She laughed and started painting them. She said, "You know,girls your age start to paint their own nails. I want you to study how Ido it so you can do...your own. Maybe you can even do mine sometime." Iagreed and just looked in wonder at each digit as I blew them dry. Whilemy nails dried, she painted my lips a deep red. "Don't forget my lashesI said, and she laughed as she took mascara and brushed them.We then went into my room and opened the bottom drawer, where she keptmy girl clothes. I. I was maybe 5’2”, with frizzy, slightly curly, dull brown hair down to my almost non-existent a-cup breasts. I was on the heavy side; not morbidly obese. but not fit either. Back in high school, I never even considered dating. It was out of the question. I had crushes on boys, sure. Boys that would not be considered desirable for most girls, but I knew my limits. But even those boys didn’t give me a second look.There was no way I’d get a date with anyone. So I’d go home and play one of the many. More

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