chapter 1 the contestants

The rain had ceased, and sensing that the proceedings were soon to start, more and more students had emerged into the cool morning breeze. Thin lines of spectators had formed on the two edges of the field that weren't crowded by trees, and almost all the windows of the overlooking dorm building were now open, elbows resting on windowsills, hands propping an assortment of touseled heads.

Looks like my little project has gathered some attention, Ellie mused as she sized up the crowd. Then again, she had to admit, grudgingly, that there was one main reason for the hight turnout: Troy. Since the contest was conceived, he had spent every waking moment bragging about his inevitable victory. And when the coolest, best looking guy on campus publicises something, the herd tends to listen.

"Some crowd," Ellie remarked casually to Joe without turning her head.

"Mmnph yeah," came the muffled reply. Anticipating a wait before things got started, Joe had decided to get that other hotdog after all. Now busily chomping away, he opened his palm and smiled to see the number of the girl operating the stand.

Just then, a murmur spread through in the crowd, and heads turned collectively towards the pavilion, where a tall blonde figure had appeared in the entrance.

To considerable applause and a (mostly) feminine cheer, Sarah North skipped down the pavillion staircase, her long, lean legs easily taking two steps at a time.

Ellie joined the applause, smiling confidently as she considered her friend's form. Long blonde hair constrained in a practical ponytail (which in no way diminished the sultry beauty of her features), a honed waist that tapered in at the naval, widening out slightly at the hips to descend into healthy, toned thighs. Sarah was every inch the sporty gym vixen.

"Well... almost every inch," thought Ellie. The duo of enviably full bosoms, which bounced defiantly despite their confinement in an ultra-strength cropped sports bra, were certainly not typical of a female athlete. But they seemed no hindrance to Sarah's lithe movements as she glided to the starting line, a determined look in her bright blue eyes. It was little wonder that a number of camera phones appeared overlooking building as the hot blonde jogged across: the male students up there must've had a prime view.

As Sarah began to limber up with some light stretches, a louder, deeper cheer heralded the arrival of her opponent.

Smiling like a fairytail prince, Troy Mason waved as he jogged easily down the pavilion steps: crytal-white teeth gleaming, short, highlighted blond hair barely moving in the wind. The cheerleaders swooned and whooped and shook their pompoms.

"Fools," thought Ellie. But she had to admit that Troy looked in worryingly good condition, with his chiseled jawline and flashing blue eyes. There was ceraintly no sign of the hangover which was plaguing Joe. This made sense: for once Troy hadn't joined his housemates on their night of debauchery.

"Wooooh!" Joe banged his hands together and sprayed hotdog, enthusiastically cheering his friend and turning to Ellie with a confident smirk. She rolled her eyes, but her cool exterior masked the tingling of nerves. Had she overplayed her hand?

The crowd offering sporadic encouragement as both competitors went through their pre-race routines. Taking a wide stance, Sarah raised an arm over her head, stretching out her lean torso to one side, before raising the other arm and repeating the action, while Troy bent forward to touch his toes.

Ellie's eyebrows rose just a touch.

"Uh, Joe?"

"*Mmph* Wffhat?" Joe's mouth was once again full of hotdog.

Ellie paused, pursing her lips. "I'm no expert but... uh...Is a superstar athlete supposed to have quite such a big bumper out back?"

Joe gazed forward, chewing thoughtfully. "Well, yeah," he said after a moment, swallowing his mouthful. "A strong runner's butt. That's just what you'd expect."

Looking at the two competitors alongside each other, Ellie reckoned she'd rather have Sarah's round but firm little posterior than Troy's generous bubble butt, which seemed to be testing the seat of his sports shorts as he reached once more for the tips of his pristine, top-of-the-range red trainers. Just as Ellie was sure Troy's shorts would split, he straightened up and in one motion stretched on his tiptoes, linking his fingers above his head.

"And - uh - what's that," Ellie leaned sideways towards Joe, "a strong runner's gut?"

For a moment Joe gazed at the tanned curve of Troy's midriff, exposed by his upwards stretching.

"He's, uh, he's clearly been carb-loading. Yeah. It's a long distance race, ain't it?"

Ellie nodded in assent. "That does make sense. I mean, I've never seen someone eat quite so many french fries as Troy has over the last few weeks. Must be maximising his carb-load, I guess."

She placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "But, uh, tell me: how many carbs are there in caramel fudge brownies? Only I noticed this morning that the packet was empty, and seeing as you weren't up by then, and Chad is still in bed-"

Ellie took a step back and frowned.

"Say, you feelin okay there Joe? Your cheeks are lookin' a shade green." She tapped her chin thoughtfully: "Perhaps Chloe *did* put something in those cupcakes after all -" her face broke into a grin - "or, aha, perhaps you just put too many of them in yourself."

As she spoke, Ellie poked a playful finger into Joe's side.

"Heyyy!" Belching awkwardly at the unexpected pressure on his full middle, Joe aimed a lethargic swipe at Ellie's hand. She giggled as he stumbled backwards, missing altogether.

"Knock it off!" he said irritably, rubbing his violated side.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

Ellie and Joe's altercation was interrupted by the microphone-ampflified voice.

"Thank you - thank you all for coming." Rob Stricker's natural sports-commentator tones boomed over the crowd. "We gather this morning to witness a historic event in Fairmeadow University which will go down in campus lore. A battle of the sexes. A contest. A race. Tamara?"

"Thanks Rob - and boy, ladies and gentleman, what an event we have for you today." Where Rob was the natural commentator, Tamara was all upbeat CNN newsreader. "The terms have been set and the contracts signed," she continued. "Each competitor runs on behalf of their sex. Should Troy win -" here there was a big cheer "- the female residents of Upsilon Block will be required, for the rest of the year, to carry out all domestic tasks as instructed by the male residents. But should Sarah win -" a lighter, higher-piched cheer "- the roles will be reversed: the guys will be serving the girls."

Rob took over: "This includes doing all chores: everything from cooking, laundry, washing, ironing, hoovering, as instructed, and keeping the dorm supplied. The interactions between the sexes in this scenario will form the experimental aspect of social science major of Miss Ellie Pebble, herself a resident of Upsilon block."

Rob turned to his co-presenter with a laugh: "Boy, Tammy, that's not a contest I'd want to lose!"

"High stakes indeed!" declared Tamara. "Well, it looks as though we're just about ready to start."

Ellie crossed her fingers. Let battle commence.