Tessa

I couldn’t focus on the conversation the two girls were having, they were looking at clothes that they wanted me to try on when we got to the mall in a few days. All I could think about was the fact that the paper needed the money.

“What size pants do you wear, Tessa?” Cheryl asked while she stared at her iPhone’s screen avidly.

“An 8 or a 10, just depends,” I replied, not really paying attention, I was proud to say my new size. I’d done well to watch my weight and lose a few pounds in the last year. It’d helped me a little bit with my confidence when I came here, but obviously hadn’t helped my closet. It was true, that most of my clothes were in my old size, there was something satisfying with wearing something that didn’t fit. Pants that were too tight, were now joggers. Then again, they weren’t sexy, I wasn’t a Tomboy, but maybe they were right, I should have been focusing on clothes not worrying about the paper which was all I seemed to do morning, noon and night.

That was when it