She looked around. "I'm it?" she was hesitant, but she knew the answer.
They had been partying for quite a while near a peaceful, secluded lake. The sun was setting. A campfire was burning. The gently sloping ground near the fire was covered with blankets.
They'd had a great day swimming and hiking. There had been the requisite hot dogs and hamburgers. And beer. There had been lots of beer.
Some of the boys (at what age did they become men, she wondered) had taken their girl friends off into the woods and meadows that surrounded the lake for extended periods. They had returned with leaves matted in the girl's hair and grass stains. Later some of the unattached boys had gotten quite fresh with several of the girls. Beer, she'd thought, as she watched from a restroom window. She'd gone in to pee, but mostly to get away from the group. She really wasn't having much fun.
Cries from one of the girls, 'Stop that' and 'Don't' had made her look out the window. Carla didn't know any of them well. She'd just gone along on this picnic because, frankly, she didn't have anything else to do, being new in town.
Through the small window she watched as one of the guys held a girl tightly. "Let me see," he slurred as he tried to slide his hand under her knit top. She slapped him away any number of times. Apparently having heard the commotion two others had arrived. They began to join in with juvenile taunts while preventing the panicked girl from going anywhere. Helplessly she finally relented. In frustration she said, "Take your hands off me and I'll let you look. Look, that's all. Understand?" Even from the distance between her and the girl, she could hear her heavy, panicked breathing.
One held her by the hips restraining her from behind while looking over her shoulder waiting for the show. "OK," she said again, "just look. Don't touch," she told them with her hands on the hem of the short top.
She looked at them now apparently reveling in their anticipation. Quickly pulled her top up. She was almost in profile as Carla looked through the window. No bra, just bare skin would greet the boys. She saw her jerk the knit top up. Her breasts were jerked upward along with the top. They fell, but just as quickly as she had raised the top she pulled it down again denying any of them what they had demanded. "That's all," she said as she turned to leave them.
Carla could tell that the girl had shared in the flood of beer. She almost fell as she attempted a quick getaway. "Oh, no," it was a chorus of disappointed male voices. They easily cut off her escape. One held her arms high as she squealed and twisted to avoid what was now inevitable.
Her tan top complemented her dark skin as did her black shorts. She continued to struggle, but her giggles gave her away. Her top soon rested on her shoulders looking like the tan top of a turtleneck sweater, except there was no body only the neck. Like most of the girls today she wore no bra.
She stopped struggling. She had lost. She was being held shirtless, arms aloft. Now the boys had what they had demanded. She stopped giggling.
One touched her breast tentatively. She recoiled, but didn't scream. She only twisted about, back and forth. Her acquiescence to the first seemed to give the others permission to join in. Her breasts bounced evocatively as she twisted and squirmed trying to avoid them. Small cries of fear replaced her giggles when her top was pulled over her head and tossed around by the boys.
From where Carla stood watching, her nipples appeared just slightly lighter than the almost black circles they protruded from. The girl's cafe au lait skin glistened with sweat as the rays of the setting sun highlighted her bare top.
"Give me back my top," she begged trying to cover her breasts with one arm while reaching for the top with the other.
"You can have it back in class tomorrow," the boy holding it high retorted. "I'll see if the professor can guess whose it is. If he gets it right, you can have it back."
Dumb, thought Carla. What a jerk.
The girl gave up. Released, she turned and trotted covering herself to another of the remaining girls and got a towel to cover herself.
What a bunch, Carla thought again. Perhaps I'd better get going before this gets out of hand. She went into a stall. As she pulled her shorts down she looked at her legs and closely shaven pussy. She had nice skin, she thought. I wonder if any of them think I'm attractive. Her thinking was so clear that she wondered if she had said it aloud.
She left the stall and washed her hands. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she wondered again. Am I attractive? Slowly, almost against her will she pulled her own top up. Yes, nice skin. Only a few blemishes here and there, and they weren't bad. She looked at her bra. It wasn't attractive, really. Just an old bra to wear someplace like this where it didn't make any difference. No one would see it.
She pulled her top down. She could see the white bra through the knit. Not much, but probably she was the only girl there wearing one. What would happen . . .? She took it off and put it in the large beach bag she was using as a purse. She looked in the mirror again. Could anyone tell. Would she show through the knit of the white top. If she looked, she could see her dark nipples. Better not.
She turned to put the bra back on as the door opened and two girls walked in. She nodded to them and walked out too embarrassed to be caught rearranging her clothing.
The sky flamed with reds and yellows as the sun continued its journey. Soon it would be dusk, then dark. A number of the couples had already left wanting to get home before dark. When she realized that the couple who had driven her out had left, several of the boys had volunteered to drive her home. She felt very uncomfortable.
She stood outside the restroom for a moment, then walked slowly toward the fire. She suddenly felt quite out of place, even lonely. The boys were talking among themselves and drinking more beer. She heard a car start, then the crunch of tires on the gravel of the parking area. Someone else had left.
She sat by the fire, alone. One of the guys sat beside her offering an open beer. "How do you like it here," he asked hopefully breaking the ice.
"It's nice," she said breathing in the clear mountain air.
"Actually I meant Colorado generally, your new job, the university, and all," he corrected.
"Oh," she exclaimed, embarrassed at misunderstanding his question. "I'm lonely." It slipped out. She tried to recover but he was already following up.
"That's too bad. I'm glad you came out on our little picnic or whatever this is," he said waving his hand across the landscape.
"I'll be OK," she said still embarrassed. With nothing more to say she sipped at the beer. She hadn't wanted a beer, but here it was giving her something to do rather than talk.
She stared at the lake. She hadn't looked at the boy who had given her the beer. She didn't even know which one it was. She was too embarrassed now to hazard a quick glance.
"I watched you swim. You're pretty good," he said still struggling to start a conversation.
"Thanks," she replied. Now she looked at him. Good looking, he had caught her eye earlier. She didn't know what to say further. Her look revealed none of the interest she had in him. She had never been outgoing. Making friends had always been a problem. Now that she wanted to make friends with this man, she didn't know how.
"Well, I think I'll be going," he said starting to get up. He moved slowly giving her a chance to maintain the conversation and keep him at the picnic. "I heard that you have a ride home. See you in class," he said in parting.
She looked back at the lake, but when she heard a car start and roll through the parking area, she began to panic. By saying nothing, she'd given up an opportunity to go home. She could have left, but she was stuck here with a bunch of boys that were none too sober.
She looked around at them. Five boys. Where were the girls?
She looked for the girls, but didn't see any. She stood quickly and went back to the restroom. It was empty. Was she the last girl?
She went back to the blankets spread around the campfire. "Where are the others," she asked. She hoped it was a nonchalant question, but she was beginning to get concerned.
"Honey, you're it," one replied.
"I'm 'it'? You mean the rest have left? Must be time to be going," she said hoping someone would jump up to take her home.
"Nah," he said. "Sit down."
