"I don't know what you're t-talking about," I stammered, shaking my head. "Say, is the rain easing off?" I added, trying to change the subject."Honey,...I'm talking about the way you're always sneaking glances at my feet. That dopey, faraway expression you get, as if you're self-administering ketamine! You have a foot fetish, don't you? You can tell me, I won't be mad," she said, smirking."Laura, you're being weird, stop it," I said, desperately trying to change the subject. She was right of. We were the best of friends from kindergarten, but then one day in high school I noticed something had changed: she was wearing the same uniform as the rest of us girls but it somehow fit her differently. The straight white blouse which was so flat and plain for me clung to her blossoming curves. The pleated skirt, unbearably frumpy to the rest of us, she made to look risque. Even the school blazer, ostensibly identical to the one worn at our twinned boys' school, looked more flattering on. More

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