One night, we sat on the steps outside his dorm, passing a bag of gummy bears back and forth.
The campus buzzed around us — kids laughing, couples walking hand-in-hand, someone playing guitar badly somewhere nearby.
"I miss this," I said softly, staring up at the stars.
Jasper bumped his shoulder against mine.
"You can have this, Britt," he said. "A real life. Not just one someone else made for you."
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to believe him so badly.
---
By the end of the two weeks, I felt different.
Softer. Stronger. Like maybe I was more than a hanger for designer clothes.
I had gained three kilos, sure. But I had gained so much more:
Laughter. Memories. Pieces of myself I thought I had lost.
When Jasper dropped me off at the airport, he hugged me so tightly my bones creaked.
"Don’t let them take you apart again, okay?" he whispered against my hair.
"You’re enough. You always have been."
I clung to his words the whole flight back.
I clung to the memory of that girl who laughed by the river and ate burgers without shame.
I clung to her all the way home.
---
And then I landed in L.A.
And the first thing my mother did was strip her away from me. With just a phone call.
---
The second I arrived at the mansion, Mom was waiting.
Her face tightened the moment she saw me.
She gasped dramatically, clutching her pearls like some soap opera villain.
"Brittany!" she cried. "What have you DONE to yourself?"
I froze in the doorway, suitcase bumping against my leg.
"It's three kilos, Mom," I said. Quiet. Defensive. Already defeated.
"Three kilos?!" she shrieked, stalking toward me in her silk robe and stilettos.
"Three kilos is a CAREER-ENDER, Brittany! Your FACE is ROUND. Your thighs—" she clucked her tongue disapprovingly, "—you look common."
