What happens when your mind cannot tell the difference between dreams and reality? You guessed that right. You lose all sense of composure and are on edge. All-day.
"Having boy trouble?"
"What?"
"You look like you are having some boy trouble," my mother repeated.
"Why would you even assume that?"
"It's written all over your face, pumpkin," she replied.
"Well, no. I am not having boy trouble," I lied.
"Okay then," she said, returning to her coffee. "There is some soup, meatballs, and rice if you are really hungry."
"Thanks, I'll pack that for lunch."
"No school food today?" She pressed.
"I do not feel like it," I said, taking out my lunchbox.
"Mila, are you really going to school today?"
"Mother, please stop with the cross-examination. I am not a criminal on a stand," I shot back, smiling weakly. "And yes, I am going to school. I just prefer to eat home food today."
