Inspection Day Ch. 03

Talking about the punishment experience with her friends lifted her anxiety and left her with a cool feeling of relief in her chest. Phoebe's heart rate returned to normal. Tabby's reassurance especially improved her mood. She was sure Tabby would be a therapist one day. Making the world seem better was her best talent. The crushing dread she felt before was replaced with just slight anxiousness. In a way, it almost felt exciting. It would be a new experience, though probably an unpleasant one.

She saw more F.I.s walking around barefoot in the halls, and still didn't know why. Maybe her years at Descalcent High rewired her to think this, but seeing their otherwise pretty, soft, and lovingly maintained feet get so dirty felt blasphemous.

Her next class was chemistry lab. An inspector named Tracy was assigned to the desk in front of Phoebe. She was surprised the teacher let anyone go barefoot, considering the usual safety rules banned open-toed shoes. Her soles seemed even grimier than those Phoebe saw at lunch, but it may have been that she saw them close up this time. Tracy had a habit of standing with one foot popped behind her, so she had a good view.

Tracy's foot was average-sized, but looked longer because of how narrow it was. Her second toe was slightly longer than her big toe. Phoebe learned this was called a "Greek toe" in art history, when someone asked the teacher why every Greek statue seemed to have one. Tracy's arch was fairly shallow. The gray dirt caked on her sole formed an uninterrupted outline of the foot's ball, side, and heel. Even her instep was lightly dusted.

Tracy alternated between scrunching and stretching her foot. From Phoebe's angle, she could see her strongly defined Achilles' tendon. When she spread her toes, the tendons on top of her feet were outlined under her creamy skin. The most Phoebe had ever seen of her feet before this were the tops, when she wore flats in the warmer months. She could only wonder how nice they would look clean...

Two loud finger snaps broke her out of her staring.

"Phobe! We need to add the catalyst now." her lab partner demanded.

"O-oh! Sorry, I-I spaced out for a sec." She stammered. She mixed a measured scoop of white powder into the beaker, writing down the result when the solution changed color.

They continued their experiments. Tracy and her partner finished first. As they cleaned up, her lab partner asked the question that was on everyone's minds.

"You're one of the F.I.s, right? Why aren't any of you wearing shoes?"

"It's a Foot Inspector secret. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you!" Tracy joked.

"Ha! Well, we wouldn't want that top secret info in enemy hands! I'll take your word on it."

Phoebe's curiosity wasn't fully satisfied, but it left her no doubt that it was related to the punishment. It's the only reason they would keep it a secret. The most logical explanation was that they would just have to wash the F.I.s feet. Degrading, but not the worst she could imagine. At the end of the day, it was just dirt, and they were just feet.

Seventh period was French. Phoebe thought the class was both boring and disappointing. She expected to be at least conversant after four years, but every year just felt like going over the same things: rote vocabulary and frustrating verb conjugations from a condescending textbook.

It wasn't far from the chem lab, so Phoebe was one of the first there. She took a seat towards the back and pulled out her notebook. It had more doodles than actual notes. There wasn't much of a point taking any, the teacher put the PowerPoint slides online anyway.

Rhiannon walked in not even a minute later. She was still barefoot, of course. She walked towards Phoebe, head slightly down, lips curled inward. From behind her round glasses, she looked at Phoebe for a split second before looking down and to the side.

Despite the awkwardness on her face, she had more grace to her stride than Phoebe remembered her ever having. Her long skirt flowed and rippled as she walked. There was an elegance to the way her bare feet peaked out from beneath it. She saw the dirt under her tiny toes. On Rhiannon, it just looked... right. Natural. Her outfit was made of the same muted, earthy tones it always was. All it took was the removal of her shoes to bring her appearance from frumpy to fairy-like, and dirty soles only enhanced the look.

She stopped in front of Phoebe's desk. She held her left arm in her right, and stood with feet pointed slightly inwards.

"H-Hello, Phoebe... I just..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I wanted to apologize for this morning. I didn't mean to embarrass you like that..."

There was so much remorse in it that it made Phoebe feel guilty herself.

"It's all good. It was kinda my fault, I forgot all about inspections today. Sorry my feet smelled so bad..."

