For my part, I kept looking down at my breasts. They weren't very big, but they were mine. Home grown. I grew them myself, I said to myself proudly, from all-natural ingredients. They were the same size as the little bags I used to use for padding, but these babies were real, and they wouldn't shift or fall out.

The funeral was not so sad, really. Even though I had a black dress of my own, Alice insisted on lending me one of hers — a stretchy wool dress. I was afraid it would be itchy, but it wasn't at all, and I liked the way it hung on me.

When I imagined the funeral, I pictured all of us standing around a hole in the ground, crying. Instead, since Mr. Bruce was cremated, there was a short service in a plain little chapel, and then the coffin was rolled away. There were people sobbing, but Alice had cried so much at the wake, I don't think she had any more tears in her.

The whole time we were sitting, Alice kept a tight grip on my left arm. When we stood up, I took the opportunity to move to the other side of her. She immediately grabbed my right arm and hung on tight. She still had that look of being lost.

For my part, I kept looking down at my breasts. They weren't very big, but they were mine. Home grown. I grew them myself, I said to myself proudly, from all-natural ingredients. They were the same size as the little bags I used to use for padding, but these babies were real, and they wouldn't shift or fall out.

"So what happens now?" I asked Aunt Jane.

"We go to a little reception."

Mr. Bruce's family had hired a hall nearby. Aunt Jane drove us. Denise sat in front, and Alice and I sat in back. Alice still had my arm tight in her grip. I wanted to tell her to let go, but I knew she needed it, so I kept my mouth shut. When we got out of the car, I switched sides again. I did that as often as I could. The only time she let go was when someone gave her a hug.

Denise came by and asked, "How are you doing, kid?"

"My arms hurt a little," I whispered. "Can you let Alice hang on to you for a while?"

"I'll try," she said, "but I think she wants you."

Alice emerged from the hug, and turned to look for me. Denise had placed herself between us, and said, "Alice, want to take my arm for a while?"

Alice didn't answer. She just looked at Denise with big, sad eyes.

I couldn't take it. I walked toward her, and her hands moved like magnets toward my arm. She took possession of it, squeezing hard. "Alice," I asked as gently as I could. "Could you please not grip so tight?"

She gave me a weak smile, and loosened for a moment. An instant later she reverted to her vise-like grip. I didn't ask her again.

I've thought about it a lot, then and after, but I don't know why she latched onto me. I met her mother and brother and sister, and even though she hugged them several times and cried all over them, in the end she always came back to holding my arm.

Could it have been because we were the same height? I wondered — with her clutching my arm and standing so close — whether we might look like Siamese twins, but we're so different, different clothes, different hairstyles, different shapes... Some people guessed I was her daughter, so at least the age difference was obvious... Anyway, it was a mystery, and I didn't dare ask why.

The rest of the week was similar. Denise and I camped out at Alice's house. Denise pretty much kept things going, preparing the meals and cleaning up after, while I sat with Alice. I had to do my homework during lunch hour, because Alice was stuck on me all week. We started going on walks together. Wednesday morning we were both up early, and there was nothing to do, so I suggested we go out. I was getting a bit stir-crazy.

It turned out to be an inspired choice. At last she didn't need to hang on to me. She just walked. And she talked. And talked and talked and talked. I didn't need to ask questions or even say uh-huh or nod. She poured out words nonstop. She told me all about her and Donny: how they met, how he proposed, where they thought they were going as a couple. She told me about the miscarriages. She didn't cry, she just wiped her eyes now and then.

When I got home from school that day, she wanted to walk again, and after dinner we walked a third time. It was the same thing on Thursday and Friday. I got to hear a lot more than I ever wanted to know about what it was like to be married. I admit that a lot of it was interesting. There was a lot I had never thought about. I never realized that when you get married, you start living with another person that you haven't grown up with — I mean, you never imagine that marriage can hinge on things like thermostat settings and furniture choices and what goes into tuna salad...

Some of what she said really made me blush. She talked about pretty intimate, physical stuff. Sure I was kind of curious, but I didn't really want that level of detail. Too much information! But I kept my mouth shut and listened and walked.

