Brad's New School Uniform                    by: Emma B

 

Brad Allen was not a good boy. He was only sixteen, but had already driven his parents, his teachers, his fellow school pupils, and anyone else who knew him to despair. It was difficult to see why. It certainly wasn’t his parents’ fault. His father, in his mid thirties, and a police officer for twenty years, was a well-educated man, with a good sense of what was right and what was wrong. His mother was only a couple of years younger than her husband, and although she had once been a teacher, had now given it up to look after her children. As for his brother and sister they were not like Brad at all. Stuart was four years younger than Brad, and a well behaved, if slightly introspective boy who kept himself to himself apart from his chess club and computer club friends. Tracie was eighteen, and had begun to attend the local university to study English history and literature. She was very attractive, with long auburn hair, and big hazel colored eyes, but she never dressed particularly provocatively, and was more liable to be found down the local coffee bar than the local nightclub.

However for some reason Brad had gone bad. His father thought it was the loud rock music that he listened to, or maybe those skateboarding punks that he hung out with. His mother thought that it was her fault. That maybe if she had paid a little bit more attention to him, or been a little bit more strict with him he would not have turned out to be the unkempt bully that he was. Whatever the reason Brad was becoming increasingly difficult to control at any level. However the school that Brad attended, or should that be occasionally attended, had just had a new principal appointed, and Brad’s parents lived in hope that this man with a good track record of running a disciplined school, albeit an all girls school, would be able to discipline their wayward son.

The day that would have a marked effect on Brad started just as any other day had started for Brad. Loud music started blaring from his radio alarm clock, and the sunlight began to shine through his seemingly permanently drawn curtains. Brad stumbled out of bed, and headed for the shower. After a quick wash, and an equally quick comb through his long light brown greasy hair, Brad pulled on an old black t-shirt with the name of his favorite thrash metal band Dog Food emblazoned on it, and a pair of old jeans and leapt down the stairs.

"Brad honey! Don’t forget to do you chores before you go!" His mother called after him.

"Yeah, later!" Brad called back, and headed straight out the door, skateboard in hand. He wished that his mother would stop bugging him. They had nothing in common, and she was always getting on his case.

Back at the house Mrs. Allen shook her head in despair. Taking a couple of tranquillizers from the medicine cabinet she filled a glass with water and gulped them down quickly. Shaking her head she wondered what was to be done with Brad, and how things were ever going to change for the better.

Clearwater High was a good school. The former principal had been an ineffective man. He had been more concerned with surrounding himself with prestige and power than with supporting his teachers, or caring for his pupils. The school had run into disrepair, and gangs of youths had bullied those pupils who really wanted to learn. With the arrival of Mr. Ford things had begun to change. No one knew about him. Sure there were plenty of rumors, but no one knew for sure which were true, and which were false. Apparently he had helped run a former school that had been over run by gangs, and turned it around to one of the county’s top schools for exam results and discipline. However there was some confusion as to what it exactly was that he had done, but the gangs had disappeared, along with the graffiti and other problems. Thanks to Mr. Ford the walls of Clearwater High were now clean of graffiti, and most of the bullying had stopped. As well as this a new chemistry wing had been built, and a rapidly growing theatre and musical program had been introduced. Teachers had begun to take an interest in their work again, and parents were thankful that their children were now able to achieve above their previous expectations.

Brad wandered up the school steps. He was in no hurry to get to class. He was too busy thinking what to spend the money that he was about to get from the younger kids that he bullied, on. He thought that he better make a token appearance for registration though. Mr. Ford had warned him that if his current behavior continued that there would be dire consequences to pay. Brad assumed that he meant expulsion, after all what else could the old coot do to him? He couldn’t afford to be thrown out of yet another school. His father had warned him that if he was expelled that he would have to leave home, and he was just to lazy not to let his mother do all his cooking and cleaning. In spite of this he reckoned that he could get away with just showing his face, and then heading down to the mall to spend his ill-gotten gains. After all the kids were too frightened of him to ever tell anyone.

Just then he spotted his quarry. A spotty little twelve-year-old called Duncan Kennedy. Brad recognized him as on of his brother’s chess club friends. Brad shook his head. It was as if the kid deserved to be bullied.

