I lookedcarefully at her hair, make-up, perfume, dress, stockings, and shoes. Irealized that each detail was very similar to mine, and I wondered ifwe...really looked like two teenaged girls talking to one another on acouch. At this time I was truly hoping we did.Linda broke the silence by saying that I should learn how to walk inthe high-heeled shoes better. I agreed to try and she helped me withsmaller steps, walking more on my toes, and swaying my hips a bit. Iwas still quite distracted and. An overwhelming sense of shame washed over me; incidents came unbidden into my mind; how I'd lied, how I'd cheated, how I'd stolen. Suddenly I wasn't so proud of my reputation; I was a slut, and I was ashamed of it. And now there was Her, She had berated me, I definitely knew She wasn’t happy with me, but there was something there, something else. This wasn’t the incoherent rage I used to get from my father, it wasn’t anger that drove Her, it was disappointment, as if I’d let Her down. I felt. More

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