I am so sweaty by the time that I actually get to the mall that I actually do exactly what I told Patrick in the hallway I was going to do. I wait until I don’t see anyone at all and then I sneak into the disabled toilets and lock the door behind me, hoping that there would not be a disabled person who turns up while I am trying to wash myself off a bit and put on one of the two clean shirts that I carry around in my backpack.
I can’t help but look at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair looks almost as mousy as what Andy’s hair looked the day that Mandy chased him out of the drama class. Maybe being poor had an effect on your hair? What does bother me a bit is the dark rings underneath my eyes, even though I don’t feel as tired anymore. Maybe it’s just worry? Mom and I have been taking
