She was so lucky.
Friends.
Several of them.
All of them kind and real and amazing.
School.
So kind and real and amazing.
Nobody scans her as she walks the halls.
Nobody judges her every choice.

Nobody notices when she chooses to eat information instead of food.
Nobody realizes she notices the little glances just barely within her sight
     Or the muffled snickers
     Or the sly comments.

Nobody knows how absolutely aware she is.
Nobody hears her trembling breaths in the bathroom
silenced by the palm of her hand.
Nobody could ever know how hard it is to ignore all of it;
                                              how hard it is to not hate yourself;
                                              how hard it is to hide everything
carefully packaged under the confines of her undershirt.

Nobody can tell that inside those bulging rolls is simply a girl with social anxiety and insecurities beyond mental health.
Nobody sees her bury her feelings in her sparse salads and amaranthine assignments.
Nobody sees her.