Jessa

The mirror has always been my enemy.

Most nights, I try not to look. I throw my hoodie on the chair, pull on pajamas, and crawl under the covers without giving the glass across my room a second glance. But tonight… I can’t help it.

Noah’s words are still stuck in my head. Thick thighs. The way everyone laughed. The way Jackson didn’t even think to defend me—he just laughed too, like it was harmless. Like it was fine.

My eyes flick toward the mirror, and before I can stop ...