Gynophagia Chronicles: Samantha
Tuesday, September 15, 2218, 6:38 AM PDST
1371 Beagle St, San Ramon, CA
Narative Reconstructed by Peter Howard
Don’t forget Fineas! She almost forgot him! How could she? Da had given him to her when she was only four and on her way to her first day of school. Her first day away from Mum! That was eleven years ago, and he’d been with her every day without fail ever since! How could she even begin to forget him? Fineas was, Da had told her, one of God’s special angels that would watch over her when she was away from Mam and Da, and keep her safe, and for eleven years he’d done just that! Lydia hadn’t needed one anymore. She’d thrown her Gillean away two years ago and had ridiculed her fraternal twin sister about keeping Fineas it ever since. Strange how Lydia was gone now…
Elizabeth Anne Lynch picked up the miniature pink teddy bear her Da had dubbed ‘Fineas’ and held him in her slender arms to her miniature bosom and slender form tightly. She savoured the warm feeling that rushed over her every time she did so. Her new surroundings made the comfort Fineas offered even more pronounced. It was, after all, the second time in ten months Elizabeth had found herself in a strange new home and a strange new place, Fineas being the one true constant in her newly chaotic life. Lydia was gone, and Da... was he really still Da?”
Elizabeth regarded Fineas face to face with pale blue eyes large on her heart shaped face. Her small mouth puckered pouty lips to kiss the little pink fuzzball as the pink streak in her hair fell down the left side of her face and over him.
“I’m so sorry I almost forgot ye,” she apologized.
“LIZZY!” Mam called out Elizabeth’s hated nickname. “Hurry, Luv! Ye’ll be late!”
Elizabeth pecked Fineas with another kiss and stuffed him into her oversized, book laden satchel, sling that over her shoulder and headed downstairs.
Da was there, reading the local paper, the Amador Herald. His annotated bible sat next to his morning tea and bowl of porridge.
“I had me a nice chat with Miss Emerson,” said Mum through pretty red painted lips curled into her sweet smile. Da liked red, so it was the only colour Mum wore on her lips. “She and Miss Masters are expectin’ ye early, so eat up! They have some things to tell ye about ye’re studies…”
Elizabeth nodded, and ate her porridge and drank her tomato juice as quickly as she always did, brought her dishes to the sink and kissed Mam on the cheek.
“Be sure an’ come home straight away,” Da said. “Nooo lingerin and noo covortin’ wi’ boys! Ya hear me, girlie?”
“Yes, Da,” Elizabeth told him. He was still angry over Friday’s incident and Elizabeth still felt the trauma of Sunday’s. Except for Fineas, no one had seen her cry.
“Be time to go, Lizzy!” Mum commanded. “ Off wi’ ye now. There’s a good girl.” Mam offered her cheek again and Elizabeth pecked it for a second time. Da took his on his rough stubbled cheek, and Elizabeth made her way out the front door, and their new home on Beagle Street in San Ramon in this oh so strange land called California.
She wore her conservative gray pleated skirt and blue cardigan well on her slender five foot frame. Had it not been for the skirt and the length of her hair she might have been mistaken for a twelve year old boy, something she was keenly aware of. Da only allowed her light makeup, and Elizabeth made the best use of that she could to express her femininity. The pink-purple streak in her hair was only partly that, but it was also a little rebellion. Da hated it. She credited that streak with any attention she received and lent no credence to her elfin features that tended to turn heads. Lydia had been the shapely one, and Elizabeth had enjoyed her sister’s shadow, it offered protection.
The Nouveau Art Deco brownstone that was Franklin High School’s main building loomed large only fifteen minutes into Elizabeth’s trot down the empty streets of the cats and dogs neighbourhood. She saw not one other soul.
Up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors Elizabeth found a vacant foyer with an over large trophy case devoid of sporting trophies. In their place were various awards for journalistic excellence, something Franklin High School had become known for.
But Elizabeth's chosen field was Politics. Her main goal was to gain an 'in' as a speech writer, which she could parley into a larger profile. It was her love of the zinger, as Americans called it. Those brutal one liners that cut the opposition to size were Elizabeth's speciality. Not that anyone had ever used one of her speeches, but hopefully, with Miss Emerson's help, that might change. Even so, Elizabeth could not help but be dubious about what help Miss Emerson could provide. In Tacoma it had been worse. Clinton High School was not known for its academics at all, but for its sporting prowess. Elizabeth had been forced over the course of the last semester to engage a correspondence tutor on the East Coast through email. It had been tedious, but the effort had earned Elizabeth a great deal of confidence in her work. Her grades to date were at the valedictorian level, and she had no intention of letting that slide. It would displease Da, and Elizabeth had new insight into what the depths of his displeasure could bring.
