by Desiree Day
Chubby Chicks Rule
by
Desiree Day
PUBLISHED BY:
Desiree Day
Chubby Chicks Rule
Copyright 2011 by Desiree Day
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
CHAPTER 1
Jessica Smith stood on the sidewalk gasping, even though it was a cool seventy-one degrees, her cotton blouse clung to her back, adhered to it by a strip of sweat. She had asked her driver to drop her off two blocks away from the school and she had walked the rest of the way. I don’t think that was such a good idea, she thought while struggling to catch her breath. She glanced longingly over her shoulder, her limo was nowhere in sight. “Okay Cinderella suck it up,” she muttered then looked around.
The area swarmed with girls and boys. Her eyes widened as though she had just walked backstage at the MTV Movie Awards and had just seen Justin Bieber, Will Smith, and Chace Crawford. Middleville High School, so different from the all-girls private school she had attended for the last seven years.
She waddled up the stairs to her new high school and side-stepped a group of kids standing in front of the door. They look so old, like they should be in college, she thought while looking at them out of the corner of her eyes. The boys were just as tall as her father and the girls looked like they had just stepped off the cover of Cosmo.
Shuffling past them she felt their gazes on her, then the snickers, there were always snickers; they felt like little darts in her back. Jessica self-consciously tugged at her poncho. The bright pink material had looked chic and sophisticated in the store, but now she felt like an elephant wearing a tent.
“Excuse me!” she heard. “Excuse me! Ex-cuse ME!” The voice became more insistent with each syllable.
Jessica turned and goose bumps the size of marshmallows popped out over her arms. Grinning at her was a Jesse Metcalfe look-a-like. Jessica’s eyes darted to his close cropped chocolaty colored hair, dimples and kissable lips.
He pulled himself away from the group and sauntered over to her. Her eyes widened with awe. He stuck out his hand, Jessica stared at it, not knowing what to do, boys, especially cute boys, never introduced themselves to her. “Hi, I’m Darryl.”
“Hi I’m Jess-i-ca,” she stuttered mesmerized by his bluish green eyes.
“Don’t be nervous,” he answered with a grin. “I’m an ambassador for the school. I’m here to welcome you.”
Jessica nodded. “That’s so nice,” she croaked. She didn’t remember that program being mentioned during orientation, but having a personal escort sounded exciting, especially a cute one. “Are you going to show me around?” she asked shyly.
“Show you around?” Darryl snickered. “I can barely see around you!” he shouted and his group of friends howled with laughter. “You’re so big that it’ll take us half a day to get inside the building and you’re so big that I’ll probably spend all the time trying to squeeze you through the front door.”
Jessica stumbled back her mouth frozen in a horror. “What?”
“You’re fat!” a girl called from the group. “Didn’t you hear him?” All Jessica remembered was that the speaker had blond hair with streaky highlights before she whirled on her heel, raced into the building, pushed her way through groups of students and scurried into the first girls’ restroom she saw.
Jumping into the first empty stall, she pressed her back against the door and the tears that she had been holding, slid silently down her face. High school wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Her body trembled as she cried silently. The only time a sob or hiccup escaped was when she was sure it would be swallowed by the sound of the flushing toilets. She grabbed the hem of her poncho and dabbed at her face.
“Let no man pull you low enough to hate him.” Martin Luther King’s quote rang in her ear. Ever since she was old enough to understand, her father had drummed Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., and John F. Kennedy’s sayings into her. “They’re making it hard,” Jessica mumbled. “Very hard.”
Taking a deep breath she stepped out of the stall and walked in what she could only call a beauty pageant dressing room on steroid. It looked as if every girl in the school had decided to change clothes, layer on makeup, squirt on perfume, and sneak a smoke.
“Darn it, I was in the bathroom for only a couple minutes, but it filled up faster than a Beyonce concert,” she mumbled as she eyed the mob in front of the sinks and sighed. “Excuse me,” she said as she eased her way between people as she made her way to the bank of sinks.
She was washing her hands when she heard, “He’s a butt wipe.”
“What?” She glanced in the mirror and locked eyes with the girl next to her. She had shoulder length dreadlocks, big brown eyes, caramely colored skin and was big all over. Jessica guessed that the girl weighed twenty pounds more than her.
“Darryl, he’s a butt wipe. Can’t stand him or his little crew.” The girl turned off the faucet and grabbed a fistful of paper towels. She handed some to Jessica.
“He’s not very nice,” Jessica admitted, while drying her hands.
The girl narrowed her eyes. “Gurl, where you from? You’re not from my neighborhood, ‘cause if he had said something like that from my part of town, he’d be shot, no questions asked.” Jessica giggled, suddenly feeling a little better. “Good, never let ‘em see you cry.”
Jessica self-consciously dabbed at her eyes. “It’s okay if your girls see you do it. Just not them,” the girl hissed then jutted her chin toward the door. “I’m Samantha. You can call me Sam or Sammie, I’m cool with either one,” she said, finally introducing herself.
“I’m Jessica. I didn’t think high school was going to be like this. Everybody is so much older looking…” she grimaced. Then, “And mean, just so mean. I wonder where Tamia is.”
