I’m going with each chapter in a different thread because I already started doing that so might as well keep going.
Chapter 3 - Leaving Orbit
In just a few moments, I would be out of my safety zone. No more simulators, this was going to be the real thing.
One second, I was in my home world’s atmosphere, the next, I was in space. No longer in orbit, I saw stars all around.
My co-pilot crackled on the radio, “Let’s hurry this up, I gotta take a leak.”
Amidst the chuckles, I radioed back, “That’s why you’re wearing a diaper.”
The radio fell dead silence. Everyone was now starign at me.
“What?” I asked. “Astronauts wear diapers… Right?”
As it turned out, I was wrong, and my heart was broken.
None of the others were wearing diapers, and I felt embarrassed that they knew I was wearing one.
At this point, as I sat in the middle of an endless void, I realized my insecurities were bringing my racing heart back into reality.
I was motionless in bed. My subconscious had reminded me of something I’d forgotten. I’d have to wear my Pull-Ups to school. As my heart slowed down and my nerves vanished, I began to mentally plan my outfit so as to avoid revealing my new underwear to my classmates. Changing was probably going to be difficult; not that I wet myself that often.
I’d wet my Pull-Up in my sleep, it was a strange feeling to simply wake up with it in that state, as opposed to experience it as it happens. I decided that I liked it, and I was officially woken by my mother.
She informed me that I was smelly, as was my sister. We bathed quickly and dressed. I’d over-exaggerated how difficult it would be to hide my Pull-Ups, any pair of pants would do.
Breakfast, then car.
As we were dropped off, I took my first steps on this new world. I would no longer be the girl who pees her pants, just the girl who secretly wears Pull-Ups. As long as it remained secret, it was an identity that I was more than fine with.
I got ready for the day and sat alone while everyone visited their friends. Mrs. Seaver sat at her desk as I cursed her for giving me this obsession that has led to my new apparel. I don’t care if its true; you never tell children that astronauts wear diapers if there is even the slightest chance it will screw up one of them. I should make a case.
Despite my attempts to blow up my teacher with my mind, she stood in front of the class and began the day.
Math, reading, lunch, recess.
It was unusually chilly for the south west, but still warm enough to go outside. It was one of those stand around and chat days of recess.
In the entire third grade, two boys were able to witness my preschool antics and look past it towards the trait-less character that I was.
Milo was one of the tall kids in the class, a blond in a large family. His other half was Nick, who liked soccer and the cute girls in the class.
On this chilly day in Arizona, Nick and Milo decided to park their conversations around me and my rose bush, where I used to run and hide before wetting myself.
“Weird thing is,” Milo explained, “it’s on every weeknight except for Friday. If we missed the one on Thursday, but part two of the one from Wednesday was on Monday, what happened on Thursday?”
“I told you I don’t watch that show anymore,” Nick said. “It’s a baby show.”
Milo was not loosing the case. Exhibit A: “You used to have the book bag.”
Counter point: “Everyone had the book bag,” Nick stated, “even diaper girl and the boy who always gets sick.”
That comment got my attention. At first I simply assumed my Pull-Ups had been showing. But my jacket had been hiding them. I decided to investigate their discussion.
“Who?” I asked.
“The fourth grader,” Nick answered. “The one who came back from having chicken pox and then got lyme disease the same day.”
“That kid catches something all the time,” Milo prepared a list that I was more than willing to interrupt.
“No,” I broke in, “the other one.”
“Diaper girl?” Nick asked. I nodded, “Yeah she’s in second grade.”
Milo explained, “My brother says she used to pee her pants a lot last year. Then one day she showed up in a big diaper. Now they call her diaper girl.”
I was blown away. Someone had apparently gone through he exact same experience I had. Milo’s choice of the phrase “big diaper” would explain why I hadn’t been caught in my paper thin Pull-Up, which I had been to scared to wet while at school.
“How come I’ve never heard of her?” I asked.
The boys shrugged. “My brother says once that happened she kind of became a loner,” Milo explained, "No one talks to her.
