Adam Mendoza

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When Tess came out of the shower, the sun was coming up. “They’ll know we’re gone,” I whispered. “We need to leave.” The lady let me use her phone to make a few long-distance calls to my friends in LA. One of my guy friends bought us train tickets, and our fairy godmother gave us a ride to the station. “Good luck.” She gave me a hug and drove away.
Paris: A Memoir for Young Women in the Age of Influencers
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