“Who’s that?” Samantha asked. She had secured her spot in front of the mirror and glared at any girl who dared to look at her as though they wanted her to move. Jessica watched in fascination as she applied purple eye shadow.
“My best friend. We haven’t seen each other all summer,” she gushed.
“Why not?” Samantha glanced at her before turning her attention back to her face, her blush was next.
“She went out of town. I guess…I don’t know…her whole story is so sketchy. Her mother told me she went to visit her grandmother.”
Samantha arched an over tweezed eyebrow at Jessica. “You don’t believe her?”
“Of course I do,” Jessica answered quickly. “But for the whole summer? She couldn’t stand spending more than two days with her grandmother. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought.”
“Maybe,” Samantha shrugged, dismissing the subject. “Remember don’t let Darryl punk you. He’s like a dog, as soon as he smells fear, he’s all over it. But just like a dog, you have to smack him on the nose when he misbehaves.”
“How do you know so much about him?” Jessica asked curiously.
“That butt monkey lives down the street from me and he bullies everybody.”
“Even you?”
Samantha snorted. “What do you think? That butt cloth knows better.” Then, “What are you?” she asked while squinting at Jessica.
Jessica chuckled at that question, she had been hearing it her whole life, normally it irritated her, but Samantha made her feel so comfortable that it didn’t bother her. Her corkscrew brown and blonde kissed hair, full lips, hazel eyes and butterscotchery complexion always made her stand out. “I’m half White and half Black. My mom is B
lack and my father is White.”
“Cool, I love your hair,” Samantha said.
Jessica smiled. She used to hate her head full of a million curls. She always thought she looked like Sideshow Bob from the Simpsons. “At least my hair is in style,” she joked while giving her head a shake. The school bell rang.
“See ya!” Samantha said as she lumbered out of the restroom.
“Bye!” Jessica called, suddenly feeling lonely. “I can’t wait to find Tamia.”
Jessica pushed her way through group after group of giggling girls, who were dressed like they were starring in a Lady Gaga video. Even though it was the first day of school she immediately noticed that nearly all the girls had cliqued. And the boys sniffed after them as though they were the latest PlayStation. The scene mirrored her years in middle school where if you were bigger than a size ten you were considered a pig. “Where’s Tamia?” Jessica wondered as she miserably continued her trek down the corridor to her homeroom.
After walking up a flight of stairs, slicing through group after group of kids, and re-tracing her steps twice, she found her homeroom.
She hesitated at the door. Some students sat by themselves and some of them had carried the party in to the room and they sat in little clusters as though they were at a cocktail party.
I wonder what homeroom Tamia’s in, she thought as she fell into the first empty seat. She flung her pill box size purse on the desk. “This looked so cute in the store,” she mumbled. She snatched up her purse and lowered it onto her lap.
Suddenly she heard a sound that she had heard for the past fourteen years. A cross between a hoarse chicken and a screaming poodle. Tamia! Tamia’s here. Her self-consciousness evaporated as she turned around in her chair and scanned the room.
It took a minute but Jessica found her best friend. She was clustered with a group of girls. Her honey colored skin was radiant. Leggings? A pair of bright red leggings clung to her friend’s legs…and they looked nice. Jessica’s eyes traveled down, Tamia had ankles, dainty little ankles. Her eyes traveled up, belly button? Between the red leggings and an off-white belly baring sweater was Tamia’s belly button. And it was pierced.
Jessica waded across the room; she stopped in front of Tamia. The group of girls instantly stopped talking as though someone had flicked an off switch.
“Jessica? I-I-I,” Tamia stuttered.
“Tamia?”
Her friend nodded and they fell into an awkward hug.
“Tamia? You look awesome,” Jessica said softly, awed by her friend’s appearance. Over the summer her best friend had morphed into a beautiful young lady. Gone were sixty pounds that had weighed her down, gone was the unruly head of curls which was replaced by a veil of sleek brown hair. Her usually makeup less face was tastefully made up. She was small and lithe. “What happened?” She asked stunned by her best friend’s new look. “And why didn’t you call me all summer? Every time I called your house, all you mother would tell me was that you were at your grandmother’s.”
Tamia darted a look at her new friends, then pulled Jessica to the side. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. My parents sent me to a fat camp during the summer,” she hissed. “And they didn’t allow us to call anybody other than our family.” Tamia twirled around. “So how do I look?”
“You look so-so-so,” Jessica faltered for words.
“Hot?” Tamia crowed.
“Yeah.”
“Come on T, Brittany’s gonna tell us about her summer,” someone called across the room.
T? Jessica stared at her friend as though she was a stranger.
Tamia glanced over at her new friends. “I got to go Jessica. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jessica’s mouth dropped. I’ll talk to you later? She recovered fast enough to ask her friend, “So what lunch period are you in?”
“I ummm don’t know.”
“Tamia!”
Jessica looked to see a very pretty Barbie type girl with blonde streaked hair angrily motioning to Tamia.
