Chapter #5getting fitted by: Unknown We reached the mall and found a Victoria's Secret shop, crowded with older women, a few guys, as well as girls my age, probably for the same reason as me. I hope I get a bigger bra than they do, I thought, and immediately felt dirty for it. Why was this so desirable? Because bigger breasts meant bigger status in the world of middle school, where puberty brought with it burgeoning sexuality and desire. I knew all that, the reasons were clear and logical in my head...but it didn't matter! I still imagined what the material of a bra would feel like. Probably soft, silky. The support would be there every moment during the day, the straps digging in my shoulders. Maybe a little itchy too. Why did I want that? Because it was new.
The store attendant greeted me with a smile. When my sisters told her why I was there, she nodded. "It seems it's that day for a lot of girls. Just you wait a second and I'll make sure there's a fitting room available." She walked off, and I stood by the counter with Amanda and Jessica, looking at all the bras hanging on the walls, on stands, depicted in pictures of adult models scowling towards me. I fought against the curiosity and took control for just a moment, long enough to say, "Couldn't we wait another day...?" But then the attendant came back and led me to the fitting room.
"Okay," she said, pulling out measuring tape. "Hold your hands up please." I did as instructed, and she wrapped the tape around my chest, asking me to hold one end down, right over my left breast. "Hold it there for a second..." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "30B. Not bad." She smirked. "Not bad at all. You're going to be quite a looker in a few years."
I knew the thought was coming. I tried to hold it back, tried to tell myself I wouldn't be like this in a few years. I'd be a guy again.
But the thought came: I knew I'd get big.
"Here, let me get a few bras to try on," she said. Out the curtains she left, leaving me to stare at my reflection in the mirror until she returned with a pile of bras. "Now...which one do you want to start with?" I looked at my choices, then pointed.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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