Obsessed

One: attack of the jockstrap

 Think of this as just the intro, it'll get better, hopefully, in the next chaps.

One: attack of the jockstrap

~~~~Kaycee's P.o.v.~~~~

The boy's locker room was, thankfully, empty when I walked in after the final bell of the day had rung. The football team had already been practicing for twenty or so and seeing as they had a game tomorrow the couch would be keeping them busy for awhile longer. Perfect.

The bundle in my school bag seemed to get heavier and heavier as I maneuvered my way around the discarded gym clothes and other unmentionables to get to his locker.

“So gross.” Couldn't these guys learn some manners and pick up after themselves? I get that they're not exactly the brightest tools in the shed, but still. Its not that hard to put their clothes in the appropriate places, is it? Their mom's probably make them do it at home.

Biting my lip at the sight of the lock on Ryder's locker, I groan. What could he possibly have in there that was so important? His pride? Family jewels?

I look over my shoulder as I grab hold of the lock and pull. The loud 'snap' of the metal breaking has me cringing, but no one came running in so I'm guessing no one was close enough to have heard.

I open the locker door and wrinkle my nose as several pairs of women's underwear com tumbling out. Either Ryder was a closet cross-dresser or he kept the underwear of all the girls he slept with. I'm really hoping its the former.

I grab a pen out of his locker and pick up and pair of panties to move them out of the way when a flash of paper mixed in the red lace catches my eye.

Shelby Dawson.

Ryder's slanted scrawl is printed on the piece of paper and I shake my head. He puts the name of the girls on their underwear? What boys does that?

I guess I found something worse than Shane's wall of shame after all.

Twenty pairs of underwear later his locker appears to be clear and I sigh. Why would you keep someone else's underwear? I'll have to ask Shane about that one.

I put my bag on the bench behind me and as I'm turning back around I see a flash of green in the dark interior of the locker. Leaning forward I push one of Ryder's shirts out of the way and squint at the little book on the ground when something lands on my head.

I let out a squeak of surprise, reach up and pat around my head, frowning when I feel material that feels strangely like underwear. I tug on it, muttering to myself when it gets caught on my ponytail. “Damn it.”

After several tries to get whatever it is out of my hair I walk over to the mirror. The minute I catch sight of the white... thing in my hair I scream. I can't help it, its instinctual.

“Get if off, get it off, get it off!” Shaking my head, I can't stop myself from jumping around as I pull on the material, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my scalp when it pulls free and I toss it across the room. “What the hell was that?” How had that even ended up on my head in the first place?

“That, Kaycee, would be a jockstrap.” Shane laughs at my expression when I spin around to find him leaning against the door with a cigarette between his lips. Where the hell did he come from?