Five years ago.
Krysta and her roommate Sydney stepped out of the airport shuttle in front of Julie Ravner's modest Northshore home. As they stepped out of the air-conditioned van, the humid Midwest summer enveloped them like a blanket. Anticipating the heat, Sydney wore a black tube top and shorts, her red hair shimmering in the sun. Krysta, still wearing her baggy, long-sleeve sweater, adjusted her glasses and fanned her face with a New Yorker magazine. Neither of the two had seen nor heard from their former classmate since she'd dropped out following their sophomore year and moved to Northshore. They were surprised when, a year later, Julie offered to fly them both out to visit for a long weekend.
Julie emerged from the front door and ran over to embrace both of them, who were shocked to see their notoriously penny-pinching friend clad in name-brand jeans with shiny new sunglasses sitting atop her dyed blonde hair.
"Welcome to Northshore! It’s so great to see you two!"
"Same to you, Jules," Sydney said. "Now, I'm just going to jump right to this: how on Earth did you afford to fly both of us out here?"
"Well, it's been an interesting year for me. For various reasons, I can't tell you much about it. What I can say is, things have gone well for me the past couple months and I've decided to share my good fortune by inviting my friends over for a few days of summer fun and festivity."
"But how did you end up in Northshore in the first place?" Krysta asked.
"NU was my second choice after Stanford, and rent is way cheaper here.
"Still majoring in biology?" said Sydney.
"Art, with an emphasis in photography."
"This is great and all, but I do not like the humidity," Krysta said. "I am already sweating. Can we go inside?"
"You could, ya' know, remove a layer," Sydney said. Krysta frowned and folded her arms underneath her fully-covered yet glaringly evident bust.
"You'll get used to it," Julie said. "There's an awesome swimming quarry not too far from here. There's excellent restaurants, and even some swank bars along the main drag on Empire Street. We'll have plenty to do this weekend."
"Funny," Sydney said, lifting her sunglasses and looking around. "I'd never even heard of Northshore. I can't imagine much goes on here."
Julie gave a slight grin. "In some ways, everything happens in Northshore."
Indeed, it was a week of happenings.
In just a few days, Julie showed her friends all summertime in Northshore had to offer: campus tours, shopping, restaurants, and plenty of sun. Being the first such trip Krysta had taken since entering college, she was game to tag along, though she kept supplies in her bag which she could break out at any opportunity—and there were plenty. She read the latest volume of the International Journal of Robotics Research while Julie and Sydney tried on swimwear. She discreetly proofread a conference white paper while they hung out at a cafe. She responded to mathematics subreddit on her tablet posts over tapas.
On the final day of the trip, Julie introduced them to the Kellsburg freshwater quarry for a Sunday beach outing. As her companions returned from a swim in the crisp, clear water, Krysta reclined in a folding chair beneath a wide beach umbrella reviewing the set theory textbook she'd be using next fall as a TA for Math 161. Sydney and Julie sported their new swimwear while Krysta wore a long, loose button-up shirt and running shorts over a one-piece swimsuit.
"You know, Krys," Sydney said as she applied a layer of sunscreen to her pale, freckled limbs. "It wouldn't hurt to step away from school for, I dunno, five waking minutes?"
"Come on, Syd," Julie replied. "You're better off trying to convince her to wear a two-piece bathing suit and take off that shirt."
Sydney snickered. She lowered her sunglasses as a group of college-aged guys strolled by. They gave Sydney and Julie's figures a once-over, but their gazes settled on Krysta's buxom figure which, while well-hidden, was still apparent. Krysta made eye contact briefly, frowned, and returned her attention to her book. The guys got the message, offered a head nod to Sydney and Julie, and headed on their way.
"Wow, Krys," Julie said. "You've been working on your flirting. Last I saw, you avoided all eye contact whatsoever and disappeared into a hoodie."
"It’s too hot for a sweater."
"I'd assumed you outgrew all of them," Julie said, studying the profile of Krysta's chest. "What are they at now? At least an 'F' I figure."
Krysta sighed. "34G, and growing. If I cannot hide them, I need to at least get my message across."
"And I've been telling you," Sydney said, “you need to take advantage of the power of those things. Toss a dash of allure. Let them think they have a chance. Solidify who's in control. Otherwise, you just look defensive."
"I am defensive. You think I welcome the assault of a thousand eyes?"
"If it puts it in some context," Julie said to Sydney. "When we were in eighth grade, some bitch soccer mom told Krysta her appearance was 'offensive' and asked her to leave the public pool, because her teenage son and his friends couldn't handle the sight of breasts."
"Her husband was staring too," Krysta said, not looking up from her book.
"That's fucked up," Sydney said. "I hope you said something."
"She didn't," Julie said, "but my fourteen-year-old skinny ass had a thing or two to say about it. By the time I got through with that bitch, both of us got kicked out. We've been pals ever since. Krysta, as you can see, still hasn't gotten over it." Krysta did not look up from her book, though she did shake her head dismissively.
