I felt the blush of embarrassment rise further up my face, but with nervous fingers I reached out and began to undo the buttons of her top. I finally...managed to work my way through all the buttons and then peeled the silky garment off the blonde girl. I gave a glance at Stephanie, hoping that she would give me a nod of approval that this had gone far enough. But she simply looked at us patiently. I gulped and reached up again, my fingers finding the front clasp on Lexi’s bra, trying to undo. My mother bought me a diary whenI was very young, and told me that I could write whatever I wanted in thejournal, and she was going to monitor initially, really to see that I hadcommitted to journaling, but after that, she was probably never going tolook at it. It was a 'safe' place where I could write about my feelingsand be honest about my family. The lock on the journal/diary was to keepout my prying sisters. I became addicted to it. It did help me processmy feelings about being. More

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