I broke my dazed expression and cleared my throat. “Nothing. I mean...uh...just a Diet Coke.”
She raised her eyebrow at me. “You said you wanted a strawberry margarita. Or a Sex On the Beach. Something frozen and sweet.”
“Yeah, uh...shopping wore me out. I’m too exhausted to be any fun drunk tonight.”
Joey side-eyed me as she got up to grab my drink. “Okay. Be right back.”
At least two other girls had seen our exchange—one of my sorority sisters, Ashley, and her friend who was visiting from out of town. Even though it was only two sets of eyes, it felt like they were all on me. Boring into me. Reading my mind, and knowing how completely embarrassed I was to be so huge, when last year I was so hot.
I plastered a smile on my face, making sure it touched my eyes, and looked up. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
I banged into the bathroom, squeezing myself into the first stall. A sob rose in my throat as I tried to tug the stiff new jeans down, and finally I sat down, even though I didn’t really have to pee. I rested my elbows on my knees, raked my fingers back from my forehead over my scalp, and took a deep breath, just like the physical therapy people had taught me to do when I needed a break. Take myself out of the situation. Take a deep breath. Try again.
Yeah, that was fine when you were in the middle of a rehab center when half the people there had it way worse than you, and all the therapists understood. Not when your hot whatever-he-was from almost a year ago waited outside at a table with a bunch of other girls, obviously not interested in you.
I sat up straighter. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave this bar through the bathroom window. There wasn’t one, since it was attached to a damn fitness club. Just the reminder I needed. I had to get it together.
I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth a couple of times until my stomach calmed down. I had to quit that, too, unless I wanted the next person walking in to think I was a crazy person and freak out.
Even if I was. A crazy person.
I pulled up my pants, with a little grunting and stretching, shouldered out of the stall, and stared at the bathroom mirror. Being fat required so many layers. Bra with wide band, tank top, shirt. I pulled and stretched each one back into place, trying to note which movements caused bulging or gapping.
I really should have practiced this back home instead of lazing around in stretchy pants and huge t-shirts. I just had never thought that clothing would turn out to be such an issue. It never had been before. Both in life and in the runway shows I’d done to make some cash and pay the bills, it was as easy as pulling clothes on and going. Half the time, I never even looked in the mirror. That’s how sure I was that I would look good in whatever I wore.
Finally, I felt like my belly and hips were dammed up safely behind my Spanx-slimming camisole, one I’d grabbed off the rack even though Joey had grabbed a side of it in each hand, strained to stretch it, and frowned, warning me it would make me feel squished and miserable. It did, but it also smoothed things. As long as I didn’t move too much.
I turned to the side and stared at myself in the mirror. Instead of a sharply defined torso and legs, I now had a body full of carefully controlled bumps.
Awesome.
That was when the tears started again. Big fat ones, barreling down my cheeks and plopping on the sink like the heavy drops that come moments before a summer thunderstorm.
Only difference was, those storms cleared the air, took the humidity away. I was pretty sure, right here and right now, that these pre-bawl tears would only make things worse. And seeing myself standing there, crying, made my lips twist down into the beginning of the Ugly Cry. Not good.
Just then, the door swung open and Joey stood there, hands on hips. “Cat, you’ve been in here for ten—” Then she saw me ridiculously dabbing at my wet cheeks with the one piece of toilet paper I’d brought out of the stall. “Oh, honey. What? What’s going on?”
“I’m just...fat. I don’t know.”
She reached up to grab my shoulders, which were starting to shake with the sobs rolling up through my body. “No. No. Now stop. You look amazing. You don’t look like you did last year, and everyone knows that. But you look so good, Cat.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did someone say something to you?”
“No,” I said, dabbing at my eyes, trying to staunch my tears like I would blood from an open wound. “But I could tell. Especially Jake.”
Joey’s mouth twisted down and she sighed. “He didn’t feel you up like usual, huh?”
A short laugh tumbled out from my belly. “You noticed that, huh?”
“Yeah, because it was always so gross when he did last year.”
Joey always knew how to make me laugh. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, though. You just got back. Give him some time. I’m sure he’ll be mauling you in dark corners in no time.”
I peered into the mirror and tried to clean up some of the mascara that had dribbled down my face. Then I sighed, and said, “Thanks, Jo.”
“I know this sucks, Cat. And I will be here for you every time. But you’re not gonna be a stick figure again for a long time. Maybe ever.”
“I wasn’t a stick figure!” I protested. Even though I knew she was right, on both counts.
Joey scoffed. “Okay. Grab my head in one hand and my feet in the other, stretch me half a foot, and that’s what you looked like. You were skinny as a twig before, and you’re not anymore. That’s the only reason none of your clothes fit. Everyone knows what happened, and nobody cares. But they’re gonna get kind of annoyed with the whining and the moping if you don’t start feeling comfortable in your own skin.”
It felt kind of like she’d twisted a warm, loving knife in my gut. I knew she was right, but I still wanted the time to feel sorry for myself. But when I looked up in the mirror again and saw my careful makeup destroyed on top of puffy red eyes, I decided I was going to do my best.
Getting comfortable with how I looked was going to be tough, though, with the overwhelming feeling that all I wanted was to get the hell out of my body.