Elizabeth found the School Secretary, a handsome Eurasian woman named Lisa in the principal's outer office and introduced herself. The pretty brunette sat wide eyed for a moment, probably eyeing Elizabeth's pink hair streak... Mum was her only defender of it, Da had wished it gone months ago...
"I'm looking for Miss Emerson," Elizabeth tried to diminish her native Irish brogue, not quite succeeding.
"I'll... yes, I'm Lisa," said the woman who's name plate on her desk made that obvious. "Please to meet you, Elizabeth... uhm... you’re home room will be Miss Master's, Miss Emerson, unfortunately, has a full homeroom class. I'm sorry about that. But you'll have full access to Miss Emerson. They're both here, by the way, waiting for you in the Teacher's offices. Uhm... down the left wing third door on the right, it's marked 'teacher's offices'."
"Thank you," Elizabeth said as Lisa picked up the phone and punched a few numbers. Elizabeth made for the hall door.
"Francine? Yeah, she's here! You are not going to believe it when you see her!"
And that meant what? Elizabeth wondered what was wrong... it had to be more than her pink stripe... or was it? Was it a local fashion thing? Elizabeth made her way down the hall as if heading toward a gallows, and hesitated before knocking on the door.
The woman who opened the door was tall and thin, with little more chest than Elizabeth herself sported. She had a friendly face and kind eyes under light brown hair.
"Elizabeth Lynch? I'm Miss Masters. Come in!"
Elizabeth entered and followed the woman's lovely bottom into the classroom sized office containing several cubicles. Her lovely rear was hugged by her otherwise loose black polyester slacks. It came as high as Elizabeth's stomach, so tall she was. Elizabeth had always enjoyed bums, from when she was a young child. They had always fascinated her. Flat, bubble, wide, thin, round, square, whatever, it mattered not. It was Elizabeth's one feminine asset below her neck, and she hoped people admired hers as much as she admired everyone else's. Form hugging polyester was always nice to look at. If a bum had any bounce at all to it, it would bounce in polyester. Miss Masters had only a slight bounce, but it was a very pleasant bounce to observe. Pleated skirts were the absolute worst.
"April," Miss Masters led Elizabeth to a cubicle where a woman with a thin face, short, curly, honey blonde hair wearing horn rimmed glasses perched on an extremely pointed nose sat. "This... is Elizabeth Lynch."
"Oh..." Miss Emerson said with a surprised look, another indictment on my appearance, Elizabeth thought. But the woman's lips which started off forming an 'O' broke into a pleasant smile. Her sleepy, hooded eyes smiled as well as they signalled an absent mind, but a studious one.
"I'm Miss Emerson. I'm very pleased to finally meet you in person, Elizabeth!"
"Thank you," Elizabeth said, neither smiling nor frowning. She offered her hand and smiled when Miss Emerson took it.
"Welcome to Franklin High. Why don't you sit down..."
Elizabeth took her seat and was painfully aware that the tall woman she'd followed in crossed her arms and leaned against the short cubicle wall.
"You're academic record is spectacular. And I've been impressed with the work you've turned in over the past two weeks. If you keep this level of study up you'll not only be able to graduate early, but you'll easily surpass our best students here, boys included. And we already have some very, very good students!"
"According to the mission statement you submitted,"Miss Masters broke in. "I hope you don't mind that Miss Emerson shared it with me. You intend to break into politics as a speech writer, is that still true? And you'd like to eventually serve as a chief of staff to an elected official..."
Elizabeth nodded. She had no illusions about ever being elected to office herself. She was too short and too small breasted. Elected females were universally tall and well endowed world wide, wherever they were allowed.
"Those are very sophisticated goals," Miss Masters added, and paused for a moment as if waiting for a reaction. When she received none. "Well, I'm not sure if Miss Emerson explained to you that she and I tag team on Journalism Studies here. We think, and you may not agree, that you would benefit from some training in this area. But we believe that this would not only expose you to real politicians in the field but also provide opportunity for political analysis of politics in real time in the real world. We're in the mid-term election season. The whole focus right now is on the Congress and some Gubernatorial races, such as the California race. You'll be directly exposed to political speeches, campaign strategies and policies over the course of the next few months in a way that might be impossible next year."
