As I stand in front of the mirror, I examine my breasts. They look fine. But they’re not. Why do they have to be sick? Why can’t my breasts be healthy? I’m only twenty-four. I don’t want to lose my breasts. My fingers quiver as I slide them over the right one on the area where the lump is and that sinking sensation explodes in my guts. I try to pretend it’s not there, but it is. Small and hard, I can feel it. And it doesn’t hurt a bit, which is even scarier. Over and over, my shaky fingers explore it, hoping against hope it’s not there. But it always is.
I hang my head and the burn of tears fills my eyes again. The same shaky hand that felt the lump now moves to my mouth to shield it so my cries are muted. I’m not sure how long I stay like this, but soon, my legs fold beneath me and I end up on the floor, curled up in a ball.
“Sam, sweetie, wake up.” Lauren crouches by my side in the bathroom.
Lifting my pounding head, I stare at her for a second, confused. I’m naked but for my panties and lying on the bathroom floor.
“What’s going on?” I ask, confused.
“I was going to ask the same of you. What are you doing on the floor?”
I swipe the wet mess off my face and sit up, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t want to lose my boobs,” I cry.
“Oh, Jesus, Sam.” And she pulls me into her arms. “I don’t want you to either. But I’d rather you lose your boobs, than lose you. I wish I could give you mine.”
“What’s going on in here?” Berkeley sticks her head in the door.
Lauren answers, “Sam’s having a rough moment.”
“I’m sure she is. But if she’d get dressed and come out of there, she could have her rough moment with the girls and we could help her get through it.”
I lift up my head and say, “I don’t want to lose my boobs.”
“Is that what this is all about?” Berkeley asks.
“Yeah,” Lauren and I say at the same time.
“Then let’s have a titty party,” Berkeley yells.
Lauren asks, “Don’t you mean pity party?”
“Hell no. I mean titty party. Get your ass off the floor and put a shirt on or you’re gonna have to party naked.”
“You’d better do it,” Lauren says.
She’s right. Knowing Berkeley, she’ll drag my naked ass in the living room, boobs bared, and won’t give a shit what I say.
I go to my closet and start putting on a bra.
Berkeley snatches it out of my hand. “Nope. You won’t be needing that for a titty party. Just put on a T-shirt.” I grab one and throw it on. And some boxers. Then we all go out to the living room and all the girls are there.
“Yay! She’s up,” Hayley says.
“That’s right and we’re having a titty party. Everyone has to take off their bras.” All the girls look at Berkeley like she’s lost her mind. “Come on. Sam doesn’t want to lose her boobs, so we’re having a titty party. Bras off.”
Everyone takes them off and hangs them on Berkeley’s extended finger.
“Excellent. This is what we’re going to do. Sam doesn’t want to lose her boobs, but we don’t want to lose Sam. So we’re all going to take off our shirts and then each of us is going to tell Sam why we’d rather lose our boobs than lose her. Who wants to go first?”
Lauren steps up to the plate. She rips off her shirt and stands naked from the waist up.
“Sam, first off, I’d give you my boobs, but you probably wouldn’t want them since they’re a quarter the size of yours.”
Everyone boos her and I laugh.
“But second, I would gladly give up my boobs to keep you around because life without you would be like mashed potatoes without the gravy. You have been my best friend since I can remember. You are the sweet to my tea and I can’t even imagine taking one step without you beside me. I would wander the face of this Earth like a lost soul without you. And boobs, what are they anyway? Just two humps on your chest. So you can’t breastfeed when you have kids. Big fucking deal. If that’s the only price you’ll have to pay for your life, Sam, then by God, take it and run. Take it, Sam, and live. Please!”
She wipes her face when she’s done, and so do I.
I stand and give her a big hug. “I love you, too, you big goon.”
Next comes Berkeley.
“Okay, Miss Calhoun.” She rips off her shirt and shimmies. “How do you like them apples?”
Everyone claps and whistles.
“If you for one minute are worried about keeping boobs over life, then fuck that shit. I, for one, will kick your skinny ass all the way over the Cooper River. I mean, we’re all together in this. This is not just you, sister. Those are not just your boobs. They are our boobs. And if getting rid of them is going to save your life, save our group, then we are kicking their asses out. Got it?”
Everyone whistles again and cheers.
“And we’ll get you a nice and shiny new pair that will look as pretty as can be. Because in the end, the only thing that matters is that you’re here, Sam. That’s it. We don’t give a shit about anything else. Got it? We love you and we’re going to be with you one hundred percent of the way in this.” And she grabs me and hugs me, squishing her boobs against me so hard, I’m afraid they’ll pop.
The rest of the girls give their own testimonies, one by one, telling me how much they love me and refuse to let me walk down this road alone. By the time Hayley goes, it’s decided that we are all one giant set of boobs to be shared by all. I have this image in my head of two tits taking over Charleston, and I die laughing.