Published: March 14th 2022, 12:00:06 pm
Malory's door was open a crack, but Derrick still tapped at the doorframe, just to be polite. Not having to knock, or ring, before coming into the front door was one thing; bursting into his female friend's room unannounced, even if she was expecting him, was a whole different matter.
"It's open, dork," she called, and as he pushed the door the rest of the way open, he could see her rolling her eyes as she lowered her phone, peering over it at him. "What's the backpack for? Do you have some homework?" She stuck her tongue out, returning her attention to the screen.
Derrick froze, realizing only then that he'd forgotten to come up with an excuse... He'd been more concerned with finding it in the first place, since he hadn't used it in years, and debating what random junk he should put into it so it wouldn't be suspicious if he brought it into looking totally empty, and back out full. He didn't really expect to be stopped or searched, but he had also wanted some stuff he could drape over his stolen booty, on the off chance that anyone looked inside.
"Uh..." His mind raced. Why would he have a backpack? He was an adult, well out of school, here supposedly just to hang out... There was nothing he'd said he was going to bring, and even if there had been, he couldn't open up his bag and produce it, because it was mostly clothes in there.
"Don't you know?" Malory scooted herself up into a sitting position, setting her phone down, taking an interest, which only made Derrick more nervous, more self-conscious. "Did it hop onto your back on its own? Were you possessed by your younger, schoolboy self?"
The latter was, in a way, more right than Derrick cared to admit. There had been a slight feeling of possession when he tried on the diaper, of a younger version of himself taking over... It definitely wasn't one old enough for school, however.
"N-No," he shook his head, as if her joking suggestions required an actual denial. "I-It's just..." The best lies, he knew, were based in truth, and it had become enough of a subject of conversation that he worried he might end up having to open up the backpack, so he might as well incorporate what was really in there. "Th-There's a chance someone from my department could call in sick, and I'd have to cover for them, so I brought along a change of work clothes."
"Oh." He could see the interest drain from Malory's face, which was exactly what he'd wanted. In this case, anyway, he wanted her to assume the bag was there for some totally boring reason, and he seemed to have achieved that. "Lame."
"It might not happen!" he clarified. "But, you know, just in case..." It wasn't going to, of course, although now that he'd come up with the story, it might be useful... His roommate was gone at the moment, so he had a handy out for after he carried out his mission... Would he actually do it? Probably not... He'd be feeling guilty afterwards, likely, and wouldn't want to feel like he'd used his friendship with Malory purely to get him into the door so he could steal from her house... If he couldn't resist, however, couldn't wait any longer... Well, it was nice to have options.
Malory sighed. "Yeah, yeah... Sometimes I think you like that job more than me."
"Well, they do pay me," he shrugged.
"I pay you!" Malory teased. "I let you bask in my presence, and I let you find out what it's like to totally suck at video games."
"I don't suck," Derrick protested. "You're the one who has the game, you just get more practice..."
"Sure," Malory scoffed, tossing him a controller. "We'll see about that."
"I mean, we both know I'm going to lose," he conceded as he sat in her desk chair, waited for her to navigate through the menus so he could choose his character. "That doesn't mean I suck..."
"I guess that depends on how badly you lose," she said. "Let's see... Oh, and I let you borrow my mom to help you when your car craps out on you."
Derrick's face turned bright red, and he quickly looked down at his controller, pretending he'd suddenly forgotten where all the buttons were as he remembered that night, and, more importantly, what had happened afterwards. "I-I did appreciate that," he admitted, without, of course, telling her how much, or why, exactly. "I was trying to reach you, but..."
"I could have saved you the trip here," Malory bragged. "I would have asked what was wrong before I left... Not that I'd expect you to have known, but if you'd mentioned the battery, I'd have brought the jumper cables with me."
How sad would that have been? He would have been grateful, obviously, and wouldn't have known what he was missing... At the same time, however, who knew when he would have had reason to go into the downstairs bathroom here, and at a moment when he had the perfect opportunity to take something from it without anyone noticing... A whole world had opened up to him then that he'd never even dreamed about, and if Malory hadn't been in the shower, he'd still be completely oblivious to it...
He also wouldn't be contemplating stealing from his best friend's house, so he supposed it wasn't all sunshine and roses. He'd told himself, over and over, that it wasn't a big deal, that Malory's mom surely had to restock all this stuff regularly anyway, that she probably went through a ton of them, and wouldn't miss them... Mrs. Holland had never been anything but nice to him, though, and it was mostly the same with Malory, even if she did sometimes tease him about his height, and his lack of knowledge about cars, and how bad he was at video games, and... All of that was playful, and he knew she didn't mean anything by it. It definitely didn't justify breaking her and her family's trust this way.
