Adam Mendoza

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“Paris, your eyes are so blue,” she said. “They’re contacts.” I almost said “thanks,” but then I thought she might be trying to trap me so she could call me out for pretending. (Which reminds me of another rule for life I wish I’d figured out sooner rather than later: STOP FUCKING PRETENDING. It takes too much energy and makes you paranoid.)
Paris: A Memoir for Young Women in the Age of Influencers
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