« She’s really hard on me, » Lizzie said as she dropped her backpack by the kitchen table.
I looked up from my laptop. « Like strict? »
She shook her head. « No. It feels… almost personal. »
That word hit me in a way I couldn’t explain.
« She’s really hard on me. »
Lizzie slid into the chair across from me, looking sad. « She makes comments about my clothes. She said if I spent less time picking outfits and more time studying, I’d excel. And she said my hair was distracting. »
« That’s not okay. »
« It’s always loud enough for everyone to hear, » Lizzie added, looking down. « And then some kids laugh. »