"It was bound to happen eventually. It's just... the perils of being an inspector, I guess." She placed her book bag on the desk next to Phoebe and took a seat. She sat sideways to face her.

A few silent seconds passed. A few times, they briefly made eye contact before looking elsewhere.

"I already know that I failed. I knew I would the second I had my shoes off."

Rhiannon nodded. "I always feel awful when I have to fail someone. I try to let the minor stuff go, but..." she trailed off.

"The smell wasn't minor." Phoebe finished. She gave a little giggle to try and lighten things up. "I'm just disappointed I broke my perfect record."

Rhiannon smiled a little. "Yeah..." She gulped. "Umm... I should tell you something..."

Phoebe lifted an interested eyebrow.

"Okay class! Settle down, it's Frenching time!" The teacher interrupted with his signature catchphrase. Nobody was ever brave enough to tell him how wrong it sounded, especially from a balding, middle-aged man teaching at an all-girls' school.

"I'll have to tell you later." Rhiannon whispered. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. It would need to wait until class ended, though. The teacher had good hearing, and took it personally when anyone talked during the slide show karaoke he considered teaching.

Having to wait for what Rhiannon had to say gave Phoebe a pit in her stomach. It wasn't just that she had bad news, it was how uncomfortable she seemed about it that worried her. She would be thinking about it all class unless she distracted herself, and the lesson certainly wouldn't do it.

Phoebe began doodling in her notebook, as she often did in this class. She drew some random squiggles, tried to see if she could draw a perfect circle freehand, and drew that angular S shape every student drew when bored. None of them did it for her. She needed a task that would take brainpower to keep her mind occupied.

She decided on a life drawing, something she hadn't done since art class last year. She scanned the room for a subject, something complex that she would have to really look at to get right. Her eyes settled in front of her and to her right, where Rhiannon had her feet on the crossbar of the desk before her. Her feet were pointed, with her toes gripping the metal bar.

Phoebe studied the lines, contours, and shading. She did it side-eyed so it wasn't too obvious. After getting the general shape down, she picked out the details. The way her skin wrinkled behind her heel. The way her pinky toes didn't quite reach the bar and instead splayed out slightly. Her tiny, french-tipped toenails. She had most of it on paper before Rhiannon tucked her feet under her desk. She continued shading from memory.

It turned out okay, considering she hadn't drawn in a while. The shading looked a bit sloppy, but Phoebe was satisfied with it. It made her strongly consider taking up drawing as a hobby.

The bell rang. As everyone packed up and started leaving, Rhiannon turned to Phoebe.

"Okay, so I think you should know that..." She got noticed Phoebe's notebook. "Is that my feet?"

"Oh, uh... yeah. Sorry, I just got bored and started drawing them. I'm not really sure why I chose them as a subject."

"Oh, well, you did a good job. Very life-like." She looked Phoebe in the eyes.

"Sorry, I got distracted. So... I can't talk about the... correctional measures today, but..."

They used to just call them "punishments", but this year's inspectors thought it sounded too harsh. That didn't stop them from making their "correctional measures" harsh, though.

"...I just wanted to let you know that I voted against it." She said.

Phoebe didn't know how to respond.

"I, uhh, need to get going. I need to help set things up." Rhiannon said. Her skirt flared out has she turned to the door. Phoebe watched her leave as she got packed up herself. Her soles weren't quite as dirty as the others, but that wasn't a high benchmark.

She didn't know what to make of Rhiannon's comment. Could it really be so bad that she needed to let Phoebe know she was against it?

Last period, study hall. Phoebe had homework she wanted to get done before tonight. After her punishment, she might not have, as Tabby would say, the "spoons" to do it when she got home. She just wanted the time to relax and recover.

There were still ten minutes left in the period by the time she finished. The announcements would start soon. One by one, the names of every girl who failed inspections would be read out over the PA system.

The jarring three-note jingle rang out over the speakers. It startled Phoebe even when she was anticipating it.

Welp, this is it. She thought, gulping.

"Good afternoon, Descalcent High!" Principal Carter's voice boomed, "We're nearing the end of this month's foot inspection day, and it looks like most of you made the mark! I'll be handing things over to Kaylee Sumpter, president of the Foot Inspectors from here. Over to you, Kaylee!"

