Chapter Seven: Unable
Lisa was late for class. Her Classics lecture was going to start in five minutes, and she was on the other side of campus. She had been chatting with some new friends she'd met in Linguistics during her free period, and had completely lost track of time, until Kevin mentioned he needed to get going if he was going to make his Math lecture, which was in a much closer hall.
After waving a quick goodbye to Kevin, Julie and Sasha, Lisa walked briskly in the direction of the Classics hall, soon breaking into a jog. After having missed so many lectures at the beginning of the semester, she was determined to have a complete attendance record for what remained. And her Classics professor liked to lock the doors right after starting.
Lisa ignored the looks she got from other students as her sneakers bounced off asphalt. Unlike the last time she'd run across campus, she was fully clothed, so they could stare all they wanted. After everything she'd been through, there was slim chance she'd ever feel embarrassed while fully dressed again.
Her mind was hard at work, figuring out the best route to get to the lecture hall. At this pace, she still wouldn't make it if she ran along the road. But there was a shortcut, if she took a secret route through the campus botanical gardens. That was it.
Asphalt gave way to grass, and soon she was standing in front of the wire fence that surrounded the gardens. The original planner had been an eccentric academic, with some pet theory that made him insist that gardens be experienced along a specific path, and so he had a wall built around the whole thing, with only one entrance and exit. The legend went that he originally wanted it built out of solid stone and at least seven feet high, but all the college could fund was a five foot chickenwire fence, prone to breakages.
Lisa had come across one such breakage a few days ago, and now lifted and slipped under it. But as she continued forward, she felt a snag. Looking back, she noticed that her top was caught on a protruding wire.
Even though she was still in a hurry, Lisa slowly, carefully stepped back and then carefully disentangled the wire. There was no sense in destroying the clothes she had waited so long to wear. Just imagine the irony of losing her top like this, after she had been cured!
The wire came loose with a few seconds of worrying, leaving only a small pinprick in her top, barely large enough to see.
Lisa made her way through trees and bushes to the official path, and then continued her dash. She jogged down the winding cobblestone path, taking no time to admire the trees and flowers around her, but noting that the whole place seemed a bit wild. She'd only been inside once before, and if she hadn't known that there was only one path through it, she probably would not have considered it a shortcut. Luckily, the lecture hall was close to the official exit of the botanical gardens, so she wouldn't need to find another break in the fence.
As she ran, she felt a vibration in the back pocket of her jeans. Someone was calling her. Exasperated, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. The name Debra Sorrenti appeared on the screen.
Debra had been saying something to her a couple of days ago about the counter-curse being temporary, or the original curse being more powerful, but she'd sounded really unsure of herself, and kept throwing in maybes and possiblities. Lisa was grateful to her, of course, but the more she learned about Debra's secret, the less confidence she had in the witch's actual understanding of the magic she used.
It had been a full two weeks since that night on the roof, and Lisa was showing no signs of rebound. Debra agreed that that was a positive sign, and that anything that happened would happen gradually, like the original onset of Lisa's condition. Lisa had agreed that as soon as a shoe felt too tight, or a bra started burning her, she'd come see Debra immediately.
But Lisa had felt fully comfortable in every item of clothing she'd worn for weeks. She and Shelly had celebrated the cure by experimenting with how many clothes she could put on, and she had triumphantly padded up in half her wardrobe before feeling a pretty normal amount of heat and tightness.
Even now, Lisa was wearing a long-sleeved, fitted button-up top, tight jeans and boots, and feeling perfectly fine, if a little hot and sweaty from this running. She felt better if she was overdressed these days. Maybe she'd try out some shorts in a few weeks.
Lisa put the phone to her ear. "Hi Debra," she said between breaths. "What's up?"
There was a brief silence on the line, and then a cracking voice came through. "Lisa, listen, we've gotta meet up. Urgently. You have to get to my dorm. Right now."
Lisa's heart stopped. "Why? What's happened?"
"N-nothing. Nothing yet. But it will! Listen, I've been doing some reading, and I think I was wrong before. We don't have much time."
The botanical garden exit was in sight, and there were still a few minutes to go before the lecture started. Lisa stood for a moment, contemplating her options. She had half a mind to put the phone down and keep going. She was fine. She felt great! She looked down at her top and pinched its fabric between two fingers, drawing it back and releasing. Still fine.
"Lisa? Are you there?" came a distant voice from the phone, which was hanging by her side. "Please hurry!"
She may have been feeling fine, but Lisa knew better than to tempt fate. She imagined herself tearing off her clothes in desperation right in the middle of the Classics lecture. Old Professor Jameson's eyes would pop out of his head! Actually, it might literally kill him. Not to mention give her a reputation as a crazy stripper, all across campus. It was bad enough seeing the occasional blurry, poorly lit photo of the infamous Owl Mask Streaker dancing at the Freshers Streak after party.