"Well, I still think that look of yours needs work, but I'll drop it. In the meantime, I've got a look of my own to cultivate." Sydney stood, faced Krysta and Julie, and straightened her sunglasses. She held her phone up and took a series of selfies with the beach behind her. Then she handed the camera to Krysta and posed while Krysta snapped several more shots.
"For posterity?" Julie said, entertained by the spectacle.
"Instagram," Krysta said flatly, handing the phone back to Julie. "It is a new photo-based social network for narcissists. How have you not heard of it?"
"Because I do real photography?"
"Whatever," Sydney said. "It's an absolute dream-come-true for web models. I've been on for a month, and I've already got over three thousand followers. It's also a great supplement for my webcam career. My goal is to save some money and hopefully dance my way through law school.” Sydney elbowed Krysta. “I keep telling this one to hop on the web model train, but yeah, no."
"I do not dance," Krysta said.
"You don't have to! Shit, Krys, just sit there on camera in a bra and read a book. That alone would be worth at least fifteen bucks a month out of most guys' pockets. There are girls without half your goods that are making bank doing this."
"Topless or not, I could do a really tastefully sexy shoot for you," Julie said. "You'd be beautiful in front of the camera." Julie leaned toward Sydney. "Believe me, I've seen this girl in pretty much every state of undress."
"I will never consider it," Krysta said. "I am a mathematician and a robotics geek, not a model.” Krysta gently bowed her head towards Julie. “Thank you for the compliment."
"No problem," Julie said. "I've said all I need to. Now, you two shut up and let me get my sun."
"What is wrong with this blouse?" Krysta said. The blouse in question was white and collared. With it she wore a brown pencil skirt and black loafers.
“If you were going to a job interview, nothing. But we're going to a club, and while I realize we're all freshly twenty-one, aiming for late thirties is a bit much."
"It's a lovely blouse," Sydney said to Krysta. "You've also got lovely cleavage that's in need of a little air." She reached over and unbuttoned three buttons, pulling the corners down until the edges of Krysta's black bra were visible. "There we go!"
Krysta gaped with horror at her reflection in Julie's bedroom mirror. "I am not going out looking like this."
"We're thousands of miles away from anyone you would know. You'll get some stares, but nothing you don’t already know how to handle. Come on, just for tonight, quit being Lan Dinh, Stanford honor student and be Krysta, the sexy, busty Vietnamese chick."
"But try so hard not to be her," Krysta paused. "Wait—"
"That right there speaks volumes," Sydney said, turning to Julie, who smiled in agreement.
"Really, Krys," Julie said. "It's a good look for you. Actually, it's the right look for you."
Krysta studied her reflection again. It wasn't that she didn't recognize the girl in the mirror. She did. She saw some of herself. She also saw another girl: the girl who let her sex appeal define her. She saw the girl that didn't need to major in Mathematics at Stanford because she could find a rich guy to pay her bills for her.
"I know what you see," Julie said, putting her hands on Krysta's shoulders. "There is a middle ground. Stop being so defensive, and take control of who you are. All of who you are."
Krysta took a breath and straightened her posture, then looked down at her bountiful cleavage in all its glory. "It is quite the look." Krysta removed her glasses, and squinted at her reflection in the mirror. She tossed her hair and looked in the general direction of Julie and Sydney. "Eh? Glasses off?"
"No," both said in unison.
For Krysta and Sydney's final night in Northshore, Julie took them to Vino Veritas, where the three girls shared two bottles of wine and several rounds of hors d'oeuvres. Krysta chatted with the bartender, who explained to her the different types of reds, offering her a pinot noir on the house. An hour later, the girls made their way in high spirits down the street to The Sensation, where they danced, drank, and laughed until well after midnight. Krysta let herself relax and enjoy the company of her friends, as well as the attention of more than a few admirers. She'd left her bag of books at home, and she would only pick up her phone to look up lyrics to a Demi Lovato song.
Toward the end of the evening, a tipsy Sydney asked a bartender to take their picture. She stood in the middle with Julie and Krysta flanking her on each side. The DJ announced last call, and Krysta and Julie headed to the bathroom while Sydney pulled up the group picture. Krysta had leaned into the photo, displaying a breathtaking chasm of cleavage. As much as Sydney knew Krysta would hate it, there was no way—drunk as she was—to convince herself not to post it. This picture would be engagement gold, and she'd ask for forgiveness later.
The post gathered as many likes in two days as Sydney had followers twice over. As Sydney had anticipated, Krysta reacted to her public unveiling remarkably well, and—after several glasses of wine—stopped in to say hi to her new fans during one of Sydney's chats. Within a month she had started her own Instagram. In another month, she'd garnered more than twice as many followers as Sydney (who had doubled hers since the summer). By Christmas, Julie was flying out to Palo Alto with her camera for a private photo shoot. A present for her friend.