But that didn't stop him from carrying out his plan, when he had the chance. He did hesitate, for a second, after Malory announced, between rounds, "I hafta go pee." Whether Mrs. Holland would notice, or care, it was wrong to some degree... This was going to be the last time he did it, though, and only to confirm in his mind that it wasn't a novelty, wasn't something he'd enjoyed once, yet would get bored of quickly, before he bought more for himself.
"O-Oh, me, too," he said. "I'll just go downstairs."
"Whatever," she shrugged. "You can go all the way down there if you can't wait for me to finish. Or do you need to go first?"
"N-No, I can make it," he promised, even the suggestion that he couldn't, that his bladder was too tiny - or his potty training too weak - to make the trip, or wait another minute or two, bringing back a dash of the feeling he'd gotten when he was wearing the diaper. He walked out into the hallway, heading slowly for the stairs, until he saw Malory step into the bathroom and start closing the door, then ducked back into her room and grabbed his backpack.
He scrambled down the steps, hoping, somehow, he'd be able to beat her back to her room, as unlikely as that seemed when he had to navigate the stairs both ways, and stuff his bounty into the backpack. He forced himself to slow down, too, when he hit the bottom, assuming Mrs. Holland was there somewhere, and would get suspicious if she heard him running around wildly.
He got to the bathroom, happy to see it was unoccupied, and slipped inside, closing and locking the door. The diapers were still there, still waiting for him, and it was all he could do to stop from opening one up right there and taping himself into it... As much experience as Mrs. Holland had with kids wearing them - and Malory had seeing kids in them - he worried they'd be able to tell right away.
He unzipped his backpack, pushing aside the clothes. There was so much space there... He could probably fit the whole stack in there if he wanted to! And he did... But there was no way Mrs. Holland wouldn't spot that immediately, so he had to show a little restraint. He was only doing this to experiment a bit more, anyway... He didn't need that many...
He took a couple, tucking them into the bottom of his bag, and then another, just in case he messed up putting one of those on, and another, for good measure... Before long, the pile on the counter had dwindled to the point where he wasn't sure if it was obvious or not. It felt that way to him, though he knew it was smaller, so knew to look for it... He frowned, wondering if he should put some back, when, suddenly, he had a bright idea. These surely weren't the only diapers they had here, right? Mrs. Holland kept these here for easy access, but she probably had others to refill this from, and, probably, they were close by...
Kneeling down, he opened up the counter under the sink, and, sure enough, there were a couple packages of Pampers there, along with a few more bottles of the other supplies. One of the packages was open, and partially empty, while the other was full, pristine, unopened... As much as he would have loved to have taken that, he knew that was going too far. He could take a couple diapers from the open one, however, and put them onto the stack on top of the counter to disguise the ones he'd snatched.
After a moment of surveying his work, he picked up one of the bottles of baby powder from the top of the counter, twisted open the top, took a sniff. Immediately, he put that into his bag as well, putting one of the bottles from under the sink in its place. Satisfied, he zipped up his backpack, and, hoping he hadn't taken too long, opened up the door...
"Oh!" he stopped in his tracks, almost wishing he had used the bathroom, because he nearly wet himself from the shock of seeing Mrs. Holland right outside the door, waiting. His hand tightened around the shoulder strap of his backpack, terrified that she knew, that she was going to make him show her what was inside, that he hadn't covered the diapers up well enough with the clothes, or that she'd dig too deep and see them, or smell the baby powder...
"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't mean to scare you... I just assumed that was probably you in there, and I wanted to see if you were going to stay for dinner! Are you okay?"
"I-I'm fine," he told her, even though his heart was still pounding. "A-And you don't have to do that, I don't want to..."
"It's no trouble, you know that," she waved off his protests. "We'd love to have you, if you don't have any plans."
He smiled. "Well... Sure, then. That would be great!"
"Wonderful!" she smiled back. "Oh, and Derrick?"
He gulped, squirming. "Y-Yes?"
"I didn't hear a flush... Did you forget?"
He blushed; how could he have forgotten that basic bit of espionage, whether he'd known anyone was nearby to hear or not? If he was supposed to be using the bathroom, he had to at least flush! "Y-Yeah," he nodded. "Sorry."
"That's fine," she told him. "You can do it now... And I didn't hear the sink, either."
His blush deepened as he stepped back into the bathroom, feeling her eyes on him like he was one of her charges, a little boy just barely potty trained, who still needed some supervision when he went potty, who wasn't ready to be trusted to remember things like flushing the toilet or washing his hands without his Mommy, or babysitter, there to remind him, and watch him like a hawk to ensure he actually did them... But even that was more mature than what he really wanted to be, as evidenced by what his backpack was now full of.