Scarlett’s POV “What do you mean by being a boy?” I asked, not ready to accept what she was suggesting. “No offense, but you've got pretty nice boobs.” Michelle complimented. “Oh, thank you. What's the offense?” “I can easily press it down with a piece of white bandage, and no one would know it's there.” Michelle said. “I hate you.” I beat her playfully, and she chuckled. She was right though. I do have pretty boobs, but they're also small. I also have a very flat backside, unlike Michelle who has loads of both front and back loads. The only thing I could brag about against anyone was my face card, and my intelligence , which eluded me several times. “So, if we press both down, and I start dressing like a boy, what would happen to my hair?” I asked, and she looked at it. “We'll cut the sides, and I'll make it into cornrows, so you'll look like a boy.” Michelle said. “A pretty boy.” “Fuck, this is a bad idea.” I sighed. “It is, but at least it'd work. The boys might be fig
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