She picked a light summerdress and headed downstairs.Her mom was already cooking her favorite for breakfast. French toast.Yesterday it had been a sala.... Not that Trisha would have known withouther diary. Soon she was done and headed upstairs to put on some lightmake-up. Sometimes she wanted to go a little heavier, but Trisha alwaysargued against it. Consistency kept them out of trouble for the last fewyears. Trisha remembered too well the many shrinks of her earlychildhood. It was before she. Normally, we would have needed support. The half-blouse didn't supply any. It barely concealed at all, and looking inthe mirror I realized that I could barely move without shifting aroundand jiggling inside the shirt. So what you had was a braless girl ina shirt that didn't support her (more a case of *us* supporting theshirt) and the eye said, "That can't be right." After all, no one isthat firm. But we were. And you kept trying to look, to spot thetrick. Studying myself briefly in the mirror,. More

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