Learning how to be a nun was nothing like I expected it to be. Everything had happened in a blur ever since Father Hanson and his small group of nuns had toured several Catholic schools in my area on a recruitment drive earlier in the year. I’ll never forget the day they came to our school and set up a desk in a spare office for girls to sign up to their preparatory course for nuns. Their visit was announced in the middle of lots of other notices first thing in the morning. Most of the other girls didn’t seem to pay any attention to our teacher at all but I knew I’d be going to that office and signing up at the first opportunity. I was raised in a strictly religious home and I’d only ever dreamed of doing two things with my life. My secret ambition, the one my parents wouldn’t approve of, was to swim competitively. I was good at it, some of my friends had even remarked that I seemed to spend as much time in the water as I did on dry land. My other dream was to become a nun and do anything the Lord wished of me. Despite my enthusiasm I almost missed them completely, I had a really busy day and it was only during my swim that I realised they would be leaving soon. I cut my swim short and raced through getting changed. In my haste I dropped my bra in a big puddle of water in the changing room and was faced with a dilemma. No bra, or wet bra? Before panic set in I decided to go with no bra as the material of our shirts was reasonably thick, but would probably be see-through if wet. The day was almost over anyway so if I was careful after visiting Father Hanson nobody would notice. I ran through the hallways of our school, praying that they hadn’t left yet. Having no bra on meant my larger than average breasts bounced and swayed with every step. Looking over my shoulder and from side to side as I ran I saw nobody and so supported my chest with my hands, I remember being surprised at just how difficult it was to run at pace without a bra on. Coming around a corner at speed I ran directly into Mr. Murdax, my math teacher. I bounced off him and fell to the ground, sliding across the polished floor. I noticed his eyes dip down between my legs as my skirt flew up and my legs parted in my vain attempts to regain some semblance of balance. I thanked God that it had been my bra and not my panties that had fallen in the puddle back in the changing rooms. I quickly closed my legs and regained my feet. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Miss. Callaghan?” he asked, his voice betraying the fact that he was still getting over the shock of being careered into and the view of my pristine white panties between my toned legs. “Sorry Mr. Murdax, I just realised I was running out of time to speak with Father Hanson before he leaves.” Mr. Murdax gave a mysteriously knowing smile and let me go without any further delay or punishment. It was quite confusing, both I and several other girls had received detentions from him for much less than that but I wasn’t about to question his uncharacteristic leniency. I thanked him and continued as fast as I could without having to resort to giving myself a hand-bra again. At last I was outside the office, which had a piece of paper stuck to it confirming I had the right room. I took a moment to catch my breath and smooth down my skirt, I wanted to make sure I gave the right impression when they met me. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting from Father Hanson but I had certainly been anticipating an old priest. Don’t get me wrong, he was old like about thirty, but I’d definitely thought he would be really old like Mr. Murdax, in his fifties or something. I answered all their questions to the best of my ability, though I must admit I was somewhat distracted by Father Hanson’s warm smile, which made him look even younger than he was. He was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen, I wasn’t sure whether I was seeing him through rose coloured glasses because of him