"We've come up with a plan for you," Miss Emerson said. "It's a custom curriculum we've been working on and, our piece of it is that it will have the added benefit of improving our Journalism Studies program. If, that is, you're willing.... and you allow us to convince you to finish the full year, all the way through June of next year... so, what do you think?"
Elizabeth sat a little off kilter, her mind racing. Finally she found the proper question.
"I'm not sure I'm quite understanding," Elizabeth said. "Ye said I'll be working as a journalist in order to become better acquainted wi' political persons... but, is it not true tha...t, politicians often see journalists as the enemy?"
"They often do," Miss Emerson admitted.
"Soo... haw is it this... I don't understand how this can work for me... how..."
The two women went into tag team mode again, doing their best at selling their idea that Elizabeth would focus exclusively on political careers and campaigns. It was, after all, election season... the springboard that offered Elizabeth was quite clear in their minds, that was obvious. It was not so obvious to Elizabeth. An 'in' as a Journalist was not any kind of 'in' Elizabeth saw as useful. She'd be the consummate outsider, rather than a potential ally. The alternative, however, only offered the tedium of the current political science course which offered only repetition and tedium. The choice was obvious. Take the risk... April Emerson and Francine Masters were beside themselves with obvious elation when Elizabeth relented.
"Okay!" Miss Emerson said. "Your first assignment will be to visit with the Mayor of San Ramon. He's running for the Eleventh Congressional District as a Democrat against the Mayor of Livermore to replace the current occupant who is retiring. You are to write an analysis of his campaign strategy and how it connects to both his record and campaign platform. It will be published in the local paper assuming you keep to your usual level of work. He's expecting to see you Wednesday evening." She held out an eight and a half by eleven yellow card-stock assignment sheet marked "Lynch 1.A."
"Interesting," said a towering, handsome and voluptuous blond woman who's breasts threatened to burst out of her beige blouse and hips did the same to her pleated brown slacks. "Is this the other prodigy?"
'Other Prodigy?' Elizabeth repeated in her head. Behind the woman appeared another, much shorter blonde, this one obviously a student from the freshness of her lovely face and the blue and gray uniform. She had blue, blue eyes and was somehow slender and gave the impression of voluptuousness at once. Her perfectly oval face had a serene little glossy smile and otherwise wore only as much makeup as Elizabeth herself was allowed to wear. Her fair complexion needed none of it. She was just naturally lovely.
"Elizabeth, this is our Principal, Miss Farmer."
"Very nice to meet you, Miss Lynch. Miss Emerson has been raving about your work for two weeks. I was getting a little tired of hearing about it, but I suppose I'll be getting more earfuls from now on. See to it they remain positive."
"Yes, ma'am. I do try not to misbehave."
"That's good. Anyway, this is Grace Wells. She's going to see you through callisthenics and to Miss Master's home room."
"Hi," Grace Wells gave a friendly little wave and a bigger smile.
"Okay," Miss Farmer said. "You two better get your shapely little rumps in gear if you want to beat the crowd into the showers... Grace, make sure she gets a bathing suit, I don't think we've issued her one yet..."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Wait," Miss Emerson stopped them. "Elizabeth, what is in that massive bag?"
"My books and things..."
"Books? You don't have your books electronic versions on your e-pad?"
"I don't have an e-pad."
"That's interesting. April, didn't you send Mr. and Mrs. Lynch a list of required items? Anyway, I'll have Lisa send one to Miss Masters. It'll be waiting for you when you get to class. Your parents will be billed for it.... now go... git!"
Grace Wells smiled and took Elizabeth by the hand, and hurried her out of the teacher's offices and into the now bustling halls filled with students who were all, apparently, seniors.
"Where are you from?" Grace asked.
"Ireland," Elizabeth said. "But I spent the last ten months in Tacoma in Washington State."
"Wow! I've never met anyone from Ireland before! Welcome to California!"
"Thank you."
"We have to go get you a bathing suit, that'll be Miss Bauer downstairs. Don't worry, one size fits all."
"What do I need a bathing suit for?"
"Swimming laps, silly!"
Swimming? I have to swim??
"Unless you want to do laps naked, but I don't think we're allowed to do that yet. Don't worry. Miss Bauer has a big stash of suits. Is Ireland as green as they say?"
"Aye," Elizabeth said. "Not unlike the Pacific North West. 'tis not dry at all the way it is here."
"The hills are green in summer. This way."
