I'm a Stripper At An All Boys Boarding School? How Do I Keep This A Secret?

"Darcy, your up next."

Kristina came up from behind me, taking a seat at the vanity next to mine. The walls backstage were painted a bright pink color, lined with makeshift vanities that consisted of simple tables and large mirrors. The mirrors were lined with large lightbulbs, which was the main source of light in the dim room. Each table was covered with a potpourri of cosmetic products, sprawled across each girl's table in an organized mess. My hands hovered over mine now, searching till I found what I was looking for in the pile of identical jars. I grabbed a brush, and dusted the powder onto my cheeks. When I was finished, I closed it quickly, searching again for my desired tube of lipstick. I found it already in Kristina's hands, and she stood from her chair to apply it to my lips.

"Beautiful," She said, "You're good to go." She smiled at me in the mirror and I returned the gesture, but it wasn't genuine. Beside me, Kristina looked like a magazine cover: her long, shiny blond hair was arranged into a short do reminiscent of the 1920's. Her blue eyes were lined with a thick liquid liner and adorned with thick false lashes, her lips in a bright red and her cheeks glowing with a warm pink shimmer. In the mirror, her petite body was clad in a bra covered in pearls, which wrapped around her body and down to her waist, where they covered tiny shorts. Her legs were long and skinny, accentuated by her tall heels. Next to her, my brown hair was in wild curls, covering my pale skin and accenting my green eyes. My face was caked in cosmetic products, skin piled high with powder and eyes messily coded in black liner and dark eyeshadow. My body was more full then Kristy's, covered in a black corset with fishnet stockings that ended at my thighs. I opened my mouth to answer, but I could her the manager's voice announcing me over the loud speaker, which was my queue to go on.

My career choice, although it had its cons, did a good job of paying the bills.

I stepped onto the stage and began my routine, listening for the music under the sound of customer's whistles. Fuego, as the club was called, was a relatively classy joint for strip clubs in the area. It was a tiny place at the edge of town, in the corner of a small shopping center including a dry cleaner and a pawn shop.

At the age of sixteen, I was the youngest girl here, working for about eight months. Paying the bills at home had originally been my father's responsibility, until the stress of my mother's departure took form in drug and alcohol addiction. Since then, he's been relatively useless, and I've taken up multiple odd jobs to become the bread winner. Until I discovered this career option, which pays more then any combination of waitress gigs around town.

I slipped down the pole that rose from the ground, taking a twenty dollar bill from someone in the audience and tucking it into my bra.

Of course, one can only work at a strip club for so long before some high schooler comes in with his friends and recognizes you. I suffered two weeks of death glares and whispers at school, until I decided it wasn't worth it anymore and left. Since then I've been working full time, and I've found that my income is enough to pay the bills and still have a little left over for myself.

The music ended and I held my pose, clinging to the pole and leaning my back over, so the audience had a clear view down my shirt. The lights dimmed and I exited the stage.

"Hey Darcy, great job. You earned it." Robby, the manager said, handing me a white envelope. I nodded and thanked him, squeezing my way through the crowded backstage of girls in stilettos and racks of sparkly clothing. When I reached my dressing table, I flipped the lights off, grabbing my clothes and piling my things into my purse before heading home.

~~~

The elevator in my apartment complex had long been broken, but I climbed the four flights of step fairly quickly, listening to music as I walked. When I reached my floor I shuffled through my bags until I found my keys. At a bench opposite the doors, an older man I didn't recognize sat in a stiff gray suit. I didn't pay him any attention, just grabbed the mail from the doormat and walked in.

"Hi Dad." I called when I walked in, beside the fact I knew he wouldn't answer. I dropped my things as I walked through the hallway, pouring myself some water from the sink and going to my bedroom to change. I threw on a pair of sweatpants, tying my hair into a bun and putting on a T-shirt.

I retraced my steps, shuffling through my things until I came across the mail. I took it to the kitchen, flipping through the envelopes as I looked for my paycheck. I found the white envelope and counted the money, shaking my head when I learned it was fifty dollars too much. Standard Robbie.

The rest of the mail was mostly bills and a spare magazine from a place I barely shopped. I opened what I presumed to be a bill: an crisp beige envelope sealed with a red seal.

To The Parents or Guardians of Darcy Williams:

We have recently been informed that your daughter has chosen to discontinue her education at her current highschool. It was requested that we review your acedemic records, and we are pleased to offer you a full scholarship to Oak-Hollow Private Highschool-

My brain went into overdrive as my eyes darted over the words, two times, three times until I was sure I read it right. I remember Kristy telling my something about Oak-Hollow, Her younger brother goes there. Its a private boarding school on the edge of town.

I thought it over quickly, trying to decide if it was plausible. It's location on the edge of town would let me keep my job, but going to school again would limit my work hours. There was a knock at the door and I but down the letter.

"Hello," It was the older man who had been sitting outside my room. "I'm Daniel Prosicoff, Dean of admissions at Oak-Hollow Private school for-"

"Ohmigosh!" The word slipper out of my mouth before I had the chance to think. "I mean, I would love to come to your school!" I was vaguely aware how unintelligent I sounded.

"We are in the middle of our school year right now, but because you just recently dropped out of school and your grades are very high, we are willing to accept you in the middle of the year." I grinned, imagining the possibilities of starting at a new place.

"When would I start?"

"Tomorrow."