Jessa

I stood in front of my mirror, arms crossed, staring at my reflection like maybe if I glared hard enough, the girl staring back at me would disappear and someone else would take her place.

My hair was still freshly styled from yesterday, thanks to Mariah’s cousin, but even with the soft curls framing my face, I couldn’t see what Mariah saw. She swore up and down that I looked “amazing” and “so different.”

I just saw me.

The same round face, the same curves I hated, ...