Down a wide, dingy staircase Elizabeth followed Grace with the flow of girls into an enormous, low ceilinged locker room. Girls were already stripping down to bare skin and carrying what looked like a tiny blue rag in one hand and a swim cap in the other. Their bottoms rippled prettily as they hurried in a single direction to the sound of showers. Their faces ran from handsome, to pretty to lovely, and some were even beautiful. They came in all shapes and sizes of nubile loveliness from fit to svelte to willowy to waifish (like herself) or some combination thereof, and their bums were all beautifully formed with no two alike.
A loud crack sounded from behind Elizabeth. When she turned she saw a handsome, stocky woman almost half a head taller than Grace, and built like a body builder. In her hand she held what Elizabeth would later learn was called "Bauer's Swat."
"Miss Bauer," Grace stopped the mannish coach from bellowing whatever command she was about to hollar. Aside form her swat, she carried a clip board and an air of no nonsense. "This is Elizabeth Lynch. She's new, and she needs a bathing suit and a cap."
"Yeah, forgot we had a newbie coming..." Miss Bauer seemed nice enough in the way a crocodile might be nice. She produced a suit and a locker combination and number for Elizabeth as if by magic and sent them on their way so she could sound off with her gloriously loud voice. "Come on, ladies! We haven't got all day! You're not in a spa!"
Grace found Elizabeth's locker only a few away from her own and left Elizabeth to get undressed. The very idea of stripping off in front of all these amazing bodies sat not at all well with Elizabeth, but there was nothing for it. I have to swim? In Tacoma denuding one's self of clothing in front of other students was never required, and in Ireland, it would be unthinkable! But it was also Elizabeth's boyish form and tiny bosom that seemed completely inadequate for the company. Even as she removed her blouse, Elizabeth felt the sting of humiliation.
No help for it, though. Elizabeth finally decided to strip off and get it done with. She kept her eyes closed as she removed her brazier and kept them closed as she finally pushed down her last garment down her legs and over her feet. Then she remembered she had not shaven in two days. Two days of stubble shadowed her pubic mound whereas every other girl here had perfectly hairless and smooth skin everywhere below her neck. Could it get any worse?
"You ready?" Grace said when she returned, completely glorious in her bare skin. Her body was nothing short of spectacular. Large breasts that were round and pointed with slightly large areolae that were just noticeably puffed, and nipples that looked tasty and succulent. Her slender waist ran to flared hips that were slender, but their roundness gave her an hourglass figure. Grace's cleft resembled a baby's bottom under a lean belly and over shapely legs that were obviously strong though slender as well. She was what Elizabeth would call Fit, but tending toward Willowy.
Elizabeth's fears were enhanced when she saw Grace's eyes glance at her own crotch for only an instant. My God she must think me a pig.
"Come on," Grace said smiling again. "This way. What we do is wash off with soap, put on our suits and caps in the shower, then we go down, swim four laps and quick walk four laps. No jogging. Damages breast tissue, you know..."
"Every morning we swim?"
"Every single morning..," Grace said. "It'd be okay if it weren't for these slimy suits... but at least the pool's warm. Seniors go first, then the juniors come in. Each of the rest of the grades use the pool all day one day a week."
Every morning! We swim every morning! Elizabeth could would not ask herself what else could go wrong... she grabbed her cap and her suit and followed Grace to the shower line.
"I like your stripe!" A girl behind Elizabeth said in some variant of the famous American southern drawl.
"Stripe?" Elizabeth turned to see yet another well formed naked beauty behind her. This one had darker brown hair that seemed a bit brassy.
"The pink stripe in you're hair," she said. "I like it."
"Lee Anne, this is Elizabeth from Ireland," Grace introduced.
"Oh! Wow! I'm only from Tennessee. What brings you to California?"
"Me Da... my father works for TWA. He's a jet engine mechanic, and they sent us here."
"You shave, right?" Lee Anne asked.
"I do," Elizabeth admitted with embarrassment.
"You should try waxing. It's a lot less work. Believe me, I had to learn the hard way. Everyone in Tennessee, they don't go bare like the girls do here. Last year, I tried shaving, and all I got was razor burn and itch... waxing is sooo much better!"
"Ah don't have any at home, an' Mum... in Ireland 'tis the same as where you're from. English girls wax... well, except the Ladylings. Irish don't ever do that..."
"You can come to my house and I'll help you out with it... if you want..."
"Head's open," Grace said.
"So, Gracie," Lee Anne said. "You got rid of the florals?"
"Oh yeah."
