When the bell rang, releasing us to fifth period, I was finally able to relieve myself since the girls didn’t care what we did in front of each other. The teacher for fifth period was always five to ten minutes late to class, which gave us enough time to count our money and record what we earned that day. By the end of lunch, I got money stuffed in my bra, pockets, panties, and shoes. Random teachers who walked past me in the halls gave me strange looks because they noticed that the size of my boobs and butt had plumped up instantly. After I spilled my money out on the desk, counted it, and organized it into neat piles of ones and fives, Tammy recorded what I earned in her notebook.
At the end of class, Tammy awarded the top five earners with a golden star sticker that got bestowed upon each girl’s forehead. I always got a star. Behavior meant everything at lunchtime. The unmannerly girls never made enough earnings to get a star. This may not have been important to all the girls at school, but it was important to me. After all, how else was I supposed to raise enough money to support myself after I graduated? I needed enough money to get to Vegas and find a place to live. I couldn’t go back home. My parents didn’t want a “whorish home wrecker” living in their house.