My First Forbidden Touch: Awakening in the Boarding School Showers
The terminale dorm reeked of summer sweat, heavy velvet curtains barely blocking the midnight light. Past midnight, sheets kicked off, Clémence and I tossed in our twin beds, boxes separated by polished wood partitions. Heart hammering, I whispered, ‘Can’t sleep, Boutchou?’ Her sigh: ‘Too hot. Need a shower.’ The mistress’s light was out. ‘Prep showers…