"Why? They were so beautiful!"
"Everyone was bugging me to see them... it got old fast. And they were fading anyway form the chlorine in the pool, so I washed them off completely last night."
"What Florals?" Elizabeth asked, not truly interested, but being involved in a conversation that took the focus off her embarrassment was at least a little relief.
"Gracie had these amazing designs dyed on her skin for some wedding... you should have seen them! Who's wedding was it?"
"Jake and Ashima Tucker's."
"I don't know them," Lee Anne said. "Friends of yours?"
"My Daddy works for Jake," Grace said. "He was the best man," she added proudly.
"Did he go naked too," Lee Anne asked, grinning.
"Nooo!" Grace swatted Lee Anne.
"Gracie's dad is... haawwt!" Lee Anne said with a mock swoon. "So are her brothers!"
"You have brothers?" Elizabeth asked. Having A brother was uncommon enough, but Brothers? Plural?
"Two brothers, seven sisters. My house is always chaos when we're all together."
"See that girl over there? The redhead? That's Jenna, Gracie's sister. She's a true redhead down to her fiery nature. But she's actually a lot of fun to hang with if you can get past that."
The redhead was, in fact, a flaming redhead with skin as perfect as Grace's. Her form was more slender than Grace, but with the same small waist that gave Jenna her womanly form. She wore breasts that were... perhaps smaller than average, but still round and pointed with the same slightly puffed areolae and succulent nipples Grace sported. On Jenna's breasts, those nipples looked big.
But Elizabeth, who, in the face of all this nubile loveliness, had till now resisted the urge to stare at anyone (other than the sea of beautiful bums) had her eyes drawn elsewhere toward an emerald flash. When her eyes darted over the green flash was no longer visible. Where it had been, or had she been hallucinating...? .., was a picture Elizabeth would not soon forget.
The girl she saw looked small and tall all at once, but she was only a very few inches taller than Elizabeth's five foot height. Her hair was dark with slightly lighter highlights that were also dark gave a cascade effect to her mane. In profile, as Elizabeth first saw her, the girls had a straight, but small nose over an equally small mouth that was not quite full... but might have been. Her brows were more straight than arched and her complexion was peaches and cream fair. In her nakedness her skin seemed to glow, outshining all around her. From her slender rib cage protruded breasts that were neither small nor large, but round and pointed, similar to Grace's, with likewise slightly puffed areolae and erect nipples. Her hips were ever so gently flared from a tiny waist framing a cleft that looked like a very young girls. Her amazing bottom was as an upside down heart and rippled ever so slightly as the girl legs that just fit her form perfectly. She was willowy, svelte and quite graceful the way she moved, even with the saddened expression she carried, and slightly hunched shoulders, as if there were some burden that weighed upon her.
Some other girl greeted her, and when she looked up there was that shock of green. Impossible emerald or aquamarine, Elizabeth could not decide which it was, looked sideways and flashed a smile that was bigger than her small mouth should have been capable of.
Then those same eyes came to meet Elizabeth's gaze, and in the shock of attention, Elizabeth was caught as a deer in headlamps for longer than she should have been until those green eyes grew large and frightened and, if possible, even more breathtaking. Elizabeth actually gasped as she tore her own eyes away.
"That's Samantha," Lee Anne said.
"Shower's open," Grace announced.
Elizabeth was thankful to be following Grace deep into the shower, away from that poor girl who's privacy she'd invaded. But she soon was overtaken with another sensation. The shower water was freezing cold, and caused her already tight nipples to harden further and her skin to go to goose flesh. Elizabeth copied Grace and took liquid soap from the dispenser and washing herself with chill induced vigour.
"What was that about Sammie?" Grace asked.
"Elizabeth and Sam had a moment," Lee Anne replied to Elizabeth's horror. "Oh, don't worry, Elizabeth. Everyone stares at Samantha at least once. It's okay. You're not the only one who's been caught in her spell."
"Spell?" Grace asked. "What are you talking about."
"Your sister, actually."
"You're talking as if she has designs on controlling everyone, or something," Grace said. "She's going through a rough time right now, so lay off!"
Lee Anne shook her head. "You're misunderstanding, Grace. She doesn't mean to be the way she is... she just is."
"Is what?"
"The most beautiful girl in School."
"She is?" Grace looked astonished. "Says who?"
"Uhm... like, Everyone!!!"
"They do?"
"Oh, come on, Gracie! Don't play coy about this! You know it as well as anyone."
