Inspection Day Ch 01 1

"Here at Descalcent High School, we believe that holding our students to a high standard of grooming and hygiene encourages discipline and an attention to detail that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. To that end, we hold regular inspections of a body part often neglected during personal grooming: the feet. Well-maintained feet are an excellent indicator of a young woman's overall personal maintenance."

-

Descalcent High School Student Handbook

Calculus class first thing in the morning should be a crime

, Phoebe Blake thought. Out of all her classes in her senior year, this was by far the worst. The symbols and equations on the marker board were just noise to her groggy brain.

It didn't help that Phoebe forgot to set her alarm last night. She just made the bus, but at the cost of skipping her morning coffee. All she had time for was a quick shower and throwing on the first clothes she could find; an oversized flannel shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans, and slip-on canvass sneakers that were white at some point.

Phoebe's long, black hair was still wet when she got on the bus. It dried into a stringy mess on the way. She looked like a ghost from a Japanese horror movie having a grunge phase.

The three-note jingle of the school's PA system startled Phoebe out of her calculus-induced stupor. She was awake now; the tinny shrillness of the speakers made sure of that.

"Good morning, DHS!" Principal Carter's voice sounded. Phoebe didn't like him much, but had to admit his voice was fit for radio.

"It's the first Tuesday of the fine month of February, and you all know what that means: Foot inspection day!"

Shit, that's today!?

Phoebe thought.

"You all know the drill by now: shoes off, socks off, feet on your desks. Your friendly neighborhood foot inspectors will be with you shortly. This has been Mr. Carter, over and out!"

Between homework, tennis club, applying for college, and trying to squeeze in a social life, Phoebe committed a cardinal sin at Descalcent High: she neglected her feet. In a normal school, this wouldn't be an issue. DHS was not a normal school.

By anyone else's standards, Phoebe's feet would look fine. Hell, some would even say they were cute. They only had the wear and tear expected from walking around on them. To the inspectors, they may have been just bad enough for a failing grade. She could only hope her inspector was feeling generous today.

The class got to work stripping their feet bare. The classroom filled with sounds of chattering and discarded shoes hitting the floor. Some took the time to untie their shoes and slip their feet out. Others just kicked theirs off. Phoebe was in the latter camp. She wasn't concerned with getting her old sneakers scuffed.

With Phoebe's sneakers off, it was time for her socks. Her toes weren't dexterous enough to pull them off, so she propped one foot on her thigh. She saw gray spots on the bottom, outlining the pads of her sole and toes. Too dark to be from a single morning's wear. In her rush to catch the bus this morning, she must have put on a dirty pair.

Her sock's vinegary smell told Phoebe that they were the pair she wore to to both gym class and tennis yesterday. She could feel her heartbeat in her eyeballs. Slightly unkempt feet might fail inspection, but smelly feet definitely would. She sighed and slipped a finger under the white ankle sock. She peeled it off and felt the chill February air. The odor only intensified. She just hoped the smell wouldn't carry.

Phoebe looked her foot over. Her heel and big toe had gotten a little rough. Her purple nail polish was chipped at the edges. Without looking this time, took the sock off her other foot. She lifted her bare feet up and let them rest on her desk, heels just barely off the edge.

Phoebe's feet weren't the last to be propped up. Some of the girls had more complicated boots to remove. Others were just shy. In a school that obsessed over feet like Descalcent High, it was only natural to be self-conscious.

The room became a sea of soft soles and colorful, pedicured toes. It took on the flowery scents of the lotions and oils the girls used to keep their feet fresh and soft. Products that Phoebe forgot to use. She listened to the chatter around her for any mentions of her odor. At first, there were only the usual foot inspection day conversations:

"I love your nail polish!"

"What scrub do you use?"

"You could win feet of the year!"

A few around her got suddenly quiet. Phoebe couldn't make out details, but the occasional "eww" left little doubt that they were whispering about her. Phoebe was too mortified to speak to anyone. Ten minutes or so passed, giving Phoebe time to stew in her shame. A knock on the door sent a wave of hush across the class; the foot inspector was here.

The teacher opened the door for Rhiannon Walsh, one of the twenty or so foot inspectors chosen this year. Foot inspectors, usually shortened to F.I.s, were selected out of each senior class for their impeccable records in both behavior and foot care. They got a badge of honor on their school IDs for the trouble; a footprint logo next to their name.

"Ah, Ms. Walsh. How go the inspections?" The teacher asked.

"Pretty well so far. Two rooms down with no failures," She paused to scan all the bare feet on display. "Let's see if we can get three in a row!"

Phoebe and Rhiannon had a few classes together, but were more acquaintances than friends. Rhiannon had always been shy and mousy. Getting chosen as an F.I. boosted her confidence through exposure and association with an elite core of the school. Just a year ago, she would have shrunken away from being the center of attention like this. Now, she waltzed confidently into the room, clipboard in hand. Only in Descalcent High could the "honor" of touching an entire school's feet make a change like that.

Phoebe noticed Rhiannon's bare feet beneath her anlkle-length skirt. Her feet were small, a size four or five if Phoebe had to guess. Their pale skin contrasted the deep brown of her skirt. Her small toes formed a perfect diagonal, with french tips on her nails. For someone who dressed as conservatively as Rhiannon, seeing her barefoot almost felt risque.

