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I quickly draped a chiffon light yellow and pink saree and wore it low waist as I always did. I finally went to the kitchen where the ladies were working. As soon as I came in, everyone looked at me. Didn’t know what happened now, but the gossip started again.Me: Main aa gayee hun, kya madad karun.Aunty: Aa gayee maharani. Chal ab thali utha and uss room mein saare aadmi baithe hai, unhe dekar aa. Dhyan dena, unhe jo chahiye, jaldi dena. Koi galti nahin honi chahiye.Me: Ji, bilkul.I quickly took the plates and went to the room. All the men (mostly old) were sitting on the floor on a blanket. As soon as I entered everyone started looking at me. I bent down and started serving the plates. Every man was looking at me so seriously. I now started to serve food.In all this effort to serve everything properly. I had no clue my pallu had moved considerably and my cleavage was now on full display. I hadn’t realized until I saw nobody looking at my face anymore while serving. I quickly realized. He said I reminded him of Michelle Pfeifer. I had no idea who he was talking about until we watched one of her movies, it was something about a hawk and a wolf being cursed or something. It was a sweet movie and the knight gets the girl in the end. I guess it’s my blond hair, pale blue eyes and high cheek bones that Anthony found similar. He was always a romantic. I should have never lied to him. He was my first boyfriend. That winter my hormones went into overdrive: my boobs came in and I went from training bra to C-cup by spring. I grew 2-3 inches, my hair got longer, and I started getting a little boy-crazy. Anthony didn’t seem to mind the new body, but I started noticing other boys. He never picked up on that. I started dating a boy or two from other schools. I thought I was really slick, but Anthony found out. He forgave me, but when he found out I still dated this senior from Geneva, he told me to get lost. He didn’t call me a slut or a whore (because he knew I was.
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