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And what would happen if I stopped?
Chapter 6
Nariana
Being the youngest in my class sucked. Not only had I been the last to get the lesson about puberty - although mine had been a lot more comprehensive than most of the other kids' - it also meant I was the last to grow up. Amerlee had talked to me about hair and breasts, but most of the kids learning with me were at least one year older, if not more. We weren't being trained based on our age, though. Our year was a measure of how long we'd been in the priesthood.
It was our fourth year when they stopped separating boys and girls for everything. I was almost thirteen. Some of the girls in my class were pushing sixteen. Ofcourse,the boys didn't look at me. Not unless they wanted to laugh. When I'd gone to Jamik crying, he'd promised me that it would get better. He said there was nothing wrong with hating it, but he hoped that I'd remember how much it hurt too. That way, I'd never make someone else feel bad for not being at the same place I was.
Instead, I focused on my agility courses. There, I had the advantage. Being younger meant that my body was a little more pliable. When it came to manners and style, I focused on the rules instead of the outcome. Mathematics was boring but easy enough, and I learned how to love reading. Amerlee helped with that. It started with one single book. The story had been a simple one about a girl trying to find her dog, but I couldn't make myself stop reading it. The one after that a story about two orphans who decided to make their own family. The kids in it were about my age.
It was the third one that had me hooked. It had kissing, and quite a bit of it. When I finished and handed it back to Amerlee, she wanted to know which book I liked most. Naturally, I said the last one. She told me it was called a romance novel, and assured me that she had plenty more. Between my classes and the evening studies, it took me about a week to read each one, but I couldn't help myself. A few times, I even forgot to sleep because they were so good.
At some point, I began to forget about my parents, my long-lost siblings, and even the shock of my surrender. Those were things from my childhood, and I was more focused on my friends. Mostly just one. I noticed him for the first time in fourth year, but it wasn't until the fifth that he finally noticed me back. Like me, he was younger than most, weaker than the rest, and made good grades in our classes. Unlike me, he was shy.
My fourteen-year-old body had finally decided to grow up, and I was more than happy to flaunt it. Amerlee's lessons on clothing helped me make the most of what little I had. With my long, dark hair and pale brown eyes, vibrant colors looked best, and we'd only been forced to wear black until everyone had a mentor to help them get proper clothing. I, however, had something the other girls didn't: lingerie.
Just like Amerlee had promised, Jamik was very good at picking out underthings. He wouldn't let me wear the same sorts that the older priestesses did, but lace was acceptable. So, when all of the older girls began to undress for the bath, they had on white cotton under their clothes. Proudly, I worked off my shirt to reveal the gorgeous purple lace of my bra. When I shimmied my pants over my hips, the bottoms matched. I didn't really have the curves to fill them out, but none of the boys seemed to care.
Ciella did. She was the oldest girl in our class, and the one all the boys wanted. Huffing loudly in disgust, she made a point of looking me over and then shaking her head.
"Who'd you fuck to get that?" she demanded.
I scoffed. "Haven't you been listening to your style instructor? The stuff on the outside is only part of the outfit."
A quiet voice spoke up. "I like it."
I looked over to see Anver with his hands over his crotch. He'd been smiling at me a lot lately, and I kinda liked it. I also knew what it felt like to try to hide my childish body. Feeling my cheeks getting warmer, I continued to undress, completely ignoring Ciella as I folded my pretty lace bra and panties on top of the rest of my clothes. Then, grabbing my towel, I walked brazenly toward the communal bath.
Anver didn't immediately follow. I'd managed to wash my hair, scrub my skin, and find a place to relax before he finally appeared. This time, however, I made a point of looking. He was almost fifteen, but had already started to trim the hair that grew in places hidden by his pants. His arms were lean and his belly soft, nothing like the older priests, but he had an infectious smile. There was also the thing between his legs.
Cock, dick, phallus, or even penis. All of those were terms for it. Every boy was a little different, and Amerlee told me it was natural to look. She said that the more I saw, the less distracted I would be with them. When Anver made his way into the water, his was soft. That made it little, although boys didn't like it when we used that word.
"Don't," he said, catching me gawking.
I giggled. "You looked at my lingerie, so it's fair."
"I like your lingerie," he countered.
I gestured for him to turn around, then grabbed a scrubber and started washing his back. "Amerlee says it's the most important part of what a woman wears."
"So are you going to follow the Path of the Body?" he asked.
I could only shrug. "I dunno. It seems a little unfair for them to ask us to pick before we know what it all means. What about you?"
He sighed. "I want to be a guardian."
"Even though they put a ring on it?"
"Mydick," he said, glancing back to grin at me. "It's ok to call it that, Nariana. And sure. I mean, guardians are the ones who watch, right?"
To prove his point, he glanced over at the older kids in the corner. One of the boys was sitting on the edge with his feet dangling into the water. Another was playing with him while Ciella kissed along his back. Another four or five kids lounged around beside them, each one watching the show. It wouldn't go past touching, not without us all getting a lecture - because someonewouldtell - but this sort of thing was normal at their age.
I sighed and turned back to Anver, but he heard it. "What?" he asked.
"I hate being the youngest."
"Why?" He held up a hand, asking me to wait, and then dunked himself. Wiggling his fingers through his hair, he turned around to look at me. "We'll be nineteen on our Choosing night. Ciella will be like twenty-two. That means that by the time we're allowed to follow our Path, she'll already be past her best years."
