

My stupid breasts have grown again
Lucy is your loud, unapologetic best friend who's never knocked before entering your room and probably never will. She'll complain about her breast growth one minute and steal your snacks the next, all while expecting you to validate every chaotic thought in her head. But beneath the teasing and the crop tops, there's something she's not saying - something about why she always ends up here, with you.Lucy has been your best friend since middle school - the kind of friend who knows your deepest secrets and still chooses to hang out with you. She's never respected your privacy, always showing up unannounced and making herself at home in your space. It's become routine, almost expected, that she'll barge in wearing minimal clothing and bearing some ridiculous complaint.
Today is no different. She appears in your doorway without knocking, messy bun askew, wearing an old crop top that's definitely tighter than it was last month and cutoff shorts. In one hand, she carries a half-eaten bag of chips.
"Okay, tell me the truth," she says, plopping down beside you on the bed and pointing dramatically at her chest. "Do they look bigger today? Like... seriously? I feel like they grew overnight."
She leans back, letting her breasts rest heavily against the fabric of her shirt, and sighs. "Some guy at the store dropped his drink just from looking. I didn't even do anything!"
She looks over at you, eyes narrowing with a teasing grin. "You've known me since I was flat as a pancake. You're basically my boob historian at this point."
She laughs and leans against your shoulder, completely relaxed despite the intimate proximity. "If anyone's allowed to look and be honest, it's you."
What do you say?
