I'm a stripper, doesn't mean I'm a slut

Girls on top

PE class. Awesome. If I can't see how my day could possibly get any worse, PE would always be sure to look that gift horse in the mouth. On the plus side, James wasn't in my PE class. On the down side, Ashley and her group of minions were.

I stand awkwardly in the corner of the gym, watching the rest of the class chatter amongst each other, the guys wearing either tacky shirts with football numbers on the back or wife beaters, the girls all in skimpy little short shorts and T-shirts two sizes too small.

I tug subconsciously at my faded blue T-shirt that has gone through the wash so many times the material is beginning to feel like the fur on one of those soft toys that you've slept with too much.

Our sports teacher, Ms Simmons claps her hands to get the class's attention. "Let's look alive people, it's only Tuesday afternoon." She shouts. "Today we're going to practice our flexibility by doing a few basic gymnastics moves."

There were groans and a murmur of discontentment settled over the class.

"At least we don't have to run or anything." A girl mutters to her friend.

"Three laps around the gym to warm up!" Ms Simmons shouts.

"Damnit!" she huffs.

We did the laps, then came back to stand in front of Ms Simmons. "Now that you've all warmed up, we'll start with the basics. Ashley, come up here."

Ashley walks up to the front of the class, her blonde curls contrasting perfectly with her tight midnight blue T-shirt and little black shorts.

"Ashley here will demonstrate a couple of basic moves. As some of you may know, she's part of our aerobics and gymnastics team, and runner up state champion in the floor, beam and bar routine." Ms Simmons stated proudly. Woah, emotion in a sports teacher's voice other than anger or overall loudness. Never thought I'd live to see the day.

Ashley smiles, "Oh, I'm not that good, Ms Simmons. They were practically giving away the prizes at the competition that day."

"Don't be modest, Ashley." Ms Simmons smiles. "Now, could you show us a quick routine - something easy."

"Sure." She flashes everyone a dazzling smile, and begins. Her lithe body curls and flexes and twists in ways I never thought possible. She strides across the rubber mat laid out over the floorboards of the gym, seeming almost as if she were flying. She flips and leaps and runs, doing impressive contortionist moves every now and again.

I am grudgingly impressed. Okay, she's good. But I've seen better (a girl called Emma back at the strip club who can hold herself up on pole dancing pole with only her thighs rings a bell). She finishes after an especially complicated looking move, her arms above her head in a 'V' shape, breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed rosy pink.

"Excellent, Ashley. Excellent. Absolutely outstanding." Ms Simmons congratulates.

Ashley smiles sweetly, standing up and brushing off her hands. "It was nothing." She waves off the compliment with her French manicured hand.

"Okay, class, now, it's your turn to have a go." Ms Simmons turns to the class. "With practice, you might even become as good as Ashley here. Now, gymnastics is a good form of exercise and - "

I zone out after that, examining the chipped sky blue nail polish on my fingers. Better redo them soon, but what colour? Pink? No, too girly. Green? Too environmentally friendly. Ooh, maybe I should do that cool nail art thing where -

"Kayley!"

"Huh?" I say, dazed at the sudden mention of my name.

"Are you paying attention?" Ms Simmons asked, her hand on her hip.