My shame seeped into a frothing rage. The type of rage that can’t be let out because then you’d be that crazy chick that killed three dudes in the bodega and no one would even light a damn candle for you. I wondered what dudes like them really expected of girls like me in those situations. Like, did they want me to drop to my knees in the middle of the supermarket and orally worship their Ds? And damn, was it really so wrong to wear something that made me feel confident and sexy-ish? I prayed that la Virgen would get me out of the hood forever.