The speakers boomed and reverberated as he handed Kaylee the mic.

"Thank you, Mr. Carter. This is Kaylee Sumpter, and on behalf of all Foot Inspectors at DHS, I'd like to thank you all for your cooperation during this month's inspection."

Phoebe hated Kaylee's voice. She tried too hard to sound official and ended up sounding condescending.

"We only had nine failed inspections this month, two above our lowest record! Before I call those individuals to this month's correctional measures, I just have a few announcements." Kaylee said, shifting around a few papers.

"Entry into the Feet of the Year contest closes March first. If you wish to enter those lovely feet of yours, please be sure to enter your name and the most flattering pictures you have before then."

Ugh, just call me down and get it over with! Phoebe thought.

"In addition, you may have noticed that your foot inspectors have not been wearing footwear throughout the school day. While this would normally be a dress code violation, rest assured that we have received express written permission from the school's administration to do so."

The question on Phoebe's mind was why they were going barefoot. She doubted anyone really cared if they had permission.

"January saw a much larger number of failed inspections than usual. While we acknowledge that it was the day after winter break, and appreciate today's improvement, we nonetheless felt the need to make sure our fellow students understand Descalcent High School's expectations. To that end, we have ensured that today's corrective measures will be... especially memorable."

She lingered on those last two words, lowering the pitch of her voice slightly as she did so, like she was ending a villainous monologue. Phoebe's uncertainty grew. She wasn't the only one wondering what these mysterious "corrective measures" would be. A few other girls around her whispered questions to each other.

The sound of rustling papers played on the speakers again, followed by Kaylee clearing her throat.

"The following students are to report to room B07 for this correctional measures. Failure to appear will result in a minimum of one day in-school suspension. As a friendly reminder, your Foot Inspectors administer these to help you remember to take better care of your feet next month."

A detention would suffice, Phoebe thought.

Phoebe listened intently. Being lower in the alphabetical order would probably make her one of the first. Her bags were already packed. Once her name was called, she just wanted to get out of the classroom with as little fuss as possible.

"Jillian Arnold,"

Phoebe had never talked to Jill, but knew her by reputation as one of the school's "party girls". It was the second time her name was called this year. She heard a rumor that last time was because of cum on her feet from a foot job she gave her boyfriend before school. She wasn't one to blindly believe rumors, but it seemed plausible. If true, she could only imagine the inspector's reaction.

"Elizabeth Baker,"

Lizzie was a frequent flier, getting called most months. She was a rebellious, punky girl, spiked leather and all. She openly admitted that letting her feet go was one of her many acts of rebellion. She probably only showed up to her punishments to let the F.I.s know they'll never break her.

"Phoebe Blake,"

Phoebe stood up and, without looking at anyone, walked to the door. There were a few whispers around the study hall, but they didn't last long. Intellectually, Phoebe knew that was how it would be. If it was a freshman or sophomore class, there might have been more ridicule. By senior year, most of the girls had failed inspections before, so they were more sympathetic. It didn't stop the panicky part of Phoebe's brain from expecting them to burst out laughing.

"Sabine Fischer," Kaylee continued.

The foreign exchange student? She thought they would be exempted from inspections. This will be a culture shock, for sure. Hell, this would be a culture shock for any domestic exchange student.

Phoebe exited the classroom. It was a long walk from there to B07. She had never been there before, but she knew from the number it would be in the basement at the other end of the school. She was calmer now, the fear of humiliation in front of her class behind her.

"Amanda Keller,"

Kaylee did fail her after all, that bitch! Phoebe thought, gritting her teeth. According to Amanda, the only thing she did wrong was letting her nails get too long. Any other inspector would have given her a "Needs Improvement" mark at the worst.

As bad as she felt for Amanda, it was a relief having a close friend there. For her sake, Phoebe hoped that the punishment wouldn't be cleaning the F.I.s' feet like she previously thought. Even after four years at Descalcent High, she still wasn't over her foot-phobia.