"Uh... no..." Grace said. "I don't."
"She is very beautiful," Elizabeth said, and regretting it the moment the words came out.
"Well, so are you! I mean, you've got those huge eyes and heart shaped face... and Lee Anne's the classic southern belle right out of Gone With The Wind... I mean, I know Sammie's beautiful... but I'm her sister, I'm biased... you know..."
"Gracie," Lee Anne said. "Everyone thinks Sammie's the prettiest thing they've ever seen. There isn't a boy in school that doesn't want her and every last one of them is afraid to go near her! I know because they tell me so! You know Darren Maxwell? He took Jenna out only because he was going to try and get close to Samantha!"
"That's mean!"
"But it's true! He told me! You know me, Gracie! I don't gossip, and I'm only telling you!"
Grace made a face, rolled her eyes and stepped into her postage stamp sized bathing suit and pulled it up over her perfect body.
"Sammie makes every girl in school wish Lesbianism were legal," Lee Anne said to Elizabeth. "So don't fret about getting caught staring. Sammie's probably so used to it by now she's already forgotten it."
"I dare you to say that to Sloan Harding," Gracie said. "About the lesbian thing..."
"Gracie," Lee Anne replied. "Sloan tried to kiss me over the summer!"
"She did not!"
"On my honour as a southern lady! I swear!"
Elizabeth pulled up her own suit. Once it was on, she regretted it. The thing was new, clean and very very slimy against her skin. It felt perfectly grotesque.
"Sammie's got a boyfriend anyway," Grace said as the three of them padded out of the locker room and into the cavernous pool room.
Elizabeth looked down a full story to see three Olympic sized pools separated by the columns that supported the building above. Those pools filled her with dread. The girls below were already doing their laps travelling speedily in the water from one end to the other and boosting them selves out once there.
"Boyfriend? Someone actually had the guts to ask her out? Who is it?"
"Some guy named Michael... Giglioni or something..."
"He doesn't go to this school, does he?"
"I think he's older, like in his twenties... Sammie wrote it all down and let us all read about him yesterday. I haven't met him yet."
"You sure she didn't make him up?"
"Yes! Rebecca Golding knows him. She told me this morning that he's very handsome and very rich!"
"That makes sense, actually," Lee Anne said, taking the lead of the three in line as the Grace and Lee Anne continued to chat away and seemed to lose interest in little Miss Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, for her part, could only stare with a sense of impending doom at the water that took one step closer to her every time the coach’s whistle sounded and another row of girls dove in.
"That's Sloan Harding," Lee Anne pointed out a lovely girl of mixed Hispanic and Caucasian parentage. But, to Elizabeth's personal horror, it was Samantha that again caught her eye. This time it was Samantha that was regarding her, but not with awe, or anything approaching respect. In those emerald and aquamarine eyes she saw something like pity. Elizabeth wanted to cry suddenly, but the whistle sounded again and Lee Anne dove into the pool.
She was up! My God, I'm up! I can do this... the coach's whistle sounded and Elizabeth did her best dive that was as gangly and ungraceful as any ever was. But at least the water was blessedly warm, and she began to swim. Too slow, though. Grace was behind her and would probably run into her if she did not go faster. Breaths were hard to take when you're trying to go fast. She should be halfway there by now, right? But it was only a quarter of the way down the pool and there were miles to go, it seemed. I'm not going to make it... I have to make it... God... help... I can't... God please..! As Elizabeth gulped for breath she saw some graceful form race along the edge of the pool and launch into a perfect arcing dive that seemed borne on wings... her head was completely submerged when whoever it was splashed in, but she was trying to gasp for breath and swallowing too much water to care anymore. But someone had her around her waist. Her back was against another body and suddenly her face again broke the surface. She coughed out as much water as she could, and gulped air into her lungs as well as her stomach.
"I have you! You're okay! You're okay!" said whoever it was.
Hands brusquely took Elizabeth's forearms and lifted her out of the warm water. How many hands? She was suddenly lying in someone's very strong arms, coughing sporadically.
"Room!" The woman holding her bellowed. It was Miss Bauer. Had to be. She rescued me... "A little room, please!"
"Will she be alright?" asked someone in the pool below her.
"She'll be fine. Glad you were paying attention, Samantha. Why the hell didn't anyone tell me the new girl can't swim?"
Canna swim.... thought Elizabeth. She turned her head toward the pool to see those wide, worried, impossibly green eyes looking up at her. Then, Elizabeth Anne Lynch threw up her breakfast.