"Peter....you shouldn't have done that. If my dad finds out-" I clamped my hand over my mouth."I knew it. He's been touching you, hasn't he?! I'll fucking kill him," Peter spat.Now or never Tia. "Yes he has, and no. Don't get angry Peter."Peter glared at me. He grabbed my arm and yanked up my sleeve, to reveal a trail of black and blue bruises along my arm. I yanked my sleeve back down."He hurt you Tia." Peter whispered. He wrapped his arms around me. It felt so good, but it was so innocent. But I felt so tingly. I felt like moving it forward. Peter was to nice to make a move. This was my chance. To know what feeling good was really like. I pulled away, and looked into Peter's eyes. The friend that had always been there for me, the friend that told his brothers to knock it off when they hit on me, the friend that stayed home playing video-games with me on homecoming cause I didn't have a date. I leaned forward and kissed him. I pressed my lips against his, and crawled forwards,. It was sucha relaxing routine! I would get home from work and race to the bathroomto wash my face and then put on makeup for the evening. I then did onesession on the modification computer, then made a light dinner, fixed upmy makeup, did another session, and then washed it all off and cleansedand moisturized my face for evening.In the mornings, I would wake up early (I was an early bird now, wakingup without an alarm at 6am every day!) get a shower, wash my hair (thecomputer was also spending a lot of time on hair styles), and put onsome light makeup for my early-morning session on the modificationcomputer.One day, I actually walked out the door without washing it off! Butfortunately, I realized my mistake (as I checked my face in my compactmirror) and quickly raced back to wash it off.But I must not have done a very good job, because later that day, myboss, Ben, mentioned it."Are you wearing... makeup?" he asked.My hand jumped up to my cheek, embarrassed."I... I guess," I.
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