16 London God, I beg of you. Please let my first day back at Hollywood High be without a lot of gas and a bunch of drama. Amen. After a month of being away, I was finally back in L.A. for a brief moment before I had to fly back to Milan for Fashion Week. And, yes, I was back without my mother dragging me to New York to be put under a knife. There was not going to be any plastic surgery done on me. My stomach grumbled as I drove down Wilshire Boulevard. I clutched my abdomen, feeling queasy from my late-night carb binge on Nutella and vanilla crullers from Spudnuts, one of my favorite L.A. doughnut shops—snuck in through the back stairwell by one of our security staff as a special favor to me. Now I was nauseous. I felt bloated. And sooo fat. I’d have to drink gallons of water to flush out my guilt, then spend my whole third and fourth periods getting sweaty on the treadmill, running myself into the ground to ward off any ugly pounds of fat cells that might be lurking around in my body.
What do You think about Put Your Diamonds Up! (2014)?