"Hey Kennedy!" He shouted, "I want a word with you!"

Duncan’s turned to face his persecutor, nervously pushing his horn-rimmed spectacles further up his nose. "Oh err, Hi Brad." He murmured nervously.

Brad loomed over Duncan and grabbed him by his checkered shirt, "Where’s my money goofball?" He snarled.

Duncan struggled slightly, "Well, err it’s like this Brad. I’ve been err, I’ve been talking with my chess club buddies, and err we’ve, we’ve decided that we are not going to give you any more of our lunch money." He stammered.

"Give me my money now!" Brad said lifting Duncan from the pavement by his shirt.

Duncan swallowed nervously. He was much smaller than Brad, and it took the normally timid boy a lot of courage to stand up to him. "No Brad I don’t think that I will." He said.

With that the school bell rang, and Brad realized that he had run out of time if he was to check in for registration. "I don’t have time for this you stupid little nerd." he said and drawing back his fist he sent it flying into Duncan’s face knocking the poor boy to the hard concrete.

Duncan sat up, picked up his broken glasses, and stemmed his bleeding nose with a small white handkerchief. Watching Brad run off into the school he was determined that that would be the last time that Brad Allen would ever beat him up.

Twenty minutes later Brad was already out of school. Ten minutes after that he was already at the mall checking out the music stores for the latest Dog Food album, the sports stores for the latest boards and gear, and his favorite place the arcade for the latest beat em up. Brad was a violent boy, and there was nothing better in his mind than listening to loud rock music whilst playing an arcade game. Brad spent the whole day there. Losing himself in satisfying his most base impulses, and thinking only of himself.

Had he waited a few minutes longer before bolting out the school door, he would have seen Duncan Kennedy, dried blood around his nostrils, walk to the Headmaster’s door and knock on the door. If Brad had actually stayed in school he would have heard the announcement for him to report to Mr. Ford’s office. He would also have been there when Mr. Ford came looking for him, and this in turn would stopped Mr. Ford leaving the school in the care of the vice-principal and driving off in his car.

At about 5.00pm Brad reckoned that it was time to head home. He has spent all the money that he had, and if it hadn’t been for Duncan Kennedy he would not have had to steal the fleece top from the big sports store. It was a risk, Brad realized, but it had been worth it. Why should he pay for stuff, when he could get away with stealing it? Turning the corner of Cherry Orchard Lane, Brad stuffed the stolen fleece into his rucksack and opened the door to his house. He was just about to bound up the stairs so as to avoid his whining mother when her voice echoed from the kitchen.

"Brad is that you?" She called.

He was about to ignore her request when another voice came from the kitchen. This one was male, but it was not his father’s. Brad hesitated for a moment, and realized that it could only be one person; Mr. Ford his school principal.

"Mr. Allen I suggest that you come here at once!" It repeated.

Brad realized that the game was up. That Kennedy kid must have told the principal about the incident that morning. He couldn’t believe that the nerd had had the nerve to do that, and he was sure that he would make him regret that he ever had.

"Ah Mr. Allen." Principal Ford said, as Brad entered the kitchen, "I am sure that you realize why I am here."

"Hey look Mr. Ford." Brad began to say.

Mr. Ford put his left hand up as if he was stopping the traffic, "Hold it right there Mr. Allen. I will hear no excuses. You may have been able to get away with a variety of crimes at you previous schools, and with your previous principals, but I can assure you that that will stop now."

"Okay, okay big guy. So expel me!" Brad answered back.

A thin smile came to the principal’s face. "Oh no Mr. Allen" He said shaking his head slowly, "OH no. IT is not going to be that easy. You WILL continue to attend Clearwater High. You WILL attend with how shall we put it? Ah yes, you will wear a kind of school uniform."

"You can not be serious man! Mom?" Brad cried in protest, looking to his mother for support.

"I’m sorry Brad." Mrs. Allen answered wiping her eyes dry, "Your father and I have reached the end of the line with you. I just don’t now what else to do. I’m sorry but you will follow the principal’s instructions exactly or it won’t be throwing out of the house, or being expelled. It will be a juvenile detention center for you."

