-will had quickly become mutual.
Tiffany held out a hand and gestured with her eyes at the last worksheet in Sally's hand. "Well," she sneered.
Sally flipped the worksheet over Tiffany's hand and toward her desk. With an open palm, Tiffany caught the now-wrinkled worksheet against the edge of her desk. She threw Sally an angry glare.
"Oops," Sally teased. With a smirk, she turned on her heels toward the front of the room giving her loose skirt a flare with her narrow hips. The unbuttoned skirt with its half-drawn zipper slipped an inch around her waist, the motion drawing Tiffany's eyes.
As Sally stepped away from her desk, Tiffany, eager for revenge, leaned over her desk and stretched out just enough to catch a pleat on the hem of Sally's uniform skirt between her thumb and forefinger. That was all it took. Sally's flat prepubescent hips offering little resistance, the skirt slipped down her legs to her knees, nearly tripping her. She shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone in the classroom from the kids in the back row to Mr. Vice at the front. To keep from falling over she brought her knees back together and held out her hands, which allowed her skirt to drop the rest of the way down to her ankles where it pooled around her shoes. Sally clapped both of her hands over her crotch, but what her fingers found there--bare skin!--made the blush on her cheeks burn brighter. She cast back in her memory for the exact moment in the morning when she had indeed put on her underwear, but the more she thought back the more it became clear to her that she had not done so. She was briefly glad that she was in a back corner of the class and that she had managed to cover herself before anyone had a chance to get a look at her naked girl parts. Anyone, that is, except for Tiffany who, still stretched out over her desk with Sally hunched over in front of her, was treated to a face full of glorious ruddy, waifish moon.
"Oh my god you're not wearing panties!" The cry came from the girl sitting in the back row across from Tiffany who, while she could not see Sally's privates, could see her bare hip. Murmuring voices around the classroom rose in response. Giggling started to blossom out of the noise while Mr. Vice urged the class to calm down.
Mortified, Sally squatted down to the floor and grabbed at the ground for her fallen skirt. Staying as low as she could, she worked it first up to her knees and then back around her waist. Once she was properly covered again, she stood back up and zipped up the skirt. Feeling tears start to pool in the corners of her eyes, she looked around at her classmates as they barely contained their laughter. Her friends at least tried to cover their faces while they shook with suppressed giggles. Her heart sank as she saw Quinn, a boy she had had her eye on for a while, whispering and laughing with his friend seated across from him.
Tiffany had done this somehow, Sally realized. Oh, she was going to let her have it for sure. She whirled round on her rival and was surprised to not see a sadistic, triumphant grin on her face. Instead Tiffany was slumped over her desk, her eyes wide behind glasses that had slipped down to the very tip of her nose and her jaw slack as if in shock. As her eyes rose above the rims of her glasses to meet Sally's she gave a subdued start and composed herself, pulling her glasses back up and drawing herself upright in her seat. She crossed her arms, tightly clutching her elbows, and her flushed face glowered at Sally with a rage that neither girl understood.
"Please take your seat, Miss Sorensen," Mr. Vice ordered from the front of the room. The giggling and chatting quieted, and Sally turned her back to Tiffany with a huff. With one hand clutching the waist of her skirt where the lost button had been, she marched to the front of the room feeling eyes on her back, hearing amused whispers as she passed by desks, and trying her best to look like she did not notice any of it.
When Sally reached her desk, she plopped her bare cheeks onto the seat and buried her face in her hands. A couple swipes of her fingers cleared the moisture from her eyes. This, she decided, was the worst day of her life, but what could she do about it?