it’s junior year of high school. i’m sitting in my best friend’s living room and her mom maunders on about how i spend too much time on my phone.
“you can’t write instagram captions for a living, zoe.”
actually, mrs. johnson, turns out i can.
it’s junior year of high school. i’m sitting in my best friend’s living room and her mom maunders on about how i spend too much time on my phone.
“you can’t write instagram captions for a living, zoe.”
actually, mrs. johnson, turns out i can.