I stood, looking at myself in the mirror. It was one of the first times that I actually liked what I saw there, in that thing I hated so much. I never liked my appearance. Maybe it was me, or just because I really wasn't that pretty, but I was almost sure that it was the ugly and fat comments by my father and sister. I knew it was, but I just couldn't bring myself to call myself pretty. But there, in his clothes, I felt like I belonged, and I felt like I was remotely good-looking. I smiled at myself in the mirror, threw my hair up into a bun atop my head, and nervously took a hold of the doorknob.
I sighed before I opened it, not expecting what I saw. Josh was digging in his dresser again, stuffing the clothes that he had tossed out back into it and pulling out two shirts—which he did not