Brad hung his head in defeat. If truth were told Brad was a coward at heart, and the idea of being incarcerated with a bunch of kids who would probably be a lot tougher than him, did not appeal to him. If wearing a shirt and tie instead of his usual t-shirt and jeans for a couple of weeks was what it took to placate Mr. Ford and his parents then he could stand that. Besides he could always pummel the Kennedy boy for doing this to him, and that would give him some sort of satisfaction.

"Okay." He said, "I’ll wear some shirt and tie for you."

Mrs. Allen made a movement, as if she was going to say something, but Mr. Ford placed a hand on her left arm, and shook his head gently. Brad gave her a look of puzzlement,

"Mom, is there something that you’re not telling me?" He asked.

Again Mr. Ford stopped his mother before she could say anything, "Well there was one thing Mr. Allen. When you attend school tomorrow you will report to me outside the school entrance, where I will take you to the new chemistry wing is that clear There you will help with a series of tests to help curb your violent behavior."

"The chemistry wing? Why I thought that all I had to do was wear some uniform!" Brad protested.

"You will report to the chemistry wing is THAT clear?" Mr. Ford replied icily.

Something in Mr. Ford’s voice told Brad that he wasn’t joking. Brad had already pushed his luck, and he knew that he had got off lightly, so he merely nodded his acceptance and headed to his room.

The next morning Brad was awoken by the shrill sound of his alarm clock. Looking over at it he saw that the digital time read at 6.00 am.

"Boy." He thought to himself, "Mom must have set that stupid thing early."

He was about to roll over and go back to sleep when his door swung open and his mother marched in. "Come on Brad get up!" She said.

"Yeah Mom in a couple of hours." Brad replied lazily.

"No Brad now!" She replied.

Brad looked up at his mother. There was something different about her this morning. Gone were the teary eyes, and the haggard look, and in their place was a new determination. It made Brad feel just a little bit afraid.

"Okay mom." Brad said stumbling out of bed, "Where’s my new uniform?"

"All in the good time." Mrs. Allen replied," For now I want you to take a shower. Use this shampoo for your hair, and this bottle of shower gel for the rest of you. Make sure you follow the instructions fully, and lather properly because I’ll be checking after." She said handing Brad two simple bottle marked in shampoo and body wash.

"Okay Mom. Don’t have a cow!" Brad muttered.

Before he could even take a step towards the door Mrs. Allen slapped him roughly across his face. "Listen here Brad. There will be no further cheek from you is that understood?" She snapped.

Brad could do nothing but stare at his mother. It was the first time she had ever hit him, and the first time that she had ever spoken to him like that. Brad began to feel worried by his mother’s new behavior and hurried to take his shower.

He looked at the bottle of shampoo. Apart from being in a simple bottle with no markings on it except for the label, it looked and smelt like any other type of shampoo, maybe a hint of herbs, but that was it. As for the body wash it was much the same. The liquid was white and slightly thicker than other shower gels he had used, but he thought nothing of it, and after shaving what little stubble he had, started to first wash his hair, followed by the rest of his body. He followed the instructions exactly, still worried by his mother’s behavior. He wasn’t concerned for her, merely for his own well being, but then he had always been that way. The bottle of shower gel stated that the user showed lather fully, spread evenly over their body, and leave for five to ten minutes. After ten minutes Brad’s body was beginning to burn slightly, and Brad hurried to wash the body wash off before it really did burn him. To his utter horror as the hot water washed the thick liquid away all of his body hair was washed away too!

Mrs. Allen sat in her kitchen drinking a hot cup of coffee. She felt much better after seeing Mr. Ford. At first she had been shocked by his suggestions to curb Brad’s behavior. However they had talked for sometime after Brad had skulked off to bed, and with documentation from his previous schools, and glowing testimonials from some very high up public officials she had become convinced that this was the only course of action left open to them. Of course Mr. Allen had come in from work, and had to be convinced, but if anything had seemed more eager to go ahead with Mr. Ford’s suggestions than she had. Suddenly there was a loud scream from the upstairs bathroom, and Mrs. Allen could not help but smile a little.