I'm no psychologist, but I could see it was doing her good. She wasn't weepy or lost any more, and when I got up on Saturday, she had already been out for a jog and was fixing herself breakfast. She served me fruit salad, eggs, and toast. Her mood was a lot better. She was more like the old Alice.

Oh. There's something that I forgot to tell you, what with all the talk of the funeral and crying and whatnot.

The tea kept on working. Every day, my breasts were a little bigger and nicer. By Saturday morning, when Alice was handing me my breakfast plate, they'd gone from being half-apple size to more like full-apple size. Not big apples, but nice apples.

Nobody noticed but me, since Aunt Jane was doing her night shifts and sleeping in the daytime. At lunch time in the cafeteria I was sitting by myself, doing homework as I ate, so I didn't have time to talk with Carla and Eden. I'm pretty sure Eden saw the change when we were in gym class, but she didn't have a chance to say anything. Now my chest was almost as big as hers. Not quite, but almost.

I kind of wanted to keep it to myself as long as I could. After all, I wasn't doing anything wrong, was I? But I got careless. I mean, it was Saturday morning, I was still half-asleep, and I didn't expect Alice to have come out from her "lost" cloud.

I sitting at the table, wearing long cotton pajama pants, a tank top, and a light bathrobe. My robe was open, and I wasn't wearing a bra. Alice sat across from me, crunching on a piece of bacon. She suddenly stopped chewing.

"Is that you?" she asked in a shocked tone.

"What do you mean?" I replied, trying my best to sound innocent as I pulled my robe closed.

"You know what I mean! Look at you! Oh my god, you are so busted, girl! I've got to call your aunt!"

"Uh," I said stupidly, wishing I was more awake. I should have seen this coming! "She's asleep. You can't wake her."

"I can wake her, and I will wake her!" She picked up the phone and dialed a number. As it continued ringing, she frowned and scoffed, "Voicemail." Then, after a wait: "Janey, it's me, Allie. Call me as soon as you hear this. If you could come over, it would be even better. It's about your nephew-slash-niece, Mark/Marcie. She's up to something and you need to know about it. Bye."

Alice turned to me. "So what did you do? Where do you get the hormones?"

"I'm not taking hormones!" I said. "I'm not doing anything!"

She shook her head. "You're going to need a better story than that for your aunt!"

Just then, the phone rang. Alice still held it in her hand, so she answered on the first ring.

"Yeah. Janey? Oh, I'm good. I'm fine. It's this girl you left over here! She's got breasts! ... Breasts, yeah! ... Big enough! ... Yes! YES! No... No, I asked, and she said no. ... Okay... Okay... Right... Bye."

Alice looked at me. "She's on her way over. And she is on fire. So what did you do?"

My aunt didn't appear for about twenty minutes, which was odd. When she did arrive, she was mad. Not boiling mad or hopping mad, but a cold, scary mad. By that time, I'd fessed up to Alice about the tea, and brought out the paper bag I'd gotten from Mrs. Earshon. There was just a little bit in the bottom, not quite enough for a cup. I'd been using the supply that Cassie gave me since Monday, but hadn't gotten around to throwing the old bag away.

"Is this all of it?" Alice asked.

"Yes," I said, while thinking, That's all that's in that bag, yes. So it wasn't *technically* a lie. Not a lie-lie, anyway.

The first thing my aunt said was, "Don't even ask whether I'm going to call your parents. I am. I have to. But first you have an appointment right now with a doctor, so put some clothes on." She opened my robe and looked at my chest. Her face went white. She drew in a breath and said, "Jeez almighty!" before she turned away and fell heavily into a chair.

Alice grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me around and pushed me away. "Go get dressed," she whispered.

I was shaking as I put my clothes on. For some reason, I wanted to wear pants today, but — surprise — they weren't part of my wardrobe. I pulled on the outfit from my first day as Marcie — the aqua skirt and white top. It was comfortable, and it was right there. I listened to as much of the conversation between Alice and Jane as possible, and came out as soon as I could.

"You need a coat," Jane barked, so I went and got one.

"Sorry, Alice," I said softly as we left.

She shrugged and gave me a smile when Jane's back was turned. Then she ran over and gave me a hug. As she did she whispered, "Thanks for helping me so much this week. Tell me how it goes with the doctor!"