Lisa pulled the phone back up to her ear. "On my way." She hung up, spun on her heels, and took off in the opposite direction, back towards the break in the fence. She could feel heat rising to her cheeks. Maybe she was just hot from running, or maybe Debra's counter curse was busy failing.
Starting to panic now, Lisa turned from the cobblestone path she'd been on and ducked under a tree branch, heading directly for the break in the fence. Hair fell about her face as she raced, dodging trees and stomping on flowers. She'd be in massive trouble if they ever caught her, but that paled in comparison to the alternative.
There it was--the gap in the fence! Lisa ducked under a last tree branch, but her foot caught on sometime, and she fell. Down, down, down. Her foot was caught in a root! She struggled to dislodge it, got up again, and dashed forward. But where was the fence? It had been right there...
Lisa doubled over with sudden nausea. She felt a familiar tightness, but it was worse now than it had ever been before. It was as though she was being crushed in an avalanche of sheets. She pulled violently at her top, popping off the top button.
Then everything went black.
* * *
A shallow stream wound through the botanical garden, charting a course much different from the official path. It grew to its widest near the center of the garden, in a particularly overgrown patch. On that particular day, shortly after the start of the third morning lecture period, a pair of small, delicate feet dangled off the bank, with the weak current lapping over them.
Those feet belonged to a sleeping female student, lost in the garden. They were clean, with cute pink toes, spread wide from a lot of time barefoot. They connected to a pair of strong, slender white legs, which met in a wide, firm, and completely bare ass, and continued up in a bare back, and a mass of dirty blonde hair.
Lisa awoke with a start. She could feel water lapping at her feet, and the breezing whipping across the bare skin of her legs, ass and back. The grass tickled her boobs and tummy. She was naked once more.
"Ow!" she said as she pinched herself. "Not a dream. Didn't think so. Where am I?"
Lisa groaned as she raised herself up on her arms and shakily stood up, pulling her feet from the stream and now feeling the unwelcome breeze across her front. She was still in the garden, but deeper in. She remembered rushing for the fence, tripping, getting back up, and nothing after that. Well, nothing coherent. A crushing sensation. The sudden return of her hated symptoms. The revenge of the witch's curse.
How long had she been out? She had no watch to tell the time, and her phone was nowhere in sight. Neither, for that matter, were her clothes, or her book-bag. All around her were trees, flowers and birds.
Well that's just great, she thought. Her clothes had to be around there somewhere, but probably not in a neat pile. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the area.
There! On the end of a tree branch, something white. Lisa darted towards it and took a closer look.
It was one of her socks. Well, that was a start, at least. She reached out to grab it.
As Lisa's hand touched the sock, a jolt of electricity shot down her arm. She yelped and stumbled back, tripping over another root. Waving her arms in the air in a futile attempt to maintain her balance, she plomped down, butt first. Mud splashed all around her.
Lisa groaned as she picked herself up. Now she was dirty, on top of everything else. But at least there was a stream here. She stepped into the cool, shallow water and squatted to let the current wash the mud off her ass.
There was a rustle in the bushes. Lisa's eyes locked onto the source of the noise. A voice said, "Hey, is this your--oh!"
For an awful long moment, Lisa held eye contact with the boy who had just stepped into view. A sheepish, gangly student with green eyes and a mop of brown hair. He wore baggy cargo pants and a graphic T-shirt with a band logo Lisa didn't recognize, under an open flannel shirt that looked a few sizes too big. In his right hand, he held a dirty white piece of ragged fabric. His jaw looked about ready to hit the ground.
And it was no wonder--here was Lisa, squatting naked in the stream, arms dangling at her sides, legs wide. She blushed furiously as she straightened up and moved to cover herself.
"Sorry!" the boy squeaked, slapping his free hand in front of his eyes. "I found this, and I heard your voice, and I... I..." He held out the ragged piece of fabric in front of him. "Y-yours?"
Lisa examined the fabric and realized with horror that it was her top, torn in two places and covered in dirt. What had happened while she was out?
Still, a torn, dirty top was better than none. "Y-yes, it's mine," she replied, forcing the words through a dry throat. She stepped forward. The boy dutifully turned his face away, hand still firmly in front of his eyes.
As the initial shock receded, Lisa felt another emotion: indignation. She'd seen this kind of scene in too many movies. "You shouldn't disturb girls bathing in the woods, you know! Or steal their clothes!"
"This is a... garden?" the boy replied, confused. "And I wasn't... I mean... uh..."
Lisa softened, and then immediately felt bad. The boy was clearly just trying to help her. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching for her top. "I appreciate the--ow!"
At the touch of fabric, another electric jolt ran down Lisa's arm. This one didn't make her lose her balance, but she immediately withdrew her harm from the fabric and shook her arm thoroughly. What was going on with her?
"You okay?" the boy asked, still standing with his arm outstretched.
"Yeah," Lisa lied. She reached for the top again, and immediately drew her hand back. "Ow! Fuck!"