“Why you so interested, Abby?” Nick asked.
“I think I want to meet her,” I said.
“She’s the last person you want to be seen talking to,” Nick added.
“Nick’s right,” Milo said. “We think you’re cool and whatever, but you’ll never hear the end of it if you’re seen talking to the diaper girl.”
“Then you’ll just have to stop me,” I said as I got off my diaperd butt and and ran off in a random direction.
“Abby!” Milo hollered, “You don’t even know who or where she is.”
I stopped and turned around to see that they had chased after and caught up with me. “Well?” I asked.
They looked at each other and sighed.
“She’s the ginger girl sitting under the tree over there,” Milo pointed. I followed his point to the big tree by the soccer field. A fair skinned girl with red hair sat scratching on a notebook.
“Thank you,” I said as i walked towards the girl, ignoring the boys’ words of disapprovall.
I walked straught up to the girl and, without wasting any time, introduced myself.
“Hi, I’m Abby,” I said. “What’s your name?”
Even if this wasn’t the girl who pees her pants and the diaper girl, that still sounded a bit weird.
Despite the insanity of the moment, she looked up at me and said, “Claire.”
I took a breath, nodded, and sat down across from her. For a second it was awkward. I truly didn’t know where to go from there, or where I wanted it to go for that matter. She stared at me, holding her notebook and pencil, which prompted me to ask, “So you’re diaper girl?”
Her eyelids forced her eyeballs out. I cursed myself in my head. I meant to ask about what she was drawing. I broke the ice instead.
“Uh… Yeah,” she said.
“Do you know who I am?” I asked, full of our common infamy. She shook her head, and so I explained, “Well sometimes I pee my pants.”
“Oh… Okay,” she said.
Suddenly, Milo and Nick were surrounding us.
“Sorry to bother you,” Nick said.
“But we’re just going to take Abby away from here right now,” Milo added.
“Guys,” I shushed them and yanked at their pants until they sat down.
“What are you doing?” Milo asked in disdain. “We cannot be seen with the diaper girl - no offense - people will talk.”
“People only talk because she sits alone,” I said, “It draws attention to her. If all of us are here, no one will look twice at us. We’re just a group of kids at recess.”
They both considered it. For a second.
“Okay,” Nick agreed, “But just because we can get away with it doesn’t mean we want to. Why would we want to hang out with diaper girl?”
“Her name is Clair,” I said. “And why do you want to hang out with me?”
They looked back and forth at each other. Milo shook his head, Nick gave him assertive eyes. Claire was about ready to leave.
“Because,” Nick said, “Milo likes you.”
“What?!” I nearly shouted. Claire let out a chuckle. Milo knocked Nick over.
“He means I used to,” Milo said."
“But not any more?” I asked.
“Well I was gonna tell you,” Milo explained. “I was about to tap you on the shoulder when you sprayed pee all over your shoes.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what to say,” I said.
“It’s over,” Milo said. “I still think you’re all right, but it’s still kind of gross.”
“Well thanks, Milo!” I said.
“Go on,” I scolded. “If you think I’m gross then you wont want to hang out with two of us!” I turned to Claire, “I just thought it would be nice to talk to her is all.”
“Go!” I turned back, barely able to see Milo through the tears in my eyes.
“Come on, Milo,” Nick stood up, and took Milo with him.
“Uhm… What was that about?” Claire asked.
I wiped my eyes. “Nothing… So tell me… Why exactly do you wear diapers?”
She was hesitant at first, but Claire eventually opened up. Her mother had died, leaving her alone with her father. Apparently it broke her in so many ways, and she just stopped making it to the bathroom. The school told her father to send her in diapers.
“That’s quite a story,” I said.
And then, she turned the tables on me; “So why do you pee your pants?”
I didn’t know who to answer that. I wanted to keep my space fantasies to myself, but I’d feel bad about making something up when Claire had gone through so much."
I was save when the teachers began calling everyone back. Recess was over. I’d lost two friends, and made another.