As Hugh went silent and stared off into space obviously interacting with those crazy screens, I clenched my hands against my blue jean clad legs, trying to keep from trembling. Going to school to get a degree was literally my entire focus in life at the moment. And, honestly, I’d just thought that high school was difficult. College was beyond. I was so stressed all the time just trying to keep up with my course load. If it was really possible to somehow magically get smarter, I almost had to do it. Any cost was justified, no matter how big.
The words “embarrassed” and “naked” kept ringing through my head, though. Surely, he didn’t really mean that.
Even if the payoff justified whatever he was going to ask of me, I wasn’t sure that I could actually do it. The cost might just be higher than I could afford.
A blue box popped up.
Okay. That was better than I feared. I mean, it wasn't ideal. I'd be showing Hugh a piece of my clothing that nobody but me normally saw, and it would be embarrassing as all get out. But I wasn't showing a truly indecent part of myself. It wasn't any worse than a bikini top, not that I ever wore one of those.
As I was girding my courage, another box popped up.
I told Hugh about the new quest.
"Awesome," he said. "I received something similar and was hoping you'd get it, too."
All this system nonsense was far beyond me, so I dismissed that box. When no new ones appeared, I clenched the bottom of my shirt. "Ready?"
He looked ready. Eager. Excited.
That made me feel ... good in a way. I'd rather that reaction than apathy or disgust or something. At the same time, it somehow made me feel even more nervous, like both of us were acknowledging that I was about to do something shameful, something worthy of embarrassment.
"If you don't mind, not quite yet," he said. "There are a couple of other things I'd like to test."
"Sure, I guess."
A short time later, there was, you guessed it, another pop up.
"From the fact that you're obviously reading something," he said, "that must have worked. How many XP?"
I told him.
"Not bad," he said. "Your first two quests will get you to Level 2, and this will get you a quarter of the way to Level 3, all without showing anything really ... you know."
Just my undies. My bra and panties. Something I would never had even considered showing to a boy before today.
"Next thing," he said.
After a short while, though, he said, "Error message. You can only have three open quests."
I opened my mouth to ask him what task he'd tried to propose for me, but I quickly decided that I really, really didn't want to know.
"Are we finally ready?" I asked.
God! I sounded like I wanted to do this, like I couldn't wait, when, really, I was just anxious to get it over with.
He grimaced.
"What?" I asked. "What?"
"My guess is that you're going to have to lift up your shirt and show me your bra, right?"
Yeah. No duh.
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"I don't know that, though," he said. "What if you could flash an empty room? Or what if I was in the room but not where I could see you? Or if I was right in front of you, but closed my eyes or looked away?"
I hated tests. Standardized tests, class tests, these tests, it didn’t matter. Hugh, however, seemed to relish them, and seeing as how this affected him as much or more than me, it was hard for me to say no. Reluctantly, I agreed.
He stood and went into the restroom, closing the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked, I pulling the bottom of my shirt up to my neck.
Nothing happened. No blue box. Nothing.
I called him back in the room and told him the result.
"That wasn't completely unexpected," he said. "Sounds like the system maybe didn't even register it as an attempt to complete the quest."
The same thing happened when we tried the other ways with him behind me and with his eyes closed and with him looking away. Same result.
"Well, I can't say I'm completely surprised," he said. "It would have been much better for you, though. Sorry."
He didn't look sorry. Or disappointed. He looked eager.
"It's fine," I said. "Can we finally get this over with?"
Hugh nodded, his eyes wide.
This time was for real. I took in a deep breath and let it out. And hesitated.
I was sitting on my bed, and that position kind of made my stomach - which really was flat, I swear - kind of crease in an unattractive manner. Considering that my breasts were barely B-cup, I wanted every advantage I could get.
I stood.
"Here goes," I said.
Pulling the hem of my shirt up to my neck with Hugh watching was probably the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life. I had literally never been so embarrassed, wantonly showing myself off like that. And, as soon as the shirt had moved far enough to reveal my small chest encased in an ugly, utilitarian skin colored bra to him, I let go, and the shirt, unencumbered by the kind of large protrusions that it seemed like every other woman in the world had in abundance, fell back down.
A blue box popped up. Finally.
Really? Really? I wanted to cry.
Once I'd calmed down a little, I relayed the message to him.
"At least it told you how the fix the problem," was all he said.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Or something like that. I really had no choice but to do it again.
Slowly, my trembling fingers raised the shirt up to the bottom of my neck, and I started counting. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi, trying not to rush. Each tick seemed to last an eternity, hours at least, as his eyes devoured my exposed skin.
I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I couldn't believe that I'd agreed to do this, much less pretty much insisted upon it. The reward had better be worth it.
As soon as the last "i" following the ten passed my lips, I let go of the shirt, and it fell down to cover me once again.
A bunch of blue boxes appeared in succession. I had leveled up.
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