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I suppose I could have called Amanda. Picking out a bathing suit? She would have loved to get in on that action—but this was even more private than shopping for a new b*a.
I haven’t worn a swimsuit since the summer between 6th and 7th grade. That’s when my boobs started coming in. And everything else—the stomach, the butt, the whole Fat Cat package.
I used to be able to live off of Doritos and Snickers and other fine food products all summer long, and just get back in the pool and work it all off. But somehow that summer my fat outpaced my exercise, and I was one roly-poly swimmer. It didn’t really matter because I was still the strongest girl in my age group on the team, but I did start feeling a little self-conscious standing around in my bathing suit without the team T-shirt to co
