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Summary
“Chase,” She says, slowly, silence punctuating her words. “That is what normal breasts look like. Not some porn influenced fantasy. Normal. That’s how they look without a bra on, that’s how they’re supposed to look, and I am perfectly happy with the breasts that I have, and nobody’s ever found me any less attractive for them. Alright?”
“I- uh, yeah, just, give me a minute?” She says, swallowing.
“No, you’re not getting a minute. Pause whatever anatomical reaction you’re having to this. Look at me. My body is normal. Your body is normal. And you don’t need to stuff it with silicone to make it look a different way to make yourself seem more attractive, because it won’t work. And I think you look pretty damn attractive, just the way you are.” Cameron says, in a flat, orderly voice, not taking breaks to breathe. “You sit with that for a minute. You look like you need it.”
OR:
Chase thinks she has a reason to dislike her body. Her friends prove her wrong. And they’re all vets.