Although I barely know Tripp, it’s clear he has his mother’s family’s fingerprints all over him. He’s not all bad, but the silver-spoon, image-obsessed genes are there. I could tell by the way he introduced me to people and the way they patted him on the back with that knowing look in their eyes. Like he was downright heroic for welcoming me back into his life. Truthfully, I didn’t care. They can all say what they want about me. But teasing Gwen about her eating habits felt like a backhanded way of criticizing her body. And that set me off.
