<-- Ep. 1 Part 5 | Ep. 2 Part 1 -->


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I don’t know why, but I took a step forward, then another, and, gritting my teeth, pushed off from the pool’s edge. The water closed around me — cool, dense — catching my body and instantly dragging me downward. The swimsuit clung even tighter to my skin, my breasts shifted apart, and the straps bit into my shoulders as if reminding me exactly who I was now.

I surfaced halfway down the lane, shaking droplets from my face, suddenly remembering I probably looked like some tomboy stuffed into an overly feminine swimsuit. A few strokes later, I heard a sharp whistle.

— Young lady in lane three! — a loud female voice called, strict, with a chill to it. — No diving from the pool edge!

I stopped, lifted my head, and saw a woman in a black athletic swimsuit with a whistle around her neck — a coach, or maybe a lifeguard. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, and she was looking straight at me.

— I… I was just— — I began, but cut myself off when her gaze slid down my body, lingering on my breasts, lifted and pushed together by the swimsuit. I felt something tighten inside me.

— No “just,” — she shook her head. — Next time, use the ladder. You’re a young lady, not some boy in a back alley.

The words hit dead center. I automatically raised my hand to wipe the water from my face and caught the glint of polish on my long nails. Just yesterday, in my head, I’d been calling them “instruments of torture,” after Samantha had talked me into getting them “just to try it,” and now they seemed like they were part of my… new picture here in the pool.

— Understood, — I said quietly, my voice coming out softer than I wanted.

Behind me came a ripple of giggling. The same two boys by the far wall had clearly heard everything. One said something to the other, and both stared at me again, not bothering to hide their interest.

Feeling the swimsuit stretched across my breasts and hips, I swam on — just to get away from their eyes, from the instructor, from Samantha, who I could already see swimming toward me with that smirk, ready to sink her teeth into a fresh topic.