It was not long before Brad appeared in the kitchen, wrapped in a towel but soaking wet. "Is this someone’s idea of a joke?" He screamed at his mother.

"What do you mean Brad?" Mrs. Allen said, trying very hard not to laugh.

"That stupid lotion you gave me has washed all my hair away!" Brad continued to scream.

"Well Brad unless you want to wake your brother and sister I suggest that you lower your voice, but yes I knew what it would do, so did your father." She responded.

Brad glared at her, "So this is your way of getting back at me for hitting some little nerd is it?" He said bitterly, being very careful not to raise his voice.

Mrs. Allen looked at her son standing there angry and dripping wet. For a moment she felt sad. She realized the humiliation that he was about to go through, and thought for a moment of explaining everything to him. But then she thought of the previous night’s conversation with the principal and Brad’s father. Of how she came to understand that for Brad this really was his last chance before sinking into a permanent life of crime and violence.

"I’m afraid not Brad." She almost whispered.

"What?" Brad said, completely thrown by his mother’s response to his accusation.

Mrs. Allen rose from her chair, and took Brad’s hand, "Follow me, and it will all become clear." She said, and led a visibly bewildered Brad to her bedroom. As they entered his mother’s bedroom Brad couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. The reason for this was in front of him. Neatly laid out on the bed was a very small, tartan pleated mini skirt, a crisp white blouse, a bright red jersey, a pair of semi opaque white tights, a padded white cotton bra with lace trimming and matching white panties, and a pair of very shiny black girl’s shoes with a slight, but certainly noticeable heel, and shiny silver buckles.

He turned and looked at his mother, "You can’t be serious!" He said, too stunned to be angry.

"Don’t worry. I’ll help you dress." She said.

"No way." Brad mumbled shaking his head.

"No way!" He said again. This time more emphatically.

"You will Brad, or Mr. Ford has a court order ready to commit you. Please understand we are all trying to help you." She said.

Brad turned to argue with his mother, and saw the look of determination in her face. There was no way that he could bring himself to dress as a girl, and yet he could not face the idea of being locked up with dangerous criminals. He felt utterly trapped, and cautiously took one step towards the clothes. He looked at his mother, and knew in that moment that he had reached the end of the line.

It took sometime for Mrs. Allen to dress Brad. First of all came the panties and padded bra. Followed by the white tights, blouse, and skirt, and finished with the bright red jersey and black shoes. After dressing Mrs. Allen sat Brad in a chair and brushed his hair. Brad stood up, a little awkwardly at first thanks to the one-inch heel, and looked in the mirror. What disturbed him the most was how normal he looked. In front of the mirror stood a rather plain looking girl. Brad had no make up on, but his mother had combed his now strawberry blonde hair with a central parting, and it now fell, grease free, gently onto his shoulders. He gazed at himself, fascinated by what he had become.

"Come on Brad you’ll be late for school." His mother said, interrupting Brad’s train of thought.

Brad look round startled by the sound of his mother’s voice. Then the reality of his situation hit him, and he started to panic.

"No mom! Please!" He begged.

"Come on Brad the quicker you accept this the sooner it will be over." She replied.

"But the kids at school will kill me!" He protested.

"Oh no they won’t." Mrs. Allen said, "Mr. Ford has measures taken to ensure that you will come to no physical harm. Do you doubt that he can do this?"

Brad was terrified, but something told him that his mother was right.

"Okay mom." He replied meekly, and followed her downstairs, and out the door to the waiting car.

The journey to school was an uneventful one. No words were spoken. Brad was too terrified, and stunned at his situation, and Mrs. Allen seemed to sense this, leaving her son to his think about the day ahead of him, but noticing with a wry smile how Brad played with his long hair, curling, and uncurling it round his index finger. As they pulled up to the school gates Brad saw Mr. Ford waiting for him. Stepping carefully and nervously out of the car he walked up to the principal, and the beginning of a new school day. If Brad had know what was to happen on that fateful day, and the impact that it would have on his future, maybe he would not have left the car. Because Brad’s new uniform was merely the beginning…..

 

To Be Continued?

 

 

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