An F.I. going barefoot was unusual, even during inspections. They inspected each-other before the school day began. It was mostly a formality. Nobody expected their feet to be anything less than perfect. Making her rounds in bare feet would end in a layer of dirt on the immaculate soles they were so proud of. That, and it was (ironically) a dress code violation. The teacher didn't say anything about it, though.

Rhiannon approached the desk nearest to the door.

"Name?" Rhiannon asked the seated girl.

"Deirdre Maple." she replied. In every class Phoebe had with Deirdre, she always sat in front and answered the teacher's questions as often as she could. Phoebe was surprised she didn't get picked as an F.I. this year.

Rhiannon jotted her name down. She crouched a bit (standing at 5'1", she didn't have to go far) and began her work.

She ran her fingertips down Deirdre's soles, checking their texture and cleanliness. She paid special attention to the balls of her feet, her heels, and the round pads of her toes. All the places where dirt or roughness might accumulate. They were silky-smooth and clean, a healthy pink color with a creamy white instep. There was a bit of lint, but that was expected of feet freshly out of their socks.

Deirdre stifled a giggle and curled her toes. She regained her composure and spread them again, allowing Rhiannon to continue.

Rhiannon's fingers slid between her splayed toes, felling the velvety texture of the skin between. Again, perfectly clean save for a little lint. Deirdre pointed her toes to give Rhiannon easy access to the tops of her feet. Rhiannon looked over her toenails. Neatly trimmed and painted with deep red polish that stood out against her creamy skin.

For the last item of her inspection, Rhiannon brought her nose less than an inch from Deirdre's feet, just in front of where the balls met the toes. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her time as an F.I. made her a sommelier of foot care products. She smelled lilac-scented lotion, a coconut foot scrub, and a hint of clean cotton from her socks.

Deirdre's feet were an easy pass, and Rhiannon marked them down accordingly.

Her inspection lasted around twenty seconds from beginning to end. With so many feet to go through, Rhiannon had to be efficient. The next desk was the same process, as was the one after that. Each inspection was an elegant dance between her fingers and their feet, capped off with a smell of their delicate aromas.

Phoebe's pulse quickened with each student Rhiannon finished. It was odd: Rhiannon was the most harmless looking girl Phoebe had ever seen, yet her approach was like a bladed pendulum inching closer to Phoebe's throat with each tick.

Phoebe put her head down and let her hair cover her face. She could swear hours passed by the time it was her turn. She heard Rhiannon's naked soles quietly plodding on the tile floor in front of her.

"Name?"

"Uhh... Ph-Phoebe Blake." She hadn't realized how much she was shaking before she spoke.

Luckily, Phoebe's feet had the chance to air out. Their sweat had dried. Their odor had dissipated enough for Rhiannon to get close without immediately smelling it.

Rhiannon knelt down to begin her examination. Her fingertips gently slid across Phoebe's soles. Compared to her size-nine feet, Rhiannon's hands seemed so small.

Rhiannon was taking care not to use her nails, but her caress still sent ticklish waves through Phoebe's body. She pushed back against the reaction, limiting it to twitches in her legs and sharp puffs of air from her nostrils.

Rhiannon lingered on the rough spots of Phoebe's feet. Her heels were overdue for a pumice stone and some moisturizer. Calluses were starting to form on the sides of her big toes where they made contact with her shoes. Her soles were slightly discolored by a thin layer of grime. When Phoebe pointed her toes, Rhiannon could see they needed a new coat of polish. Where the tips of her big toes were chipped, some gunk was visible under her toenails.

Rhiannon's eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed and pulled to one side. Her eye shadow and red lipstick seemed to amplify this look of amused disappointment. She was prepared to mark her down as "Needs Improvement", a grade that would have given Phoebe a sternly worded email to do better next time, but nothing else. Rhiannon just had one last thing to check.

Phoebe closed her eyes tightly as Rhiannon drew closer for a sniff. She felt her blood rush to her face. A small current of air passed between her toes as Rhiannon inhaled. Immediately, the stench of old socks burned in her sensitive nostrils, a strong smell of vinegar and the rubbery scent of old sneakers. All the feet she had smelled that day were scentless at worst, but usually perfumed. Even the ones she had failed for their smell in past inspections were only a little musty. The shock to her senses forced a squeak out of her.

"Oh, sorry..." Rhiannon whispered, flustered.

Rhiannon wasn't supposed to give any indication of a failed inspection, but Phoebe's feet were the worst she had ever smelled. She took her duties as an F.I. seriously. As bad for Phoebe as she felt, Rhiannon had no choice but to fail her.

Phoebe could feel her classmates' eyes on her. Giggles and whispers spread through the class, but the blood rushing to her ears stopped her from making any of it out.

"Settle down, girls!" The teacher demanded.

Rhiannon looked Phoebe in the eyes, giving her an empathetic look that said "I'm so sorry."

When Rhiannon moved on to the next student, she had to take an extra second to clear the stink from her sinuses. Phoebe stole a look at her clipboard.

"Phoebe Blake. Failed: substandard maintenance, substandard cleanliness, strong odor."

Come eighth period, the president of the F.I.s would read off everyone who failed inspection. For the first time in her four years at Descalcent High, Phoebe's name would be among them. She would be part of the monthly march of shame towards whatever punishment the F.I.s cooked up.