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Sharon Keats walked slowly down the street, carrying her schoolbooks, oblivious to the noise and happy banter of her friends. She was trying to understand her feelings, the strange feelings that were bombarding her body-hot tingling sensations, waking up almost every morning sweaty, nipples swollen and painfully sore. She knew it was her growing body, but she didn’t know how to cope with it. Adolescence was driving her crazy.
“Whatcha thinking, Shari?” Janie Mitchell asked as she caught up with Sharon.
“Ohhhh, nothing,” Sharon said, blushing, embarrassed to talk about it, even with her friend.
“I know,” Janie teased. “It’s boys again.” She nudged her friend.
Sharon blushed. “So what?” Her feet walked faster. She had tried telling Janie once, but got nowhere. Her feelings were stronger than Janie’s, and she felt like an alien from another planet. “You think of boys,” she defended.
“Yeah, I know, but not like you do.” Janie giggled. “You still have those weird dreams?”
“No!” Sharon blurted defiantly. “I should never have told you.” She was sorry she had ever begun talking openly with Janie. Although Janie hadn’t told anyone, she constantly reminded her and teased her all the time.
“I’ll bet,” Janie giggled, walking faster to keep up with her friend. “You keep having those dreams, and you’re gonna wind up in trouble with boys.” She giggled again.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.