“Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Noland,” Molinara said.
“Yeah, drop the towel, queer, I wanna see what’s so special.” Richards tugged on my towel but I pushed him away.
I didn’t know what to do. I was scared, embarrassed, and physically afraid of these taller, more aggressive kids. I tried to ignore them and get on with dressing. But there was the issue of the towel. I’d have to take it off at some point. I opened my locker and pulled out my cords and shirt. I felt another, stronger, tugging at the back of my towel and then it slipped down to the floor. I tried to cover myself, what Mother called, my privates, but Molinara’s arm reached around and restrained me. The boy was strong. It was no use. They were now staring down at my penis.
“Pretty small,” Richards said.
“Yeah, not much you can do with that,” the bully from Twelve Angry Mensaid. “Even on a good day.”