21I opened my mouth to interrupt May’s too-public revelations.
I should’ve voiced a polite diversion. Instead, I yelped, “Whoop!”
Jenna’s firm pressure on my foot had reached the arch. Her rubbing was triggering a sensation that was unbearable.
My knee jerked, trying to free my foot from her grip.
“Sorry,” I sputtered.
With a heavy thumb, Jenna rubbed the sensitive area again.
My apology disappeared into high-decibel giggles. In another second, I’d be shrieking.
Nobody had touched the soles of my feet for so long, I’d forgotten how ticklish I was.
I clamped my lips shut and willed myself to stay silent and hold still.
Grinning, Jenna tried once more to finish the job.
I kicked involuntarily and my foot grazed her arm.
“Stop,” I gasped. “Please stop. I can’t stand it.”
Reluctant
