Picture by Sophie Blackall
I wanted to look at her all the time, and when she went away to do other things or talk with other girls, I made sad eyes, and sat in a corner and moped. She got very annoyed with this and used to tell me to stop it, to go find someone else to hang out with, but I couldn't stop.
You have to understand: We were in a sleep-away seminary in Israel and we shared a room with a couple of other girls. She was sick at that time. She had a permanent headache and cough that made her weak, and at night, she would cough and cough and moan, and eventually, I would wake up and ask her what was wrong, and she would say that she felt sick and I would ask her what she wanted, what she needed, and every night she said the same thing: Please rub my chest. And this very tznius girl would open up her buttons, just one or two, and point at the area just below her collar bone and say, "It feels so good when you rub it." So I'd climb into the bed right behind her and put my arm over her shoulder and I'd rub that place, and all the time, I was dying. Dying!