Chapter 3I keep improving, so I confirm the walk with Moss. Then I spend a stupid amount of time worrying about what to wear, and not even scolding myself in the mirror for being ridiculous—it’s a slow walk in the park, not a date in a fancy restaurant—helps alleviate the stress.
It might be only a walk, but I still want to look good. In the end, I pick my nicest work-out pants, a T-shirt that used to stretch across my chest but now is sadly loose. Covering it with a hoodie hides the worst, even if that, too, has gotten too big. My reflection isn’t encouraging. My skin is so pale it’s almost translucent, my brown hair is a mess in dire need of a haircut, and I’m f*****g skinny despite Anne and Rosa’s best efforts to feed me.
I’m not a vain person, but the sight of myself makes me want to
