or when you cover up what's already covered.
honestly, i didn't care too much about what happened in the locker room, so long as everyone was covered where it was needed.
since all of the bathroom stalls were occupied, i just had to change in the main changing area. i wasn't bothered by it, because i'd (finally) come to terms with my body.
at one point, i was struggling to pull my clean shirt from the bottom of my gym bag, and was a bit bent over.
"ooh, you got a rack!"
my eyesbrows knitted together as i stood back up. i turned to the girl who'd said it, seeing her steal a glance at my chest.
"uh... okay?" i said it like a question as i held my shirt to my chest. i felt my face go red.
i couldn't look at anyone again until i was clothed and out of the locker room. there was something about it that made me embarrassed, made me want to coverupcoverupcoverup.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
No Ficciónthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
