cute guy.
The fatter I got, the more Jennie Smith flirted with Jett. In fact, she’d invited him to her indoor pool party the week before, and she hadn’t invited me. I knew all about the party. Everyone at school was talking about it. They all just assumed I had been invited. I didn’t tell them different.
Then, in study hall, Amber had told me that Jenniehad told her that she hadn’t invited me. But that Jennie had invited Jett. “I’m telling you this as a friend,” Amber had said. “I don’t think it’s right.”
I didn’t ask Jett about it, because I knew he wasn’t going to the party. We had a date that night. He was going to hide the invitation from me, to spare my feelings.
Then, the day before her party, Jennie had stopped over at my house. And she had explained why she hadn’t invited me.
“I didn’t want you to be embarrassed, Lara,” she had told me, all sweetness and light. “I mean,
you
? In a
bathing suit
? I wouldn’t put you through the
humiliation
!”
My hands tightened on my steering wheel as if it were Jennie Smith’s throat. Murder colored my most vivid fantasies.
Lunch. I wanted to eat lunch. I vowed to stay on my diet. Wendy’s had a salad bar. I pulled into the parking lot of the Wendy’s on White Bridge Road, grabbed my purse, and went in.
“Welcome to Wendy’s, can I take your order?” asked a short guy with a blond crew cut and bad skin. I recognized him, but clearly he didn’t recognize me. Jimmy Porter. I had sat next to him the year before in history. He’d had a hard time keeping up, and some of the kids used to goof on him. I’d heard he’d transferred to a private school.
“Just the salad bar,” I mumbled, trying not to make eye contact.
He cocked his head at me. “You look kinda familiar.”
I shrugged and tried to duck my face down into the neckline of my sweater. It was warm out, but it was still too early in the year for the restaurant to use its airconditioning.I felt flushed, and even though I wasn’t sweating, I knew my fat face was candy-apple red.
“That’ll be four dollars and twenty-nine cents,” Jimmy said. I handed him the money, and he looked at me again. “I know you from somewhere,” he said, handing me my change.
I was about to escape with my plastic salad plate when his face lit up with recognition. “Hey, I know! You’re Lara Ardeche!”
A sickly little smile came to my lips.
“God, what happened to you?” he blurted out. “I mean, no offense or nothing, but, jeez-o-Pete!”
I dropped the plastic plate and ran out the door, practically colliding with two young guys wearing matching Nine Inch Nails T-shirts. “Thar she blows!” one of them yelled after me, and the two of them cracked up.
I sat in my car, shaking, wanting to die. I put my head down on the steering wheel and sobbed.
“Excuse me, ma’am, are you pulling out of that space?”
I looked out my window. In the car next to me were two very cute college-age guys.
“This spot is handicapped parking,” the guy in the passenger seat explained to me. “So if you’re pulling out, we can take your spot.”
“Sure,” I managed, choking back my tears.
“Thanks, ma’am.”
And as I pulled out of the parking space, I realized he had called
ma’am
. He thought I was
old
! Because I was fat.
I had become a sexless, ageless, faceless blob.
I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore.
I was the same person inside, the same girl that those two guys would once have flirted with. Only now I was adifferent girl on the outside, a girl who lived in the land of the fat girls. Teased. Shunned. Pitied. Overlooked.
The only guy who still thought I was beautiful was Jett, whose love I wore like a shield against my exile into fat land.
But without Jett by my side, I was just this disgusting blob. I was nothing. Less than nothing.
I pulled out of Wendy’s parking lot and drove. I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and pull the covers over my head. I wanted to hide forever,
The fatter I got, the more Jennie Smith flirted with Jett. In fact, she’d invited him to her indoor pool party the week before, and she hadn’t invited me. I knew all about the party. Everyone at school was talking about it. They all just assumed I had been invited. I didn’t tell them different.
Then, in study hall, Amber had told me that Jenniehad told her that she hadn’t invited me. But that Jennie had invited Jett. “I’m telling you this as a friend,” Amber had said. “I don’t think it’s right.”
I didn’t ask Jett about it, because I knew he wasn’t going to the party. We had a date that night. He was going to hide the invitation from me, to spare my feelings.
Then, the day before her party, Jennie had stopped over at my house. And she had explained why she hadn’t invited me.
“I didn’t want you to be embarrassed, Lara,” she had told me, all sweetness and light. “I mean,
you
? In a
bathing suit
? I wouldn’t put you through the
humiliation
!”
My hands tightened on my steering wheel as if it were Jennie Smith’s throat. Murder colored my most vivid fantasies.
Lunch. I wanted to eat lunch. I vowed to stay on my diet. Wendy’s had a salad bar. I pulled into the parking lot of the Wendy’s on White Bridge Road, grabbed my purse, and went in.
“Welcome to Wendy’s, can I take your order?” asked a short guy with a blond crew cut and bad skin. I recognized him, but clearly he didn’t recognize me. Jimmy Porter. I had sat next to him the year before in history. He’d had a hard time keeping up, and some of the kids used to goof on him. I’d heard he’d transferred to a private school.
“Just the salad bar,” I mumbled, trying not to make eye contact.
He cocked his head at me. “You look kinda familiar.”
I shrugged and tried to duck my face down into the neckline of my sweater. It was warm out, but it was still too early in the year for the restaurant to use its airconditioning.I felt flushed, and even though I wasn’t sweating, I knew my fat face was candy-apple red.
“That’ll be four dollars and twenty-nine cents,” Jimmy said. I handed him the money, and he looked at me again. “I know you from somewhere,” he said, handing me my change.
I was about to escape with my plastic salad plate when his face lit up with recognition. “Hey, I know! You’re Lara Ardeche!”
A sickly little smile came to my lips.
“God, what happened to you?” he blurted out. “I mean, no offense or nothing, but, jeez-o-Pete!”
I dropped the plastic plate and ran out the door, practically colliding with two young guys wearing matching Nine Inch Nails T-shirts. “Thar she blows!” one of them yelled after me, and the two of them cracked up.
I sat in my car, shaking, wanting to die. I put my head down on the steering wheel and sobbed.
“Excuse me, ma’am, are you pulling out of that space?”
I looked out my window. In the car next to me were two very cute college-age guys.
“This spot is handicapped parking,” the guy in the passenger seat explained to me. “So if you’re pulling out, we can take your spot.”
“Sure,” I managed, choking back my tears.
“Thanks, ma’am.”
And as I pulled out of the parking space, I realized he had called
ma’am
. He thought I was
old
! Because I was fat.
I had become a sexless, ageless, faceless blob.
I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore.
I was the same person inside, the same girl that those two guys would once have flirted with. Only now I was adifferent girl on the outside, a girl who lived in the land of the fat girls. Teased. Shunned. Pitied. Overlooked.
The only guy who still thought I was beautiful was Jett, whose love I wore like a shield against my exile into fat land.
But without Jett by my side, I was just this disgusting blob. I was nothing. Less than nothing.
I pulled out of Wendy’s parking lot and drove. I wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and pull the covers over my head. I wanted to hide forever,
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