“I really gotta go! I’ll see you later.” Tamia turned to go then she changed her mind. “Hit me up on my celly when you get a minute.” She rattled off a number and before Jessica could write it down Tamia had dashed off across the room, where she encroached herself in her group of new friends, their heads bended and giggling together.
“Oh boy.” Jessica stumbled back to her seat. Occasionally she darted a look over her shoulder at her friend and she finally understood the saying: Looking like you just lost you best friend. She was sure that her loss showed.
The rest of the homeroom period was spent with her eyes glued to her schedule and studying it as though it was a Cheesecake Factory menu. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, Jessica popped out of her seat and hurried out the door, back into the swarm of students. Jessica looked around and decided that the student population had doubled since homeroom.
Before she had time to think about that, she came to her first period class. She glanced down at her schedule then peeked inside the classroom. Physical Spirituality. She stiffened in horror. This isn’t what I thought it would be. The syllabus described the class as finding the spiritual connection between food and yourself, not a hangout for fatties.
This is more like a fat kids club, she thought as she waddled into the classroom and squeezed behind her desk. All around her were boys and girls who were poster kids for what happens when your Twinkie addiction gets out of control.
As soon as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class, the teacher sauntered in. Jessica immediately hated her perky smile, perky breasts and long legs. She guessed that she was no bigger than a size two.
“My name is Ms. McKenzie. And I’m going to be your food coach for the year. You’re here because you have a problem with food and I’m here to help you. By the time this class ends you will know how much a chicken breast—” The room erupted in giggles and whistles at the word breast. “You will know how much a chicken breast weighs, be able to eyeball the correct portion of any food item and can spout off the caloric count of any food as though it was a rap song.
And one talent that I have is having a keen nose. I can sniff anybody’s mouth to learn what they’d eaten that day. With that being said. Everybody line up. I want to smell your breath.”
Horrified gasps filled the room. They darted glances at each other. Nobody volunteered first.
“If I don’t get any volunteers, I’m going to call you up by alphabetical order,” she warned. Even with the threat, every one sat glued to their seat. She glared at them before snatching up the class roster.
Jessica sighed. At least my last name is Smith. There’ll be a lot more people humiliated before me. Relieved, she settled into her seat.
Ms. McKenzie glanced at the list then: “Jessica Smith.”
Jessica shot up in her seat. “That’s not alphabetical order,” she sputtered.
“I decided to do it in reverse order,” Ms. McKenzie said smugly.
“You can’t!” Jessica wailed as she slid her hands under her thighs and clutched the edge of her chair.
“I can and I will. Come up here.” Jessica remained rooted to her seat. “Now!” she ordered. Jessica popped out her seat and scurried up to the front of the class.
“Open your mouth.”
“Open my mouth?”
“Open your mouth and exhale.”
Jessica glanced over at her classmates. Transfixed, they watched the scene while wearing looks of horror and excitement. She opened her mouth an inch and blew.
“Wider and harder!” Ms. McKenzie barked.
Jessica’s mouth popped open and she breathed out so hard that she thought she blew out a lung.
Ms. McKenzie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Scrambled eggs, orange juice, toast, Doritos, bacon and…a jelly donut.” Jessica felt her face burn. “Am I right?” Jessica nodded. “Good. Go sit down!” Ms. McKenzie studied the class roster. “And just for the record, from now on, I’ll be doing ran
dom breath checks. And those who fail will receive an F. The breath checks are going to be worth twenty percent of your grade. Next!”
Student after student waddled up to the front of the room and was humiliated worst than Lindsay Lohan at a sobriety checkpoint.
“This is just so random,” someone muttered. Peeking over her shoulder Jessica caught the eyes of the Black girl from the bathroom. Jessica wracked her brain for her name, Samantha, Sam or Sammie. Jessica waved at her.
“Yeah,” chimed, an Asian girl who was one double cheeseburger away from bursting out of her corduroys.
Because of Ms. McKenzie’s sensitive nose, she learned that Samantha had hash browns, scrambled eggs, Tootsie Rolls and pancakes for breakfast and the Asian girl had French toast and coffee.
“Now I want everyone to count off to four. Once you get to four. I want the person after you to start over at one. Start!” They quickly complied. “I want all the ones in that corner. Twos should go in the back. Threes should go in the front corner and all the fours should stay in this area!” she shrieked while her finger worked at warp speed. They all stared at her. “Group now!” Everyone scrambled.
Jessica found herself grouped with Samantha, the Asian girl and a chunky Black boy.
Jessica smiled tentatively at her group, they stared at her, as if expecting her to take over.
“So scrambled eggs, Doritos and bacon, huh?” the guy joked. He was tall, about six one and the color of milk chocolate.
Jessica blinked and realized that he was talking to her. “Yeah, that’s me,” she answered shyly. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, then: “Sausage McMuffin with Egg,” she blurted.
The boy bobbed his head up and down. “Hey dude, good memory. I’m Matt.”
Jessica looked down at her shoes, boys never talked to her, except for that jerk Darryl.
“Look at these people. These are going to be your shadows for the rest of the year. They’re going to know when you eat, what and how much you’ve eaten and when you exercised. You’re either going to love them or hate them,” Ms. McKenzie said with a smirk.
