The first line of Whitney & Freddy is:
“The New Girl is Stacked.” And so it begins.
I’m an old white guy, 78 years old. But this book suddenly started writing itself. Of course, the book is about much more than a high school girl with large breasts on a slender body. But it worries me.
I think I know a little something about this. Not big breasts, particularly, but a high school kid who hates the way they look. I didn’t attend school one day between Thanksgiving and Christmas during my freshman year. I was a five-foot-tall, 72-pound kid from a country school, and the PE locker room wasn’t fun.
Back to the girl with big breasts; I did some research. I asked friends and read articles. Lots of girls are hassled about their chests in high school. Kids are hassled about many physical features. Some may say, “Whitney is pretty with a beautiful figure. What does she have to gripe about?”
What do I know? But I have well-endowed friends who didn’t find the experience all that easy. Whitney’s biggest problem, other than having an irrational fear of hugging, is that she can’t tell if a boy likes her for herself. She is much more than this one thing.
Whitney’s story fell onto the screen as fast as I could type, as did Freddy’s story, with his own set of problems. It’s a good book, but I worry.
183 total views, 3 views today
