“I know how grotesque it must be to see me partially naked mom, but try having a full frontal shot every time you step into the shower.” I was doing my laundry when my mom made a noise that stopped me abruptly. This noise came from a woman weighing in at a whopping one nineteen at a height of five feet eight inches. This noise made me feel like a large pustule on someone’s face before picture day. This noise killed my morale day after day. “Ugh, would it hurt you to lose more than the three pounds that you shit back out every time you eat something,” she scoffed. Talk about a self-esteem killer. “Sorry for living mom, seriously,” I shot back at her. Anyway, the reason why I was half-naked was because my laundry wasn’t dry. I was going to get a clean shirt and bra when Sherry “ugh-ed” me. I will admit that I am no Tyra Banks, but when mom put me down like that, it made me want to go and eat more just to piss her off. “I’m going outside to smoke a cigarette,” she called, “Don’t eat the fridge while I’m out, fat ass.” I can’t seem to recall when she started making remarks like that but we had our own ways of dealing with stupid situations that were revolving around the both of us. Sadly, our “ways” collided. She disappeared out the door, and peace overcame my pudgy body. I stood in the kitchen and stared at the closed door. I had always been a failure in her eyes, but what was I supposed to do? I gave up trying to please her constant nagging, but it was a full time job and I only had willpower for a part time effort. Moments passed in front of the dryer. I pulled an array of clothing from the machine and folded each article very delicate and meticulously. The warm “mountain-magic fresh” scent seeped from each off the cotton coverings. My elbow hit a stack of shirts that sent them toppling to the bleached white floor. I happened to notice the tag on my favorite tee. It read XL. XL? A lot of people wear extra large right? No big deal? Not for me. It’s a big deal because I’m female, seventeen, dark-haired, at five-seven, and two hundred and twelve pounds. I am everything that Vogue, Seventeen, and Maxim tell the female sex not to be. I always tried to shut out her comments, but I couldn’t help thinking that she was right about my fat ass. I’m not a lazy person, and I have no clue why I am fat, but from an outsider’s perspective, her harsh words are uncalled for. My dad, Rick, left when I was ten. He went out on us for a skinny, bleached blonde tramp named Layla. Mom didn’t sleep or eat. She was also out of work for six months and took up drinking. I hadn’t figured out if she was a danger to herself on her binge excursions, but she had occasionally taken a stab at me. I mean that in a literal sense. Five stitches across my right shoulder from a night when she couldn’t even remember her own name. Don’t pity me; I make the best out of what I have left. I have a great group of friends and we are all fat, all except for Devon. Devon is beautiful inside and out. She is an athlete, peer-worker at school, and still has time to spend on us losers. There is also Marcy, Jenna and Jerry. Jerry is gay, no I take that back, Jerry is a flaming homosexual. Marcy is a stoner, that’s why she’s fat. We are at McDonald’s or Taco Bell when she gets high from a munchies attack. Mom likes making fun of Marcy when she comes over. Jenna is the quiet one. She is fat because her family is fat. Her parents are Santa and Mrs. Clause, beard and gray hair included. Jenna is very pretty in the face, although. I admire her dedication to keeping her mouth shut. People have nothing to say about her except that she is fat, and that is something that is a little challenging to hide. A long time ago it was acceptable to wear a size fourteen-sixteen. Fat people are either targets, or appear invisible now. I would rather be invisible personally; attention isn’t really my cup of tea. Strangely I can’t avoid the attention because I am friends with three other fat people who are constantly seen together. School is always a trip, West Central High School as a whole, has a very creative mind. Everyone in school can think of a new fat joke everyday for their entire high school career. Today’s was “Hey Jenna, you’re so fat you were baptized at sea world.” Jenna pushed her tray away from her and set her fork down beside it. Her eyes happened to catch mine and I nodded to her. We had, together, made up our own language using our eyes so Jenna could be spared the embarrassment of saying a single word that could be used against her. Fat humiliation is different then any other form of humiliation because even if Jenna had a great comeback, she could still be shot down by some lame comment from the star quarterback or even the class clown. If someone is fat, they aren’t just fat they are ugly and stupid too. I’m allowed to say these things because I’m fat. I cocked my head toward the hallway leading out of the cafeteria where Jenna had received the compliment. Together we got up and left Marcy, Devon, and Jerry at our lonely corner table. I walked in front of her to open the door for her and as she passed, I noticed tear escape her eye. We walked down the halls with nothing to say, because in our years of friendship, it had all been said. She looked like she had more on her mind than just the joke. “What’s on your mind, Jen,” I spoke quietly. She sighed and slid her hands into her pockets. “I want out of here Dex,” She began. “You know what I want,” I questioned,” I want you to be happy.” The school smelled like the usual musty-mop-chewing-gum-sweaty-gym-clothes crap hole. We walked slowly to let any rant left in the both of us out before the lunch hour was over. “Do you want to so something after school,” I asked. “Mom says I have to go to the gym with her and dad after school,” she said sadly. “That’s okay, how about after,” I suggested. She shrugged and veered off into a restroom. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, but can I have some alone time, I think I’m going to skip next period,” she explained. “Alright, but I’m coming back after next period to check on you, and don’t tell me no because I’ll do it anyway,” I announced. “That’s fine,” she sighed. I walked back to the cafeteria and told the crew what happened and we sat in silence for the rest of lunch. “I’m really worried about Jen these days,” Devon admitted to me after we walked out of the cafeteria. “Nah, she’ll be alright, she and I have been through a lot together and I don’t think she has the will power to quit right now,” I told her. “I just think it would be a good idea to keep an eye on her, at least for a little while,” she continued. “I’m going to check on her after next period. I told her I would.” Devon and I walked down another smelly hall and went to classes. I dropped her off at French and she kissed me on the cheek before she went. I rubbed my cheek like a little virgin and crowded the hallway, just standing there. Now, I’m not a lesbian, but I have to finish explaining Devon. She is the hottest mortal being to grace the Earth since Marilyn Monroe; who by the way, would be considered overweight in our generation. Anyway, Devon makes me feel like a regular person. She is everything I wish I could find in a guy. She sticks up for me when other chicks in the locker room happen to notice my fat popping out in every direction. She dresses like a prom queen but watches Bevis and Butthead and smokes pot with us. She is everything I wished I were, and more than I could ever be. I can’t really tell if I’m in love with her, or if I want to be her. I spent a large percentage of my junior year of high school math writing notes to Jerry, since he was the only one of my friends in that class with me. Jerry is fat too. He is fatter than me but skinnier than Jenna. If I could guess Jerry’s weight, I think he would be about a two sixty. Jerry has a story that could have been on the five o’clock news. When he was four his mother would lock him in his room for days at a time without food or water. He told me that he would clear all the toys out of his toy chest and use the chest as a toilet. That lasted until he was ten when his father finally antied-up and got a divorce. When they left, Jerry said that is when he started getting fat. I think that his mother got to him mentally and messed up his trust in women and love for food at the same time. He always has a French fry or a Twinkie handy. For a gay man he isn’t any good at choosing a wardrobe that covers his cellulite. He said he would diet but he is too stressed out all the time and stress makes him feel the need to eat. Maybe he wouldn’t be stressed if he paid attention in math. We sat for an excruciating fifty four minutes passing a note back and forth about Jenna. He initiated the note, also worried to the max about how quiet she has been lately. “She’s always quiet,” I protested. It was a little odd that I hadn’t picked up on just how silent she was being as fast as everyone else, and she is my best friend. Jerry and I went to the girl’s bathroom after class to do our check. To my surprise, I found ten empty stalls, five leaky faucets, and two cracked mirrors. No Jenna. “Maybe she’s in the art room,” Jerry suggested. He and I went on a wild chase through the entire school, looking for Ms. M.I.A. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Sleep forever. Eternity. Gone. Police cars and ambulances surrounded the school parking lot, along with flashing cameras, orders being yelled, and students milling around spouting off an “oh my god” every now and then. I stood still. We had what we needed, or so I thought. Jenna told me things that even her own parents never knew. I thought I could trust her and she could trust me. She broke our promise and I’m pissed at her for it. A police officer talked to me shortly after I got home from school and told me, in his opinion, what had happened. Apparently, she had left the bathroom stall and went outside to her car, locked herself in with a hose attached to the exhaust pipe. I had received two revelations from what the officer had told me. First, she planned her suicide. And secondly, she had this on her mind for a while, and I mean a long while. The school took the next day off, in remembrance. When I found out about this, I was once again angered because not one damn person loved and cared for her as much and Devon, Jerry, Marcy and me. I know that every single kid in school would sleep in, eat an exceptionally small bowl of cereal, play video games, watch TV and I guarantee that Jenna will not cross their mind once, unless it was to remember that one really good fat joke he or she relayed to her. I walked up to the school like a weak animal. I really didn’t know what I was doing. I knew the staff would still be around but technically there was no school. My first journey was to the art room. Mrs. Fest teaches all the art classes, and she was Jenna’s favorite teacher. I have reason to believe that Jenna and Mrs. Fest are somehow connected because they are both fat. After that, I walked down the hall to the bathroom where I saw her last. My clammy hands squeaked against the stall doors as I passed. I wondered which faucet and which stall she had touched last. I also wondered how long she was there after I left her. I am an idiot. It’s all my fault and I should have stayed with her. We could have ditched class and gone to get ice cream or just gone for a walk. I collapsed onto the floor. My head was spinning and my breath got shorter. It’s my fault. All my fault. Tears rolled violently down my cheeks. I normally try to avoid being home as long as mom isn’t there. She is just like me when she slams her door and doesn’t come out of her room for hours at a time. I had been to upset to want to be around her. Even though mom wasn’t home I still clamored to the lair to be in my own space. I’m not into a dirty room; sadly I think I’m a little too clean. My closet is color-coordinated and not one piece of clutter in sight. I make my bed every morning and do my laundry three times a week, including bed sheets and blankets. My philosophy is that if your life is unorganized, that doesn’t mean your room and home have to be. Jenna and I kept a time capsule from the third grade. I didn’t realize it until I made my quest to find something to do. I cleaned what was left out of my closet. It should have been clean in the first place, but when people hide what they have, that is good enough for everyone else. Basically if you can’t see it, it’s not there. I know that makes me sound like I have no faith in anything, but it’s true. About this time capsule, we put pictures, letters, cards, little toys, or just any memory we salvaged. The pictures are always of interest to me first. We were smiling in them, we were carefree, and we were skinny. I couldn’t help thinking how much I wished I were Jenna right now. I’ll bet she has it made. | 
