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
Non-Fictionthoughts 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//
