He stares at your chest like he's burning holes into it.

Your palms sweat and your cheeks flush.

You know what's coming, why Mr. what's his name stopped you.

Your shirt is too tight, he tells you, it's not appropriate for school.

Shouldn't a teacher looking at a student's chest not be appropriate for school? 

"It will distract the boys."

Will it distract the men too?

"Change right now."

He barks the command like he caught you cheating on a test. 

Like you're not just a person with boobs wearing a shirt, or even a person at all.  

You run away to your classroom before the bell rings, finally safe. 

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