And you say, "Hi!"

"I think I'd like to see you in some of those." Polly laughed. "I'd like to see what your idea of 'too sexy' is."

"It's 'too sexy' if boys mob you in the hall," Heather said.

"So far I've managed to avoid that," I said. "Unfortunately."

"You mean boys aren't falling all over you to ask you out?" Angie said.

"No, they're not," I said. "And I was very surprised about that. I thought when I filled-out so much that I'd have to beat them off with a stick, but they act like I've got cooties or something. I asked a couple of boys about it and they said that I intimidated them, that I would only be asked out by the strongest, most handsome boys at school."

"Gosh! That's hard to believe," Polly said. "I guess that means you need to get someone to introduce you to Steve Wojeski. He's like, The School Stud."

"Yeah," Angie agreed. "And good luck. I hear he only dates college girls."

"I heard he only dates centerfolds," Heather said.

"Well, I heard he only dates girls with really big tits," Polly said, then she put her hand over her mouth and blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean anything."

I smiled slyly and said, "I really shouldn't say anything — and you've all got to swear not to breath a word of this — but Polly is right." I waited patiently for them to figure it out.

"Wait a minute!" Angie said. "Wait just a damn minute! You mean you're dating Steve the Stud?"

"Well, technically we're haven't been on a date yet. But it's just a matter of time. We just got together a couple of days ago." I said, trying to be vague so they wouldn't connect Steve with my streaking story.

"No way!" Heather said. "What's he like? Is he nice?"

"Yeah, tell us! How did you hook up with him?" Angie asked.

I wanted to say, "It was very romantic how we met. He was horny, I was naked. It was a match made in heaven," but I managed to stifle the impulse.

"He just stopped me coming out of fourth-period English. We talked for a bit and he invited me to hang out with him and the wrestling team."

"The whole team? Girl, you don't believe in doing things halfway, do you? What do you do with the whole wrestling team?" Heather asked.

"We lift weights." I said. I thought it sounded strange when I said it. Apparently everyone else did, too. There was a long silence.

"You what?" Polly asked, like she didn't catch what I said.

"I go up to the weight room with them at lunch and we pump iron." That didn't sound a lot better, but I was committed to the story by this time.

Heather crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, "I get Mom to take me to the beauty parlor. I spend positively hours on my hair and my makeup. I wear nice clothes. And I get an occasional date with the vice-president of the Science Club. Obviously I'm doing entirely the wrong thing. If I want to catch a cute guy, I need to be down at the gym, pushing iron."

"Pumping iron," I corrected.

"Whatever!"

"Don't knock those Science Club guys," I told her. "They're going to be the ones with the high-paying jobs in a few years. Would you rather marry a geeky doctor or a hunky fork-lift operator?"

"Well, I'd like to date them both so I will know which one to pick," she said. "It looks like you're hogging all the hunks to yourself! It's not fair! Just because you're the prettiest girl with the best body shouldn't mean you get all the good-looking guys!"

"Thank you," I told Heather.

"Hunh?"

"Thank you for calling me pretty and saying I have a nice body. That was sweet of you to say. I appreciate it."

"Dammit, don't try to weasel out of this by being so... so... nice."

"Would you like me to tell you how to get a date with a hunky guy?"

"Yes!" Heather said immediately.

"Yes!" Angie agreed.

Polly nodded. They all leaned in to hear the secret.

"Here's what you do — now I got this from a couple of hunks who told me the secret, so it's the absolute truth — you walk up to the guy you want to have ask you out. And you smile and look right into his dreamy eyes. And you say, "Hi!""

"And... ?" Heather said.

"And that's it. That's the secret. If you sit at home and stare at the phone, nothing will happen. You have to go where they are and you have to act like you want to be asked out. And I don't mean flirting from across the room. I mean get right in his face and smile like you think he's the most interesting person in the room."

"But that's not how it's supposed to work," Heather whined. "They're supposed to make the first move. They're supposed to come to us."

"Do you want a date or do you want to be stalked by some loser who knows you're home alone?"

"OK, but if this doesn't work..."

"I think it will. But if it doesn't, what have you lost?"

"I'll be humiliated!"

"I doubt it. What's the worst thing he could do? Not talk to you? He's not talking to you now. Give him a chance. Heck, don't take 'no' for an answer. Guys can be shy. Ask him if you can copy the homework assignment from him. Heck, ask him if he likes oral sex. I guarantee he'll talk to you then!"

She still looked skeptical, so I said, "Tell you what — you try it. If the guy doesn't ask you out, I will introduce you to any member of the wrestling team you like."

"You've got a deal!" Heather said.

The bell rang and everyone grabbed their stuff and headed to their next class.

While we were crowding out the door, Polly put a hand on my arm.

"I meant what I said about seeing you in sexy clothes," she whispered.

"Then I'll wear something for you," I whispered back. "See you on Monday."

I had already promised myself that I would wear something sexy one day a week. I might as well do it on Monday and make Polly happy. Having someone actually ask made a big difference. I started going over possible outfits in my head. At Bambi's suggestion, much of my wardrobe was like hers — elegant, sophisticated, and very sexy. The things she wore to do the laundry in would stop traffic in any city in the world.

I thought of several things that I could mix and match to hit the note I wanted. A slit-sided long shirt designed to be worn with a g-string to show off my legs could work with a pair of spandex slacks. The 'country-girl' backless blouse could work with a mini-skirt instead of the wide-belt bottoms I had to go with it. If I couldn't decide on something I could always ask Bambi to dress me. In fact, that sounded like the best idea I had had all week. She had no shortage of fashion-sense and taste. And volunteering to be her fashion doll would be one of the nicest things I could do for her.

Math class seemed to drag by. Most of the day I had managed to avoid thinking about going home that afternoon and seeing what Bambi had done to the workshop. But now I was thinking about nothing else. When I did manage to take my mind off the workshop renovation, I remembered that Mr. Morton had also promised that my superheroine suit would be ready and I had something else exciting to look forward to, which only made things worse.

The last bell came as a great relief. I packed up my bag and almost raced to the parking lot to meet Neeka.

When we finally got home, she parked in my driveway and we dashed into the house. Bambi was downstairs reading the newspaper when we ran down the stairs and almost stumbled over each other in our excitement.

"Can we see it now?" I asked.

"Is it ready?" Neeka asked.

"Yes, it's finished. And yes, you can see it now," Bambi said. "Come with me."

As we walked down to the former workshop, Bambi said, "I think they did an excellent job. I am very impressed with the result. I wasn't too sure about your choice of dazzle-art for the walls, but I think it worked out much better than I expected. I think you will be impressed.

"I was able to get some more equipment for you from the company that we bought the weight benches and dumbbells from. It seems that they have turned going out of business into a business of its own. They handle the liquidation of stock of other fitness businesses that have failed.

"Of course I had to wait until it was substantially finished before the tech from the sheriff's office came over to install your radio. He was obviously curious about it, but I told him that I was sure Sheriff Foster would be glad to answer any questions he had. After that he paid strict attention to his job.