10CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION

Ever since that first day after his first modeling class, I hadn't seen much of him. Even at school our contacts lessened, since his Mom had pulled him from gym class.

One Saturday night, my date cancelled at the last minute. With time on my hands, I stopped by Wayne's.

"One, two, three, four...Lift those legs. . .Get'em up, two three four..." blared through the window as I knocked on the door.

"Ron!" Rachel smiled over the din of a thumping disco beat. Wearing a pink spandex leotard, lavender tights and pink leg warmers, her milky white skin glistened with perspiration.

Standing there, I couldn't help but ogle her magnificent bust, well developed BEYOND her years! After a pregnant pause, I caught myself. "So. . .ah...Where's Wayne?"

"In the den," she shouted over the noise. "We're EXERCISING!"

"RACHEL!" Wayne whined from the other room as the music went dead. "Let's quit. I'm pooped!"

Attentively focused on Rachel's curvaceous body, I didn't notice Wayne enter the foyer. . .That is, until he yelped, "RON!"

I gasped back. "WAYNE! What the heck are you WEARING!'

"I...ah.. .It's...ah..." he stammered shamefully. Folding him arms across his chest, he uselessly attempted to hide the fact he wore an outfit IDENTICAL to his sister's!

"Oh, I get it! That MODELING training, right?" I grinned, trying to let him off the hook. "But aren't those PIGTAILS a bit much? Is that uni-sex?"

His pained glare switched to a relieved, doleful grin. "It's Rachel's idea. But thanks for understanding."

"Aren't plaits SO cute!" she gushed. "His hair's simply grown TOO LONG to hang loose during exercises. Believe it or not, Ron, Wayne actually tied them up all by HIMSELF!"

I didn't need to ask for verification. My friend's burning cheeks spoke volumes! I was speechless.

Rachel, with a self satisfied smirk, added, "See how well he's doing...before long, you won't even know what sex he is!" Then she skipped off to her room. Meanwhile, I followed a red-cheeked Wayne back to his.

But as the door closed, his breathing quickened and face twisted. He must've thought letting me in his room was a mistake.

BOSOM BUDDY -11

"So...ah.. .Ron. . .What's happening?" Tensely pacing the floor, he mysteriously hid his hands from my view. "You tell me, Wayne. You're the recluse!"

"It...it's my job, Ron. I. . .I can't help it."

While he flailed his arms, I noticed his hands glisten in the room's dim light. "Wayne, what's that crap on your fingers?"

"N...nail polish," he cringed, flashing shiny, clear polished fingernails at me. "Just one of the uni-sex things I have to do now. Rita makes me wear it all the time."

"Ecch!"

"I HATE what I'm doing!"

"Then QUIT, damn it! There's THOUSANDS of other jobs. Go to Junior College for a year or two, you won't have to be doing THIS!

Suddenly, Wayne collapsed atop his bed. Burying his face in a pillow.

"Come on, man," I soothed. "The world's not ending. Just give up this silly modeling stuff and. . .”

"I TRIED!" he blubbered. "But I CAN'T"

"Get off it! Sure you can, just..."

it's

"You don't understand. Mom won't let me!" Once he calmed down, Wayne explained. "Mom says just too good of opportunity to pass up. I feel like it's some kind of twisted punishment. I know that Rachel wants to teach me a lesson."

"What sort?" I scratched my head. "You're just trying to earn money to better yourself. What's their logic?"

"I don't know!" he woefully whined. "Mom says I've never finished anything I've started and that they are afraid I'm going to blow this modeling break."

"You can still quit. Tell her you've learned your lesson. Tell her..."

"I told her everything but it's not only her. . .there's that darn contract clause's screwing me over!'

Pointing at a stack of papers on his dresser, he winced. "Page 7, paragraph two! Heck, I've read it so much, I know it by heart! I've been being paid to train..."

"SO?"

"It says...'Give EVERYTHING you've made back?”” I gasped, reading the agreement. "So give it back."