"Madeline Moss,"

Maddie was another common name in these announcements. She was a modern-day hippie, stereotypical in that she went barefoot whenever she could. Something about "letting in mother earth's energies" or woo-woo stuff like that. She even found a loophole to the dress code to do it: she wore barefoot sandals, lace triangles that tied around her ankles and ended in loops around her second toes. All the student handbook said on the subject was "footwear is required". It never specified that they needed soles.

Her habit left her feet a little rough and dirty. She didn't let them get as bad as the F.I.s did today, keeping wet-wipes in her purse to clean them off every now and then. Still, Maddie probably had more failed inspections than anyone else. She considered it the price of freedom.

Phoebe's footsteps echoed through the halls, which were silent except for Kaylee's voice over the PA system.

"Dayun Park,"

That was a name Phoebe wasn't expecting. The resident fashionista, Dayun took as much care of her feet as the rest of her appearance, and she loved to show them off. It took a seriously cold day to catch her in anything but sandals. Her toenails had to be a different color every time Phoebe saw them.

Phoebe entered the staircase. Her destination was four floors down.

"Lyndsey Stephens,"

Lyndsey was president of the anime club, and definitely dressed the part. She always had some sort of merchandise on her. One time, she even came to school in a pair of those square wooden sandals with the two blocks underneath. Aside from looking completely out of place with her otherwise normal clothes, she had trouble keeping her balance in them. Even Phoebe, who normally couldn't stand to see people embarrass themselves, thought it was hilarious.

"...and Clara Vasquez. "

Clara was one of the artsy types. It was common for girls in painting classes to take their shoes off to prevent them getting ruined by errant drops of paint. She probably failed because something dried on her feet that she couldn't scrub off.

"Again, report to room B07 for corrective measures. Everyone else, have a good afternoon!"

The audio cut off with a loud click. They really need to upgrade the sound system, Phoebe thought, ears ringing slightly. She was surprised that it was all seniors that failed today.

She arrived at the basement landing, and pushed open the steel double-doors leading to "the dungeon", as everyone called it. The halls in the basement didn't get painted as often. Flakes of beige chipped off the cinderblock walls, revealing the gray concrete underneath. Anywhere in the walls where there was a bolt or a hook, there were rusty trails beneath them that looked like dripping blood. The floor was painted concrete rather than tile, similarly chipping in places. There was no drop ceiling, just exposed beams, pipes, and wires. The florescent lights that hadn't burned out flickered periodically.

There were only a few classrooms down there, like shop class where the power tools fit right in with the industrial look of the place. Most of the rooms were for storage or utility. B07 was one of them. The sign underneath the number said "Truck Bay". The doors were wider than most to let palate jacks in and out. They were closed, but Phoebe could hear the sounds of conversation behind them.

She took a second to take a deep breath. As she was about to open the door, she heard footsteps and voices from around the corner. One was Amanda's, unmistakable by her alto monotone. As the two got closer, Phoebe heard an accent from the other. That must be Sabine. Amanda had mentioned having class with her a few times.

As they got closer, Phoebe caught the end of their conversation.

"I know schools can have odd little traditions, but... why is everything feet with this place?"

"Something about discipline through personal grooming, I dunno. It always seemed flimsy to me. Believe me, I wish we didn't as much as you do."

The two rounded the corner. Amanda just smiled and waved. She wasn't the type to give enthusiastic hellos. Phoebe wasn't in the mood to receive one, so it worked out.

"Hey, Amanda." Phoebe said meekly, returning the wave.

"Well... here we are." Amanda said.

"Yep, we sure are... here." Phoebe replied. Neither of them really knew what to say in this situation.

Sabine just looked back and forth between the two.

"Oh! Sorry, I'm out of it right now. Phoebe, this is Sabine. Sabine, Phoebe."

"Nice to meet you, Phoebe." Sabine said, extending her hand. Her accent wasn't too thick. Phoebe figured that she was German, or at least from a German-speaking country based on her accent and her name.

"Likewise." Phoebe took her hand and gave it a quick shake. "Wish we could have met at a better time."

"Yeah. This is all so weird! What kind of school cares about feet this much?" She said with indignation. Phoebe knew it wasn't directed at her, but felt guilty nonetheless.

"I-it's not really that common in the States. Schools that do this I mean." Phoebe explained. The explanation probably wasn't necessary, but she felt the need to say it anyway.