If your parents ever told you to be wary about getting what you want, well my advice is to take that warning to heart. Believe me, getting what you want, what you’ve pined for and dreamed of, may actually be the very last thing you need. If you need to know more, just read on.
I’m Amy. I live with my Mom and my stepdad in a quiet street in the suburbs of the third largest city in the state. If it sounds dull, that’s because it is. Well, it was. To be strictly fair to my parents, and to my stepdad in particular, I can’t honestly say he counts as ‘dull’ anymore.
Actually, dull it may have been, but my life was pretty good. I had a lot of friends, plenty of freedom, and I was heading for a place at a good college despite the fact that I didn’t try that hard at school. I was kind of lucky like that. Then there’s my high metabolism. I’ve always had it. Everyone said that when I hit the teenage years, I’d have to watch what I ate more.
But they were wrong. Pizzas, burgers, fried chicken, shakes; it didn’t matter. I never put on weight. A lot of that was down to the dancing classes I did, three times a week, and twice at the weekend. But not entirely. My friend Shea went to all the same classes and she could barely look at a burger without putting on a few pounds. Yet I stayed slim, lithe and cute.
A lot of the girls hated me, so they found other things to pick on about my appearance. Unfortunately, there was one easy target. My chest.
Yes, I know, it’s a standard insecurity. It’s almost a fucking cliché. But there it is. I wasn’t completely flat, but compared to some of my friends, well, all of my friends in fact, I was severely under-endowed.
It hadn’t stopped me dating, and I was no longer a virgin, not after that six weeks I was Nate in the summer, but there were times when I would get really self-conscious about it.
And Halloween was definitely one of those times.
I know you’re supposed to love Halloween, but I hated it. For a start, it was all my friends talked about for like a month beforehand. And it wasn’t like I hated partying or anything. It was the costumes. There were SO many options, so many sexy outfits, but all of them, or almost all of them, involved showing off your chest, and in my case that really wasn’t an option.
So, every Halloween I kind of went into a mini depression. Not full on, just kind of low. Some nights I looked at myself in the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to find ways to emphasize my breasts. But it never worked. Some days I thought that the only way people would think I wasn’t a boy was because I was wearing a dress. Well, that and the make-up, and the voice and the hips and the cute face. But you know what I mean. I know that some boys don’t care about boobs, and I get that, but they seem to be kind of rare, and in any case, even when I had one, in Nate, I didn’t believe him.
I confided to a couple of my friends about it one year and every Halloween after that they made a big effort to cheer me up. But last Halloween I was particularly down. Hannah was having a huge party and I made myself miserable looking at all the cute costumes online. I really wanted to go as a busty vampire or a hot maid or cat girl. But all of those costumes were designed to show off your boobs.
Hannah didn’t help by suggesting that I could get a boob job. I mean, I knew I could, I just didn’t want to. My parents would probably pay for it, but then everyone would know it was fake.
So, there I was, a week before Halloween, lying on my bed, browsing costumes on my phone, making myself feel more and more miserable. Bored and restless, I tried looking up breast growth treatments. I’d tried a few, usually creams from China or Thailand, none of which had any effect. Then I came across an advert that caught my attention. It was for Instant Breast Growth and the before and after pictures were hilarious: a flat chested girl transformed into a huge-breasted goddess.
I laughed out loud. There was no way I was going to fall for that. But the pills were cheap. And the reviews all seemed to be amazing. It was five stars all the way, except for one four-star review that said the breast growth was too much. I sighed and then, idly, clicked on the Buy option.
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