Chapter 20

Getting home, I kick my shoes off across the hall and throw down my jacket and bag in another rage. I seem to come home feeling this way every single day now. My front door meets a daily temper tantrum, and my blood pressure hasn’t been normal in months.

My day started bad and only ended up close to tears when the ‘mean girls’ managed to rile me up at every opportunity, and then one of them fell over my mannequin, hauling my pinned dress with her and ripping it off the stand. A whole day’s work was wasted adjusting a finished piece and a full week of finishing the goddamn thing. I feel like giving up. I so wanted to punch her in the face and stomp on her head, but I kept telling myself that I needed to breathe and count to ten before reacting. Just like Arry showed me… Breathe, and don’t kill anyone.

It’s practically my mantra, fifty times a day.

I walked out early, took all my drawings and dress, and cleared my workspace in five seconds flat. Unable to control the