Lila
I looked at Nina’s mother, wishing sometimes that she was my mom because she genuinely cares about me.
“Have you ever wished you were someone else?” I asked her.
She let out a little laugh. “All the time, sweetie, all the time. Sometimes I wish I were one of those Hollywood actresses. They have the money to hire personal trainers and chefs to help them bounce back to their pre-baby bodies in just six weeks. If I had someone to motivate me and cook healthy meals, I’d definitely lose weight,” she told me.
I smiled and set my soup spoon down. “That would be nice. I know I try too hard, but I hate that I don’t fit in at school,” I admitted.
“Is that what makes you so upset? That you don’t fit in?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Kinda, but it’s something else,” I replied.
“I didn’t fit in