Chapter 3
Slowly, the air cooled off and the humidity left the city air, replaced by clouds of warm exhaust from buses and cars chugging through the streets. I loved to watch the sprawling city just over the bridge, and how the people moving through it changed the feel of the concrete and LED backdrop as they started wearing pea coats and carrying cups of steaming coffee. I used to love taking long walks around Philly, getting lost and discovering new murals, food trucks, and boutiques.
That was when I could walk significant distances without being exhausted and in pain.
For the most part, my classes and occasional physical therapy kept me busy enough to distract myself from a few things. Like the fact that Jake had pretty much been using me as a booty call the entire time I’d known him, and I was letting it happen. Or the fact that I was pretty broke (Mom could only kick in a fraction of my living expenses compared to what I’d earned modeling, and I’d been too stupid to save anything). Or the fact that I was depressed.
Most of the time, I felt okay. But the times when I’d catch myself staring into space, or turning down invites to go to dinner with my sorority sisters for a whole week, or wanting to sob every time I puffed going up the stairs or felt my thighs rub together...those moments were getting more and more frequent. So much so that I felt like I could bring a pillow and blanket and move into those moments to stay.
The last straw, though, came during a philanthropy event that our sorority had pulled together with another house. A simple “charity gets a tenth of the cover and food purchases” deal, to which we’d invited everyone we’d ever met.
That morning, the scale had revealed that I’d put on a couple pounds—the change in the weather had been making the rod in my leg feel funny, and I hadn’t been walking quite as much. I’d also pulled a few all-nighters in the design studio, and snacked my way through them. It was no big deal, thou
gh—my sorority sisters were always bringing over something they thought would be cute on me from their own closets and lending me the clothing for the semester.
For the party, I’d pulled on some leather riding boots with stretchy skinny jeans and a long cashmere wrap sweater that dipped into a deep V in the front. It showed off my boobs and made it look like I actually had a waist. Because most of the girls wore heels and my boots had hardly any, I didn’t even tower over them that noticeably. I felt good.
I’d just started chatting with a sweet girl from the other house, Hannah, whose sleek dark ponytail looked like a freaking waterfall compared to my messy blonde waves. She was a fashion design major too, and we were bonding over what a pain in the ass it was when people thought that all we did was glue-gun shit to pre-existing clothing all day, when her brows furrowed down and she cocked her head. “Hey, if you’re in the program, how is it possible that I didn’t meet you till tonight? Studio time always overlaps.”
“Oh, I was home with my dad in California and then my mom in Ohio, recovering. Horseback riding accident, lots of physical therapy.” My carefully rehearsed rundown of what happened to me rolled off my tongue by now.
“Oh my God, you’re from California?”
“Um...yeah, I—”
“I wonder if you know my friend. I mean, it’s a longshot, but—Nate, come over here.”
A guy with dark messy hair shouldered through the crowd toward us. He wore a dark gray button-down shirt and jeans, and when he stopped a couple feet from me, I really got a look at him. Just the way his shoulders rounded and his eyes flashed at me made my heart race a little bit. Jesus, was he gorgeous. I had just reached out my hand to shake his when Jake walked in.
My stomach twisted, since I’d asked him to come to the event tonight and he said he had to go home for the weekend. Maybe we’d start making out in public again. And maybe actually dating like normal people would follow.
I took a few steps to the door of the bar, smiling, when the girl said, “Oh, you know Jake?”
“I....yeah. Do you?” The way she said his name was so familiar, so excited, and I’d never met this girl in my life.
“Yeah.” Hannah giggled, striding over to him. He met her halfway to me, his eyes darting between the two of us. Then Hannah flung her arms around his neck, stood up on tiptoes, gazed adoringly into his face, and murmured, “Hey, baby. Glad you made it.”
He leaned down and kissed her, pressing his face into her and eliciting a small, delighted noise from her. It made my heart stop and drop into my stomach. Oh, God. Maybe they just started going out. Maybe....
“We’ve been together like a year and a half,” Hannah said. “I can’t believe the two of us never met before, if you know him too.”
Jake spoke to Hannah, but he looked at me. “I didn’t think this fundraiser was with Kappa Delta.”
Oh, great, asshole. Kick me in the gut.
“It wasn’t. We changed it at the last minute, because half the other house had the flu and our philanthropies weren’t that similar anyway.” She giggled again. “What do you care?”
Some of my sisters who knew Jake, and about my involvement with him, were watching. Hannah snuggled up against his side, threading her fingers through his.
“I don’t care,” Jake replied, lowering his mouth to hers. “I only want to be with the hottest girl on campus.”
He broke the kiss and looked around with a satisfied smile. King Jake had conquered his college kingdom, chosen his queen, and made out with her in front of his concubine.
But I was not about to accept that. I smacked him square across the face, hard.
“What the fuck, bitch?” he yelled, clutching his face.
I used the burning hot anger in my chest to push back the tears that threatened. They’d probably come out of my ears in the form of steam. I wished they would. “If you really only want to be with the hottest girl on campus, douchebag, then maybe you shouldn’t have been fucking me on the side a year ago.”
Spit gathered at corners of my mouth, and everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and stared at our little nightmarish triangle. Including that hot guy Hannah had started to introduce me to. Fabulous.
“You can mind your own goddamn business. You’re lucky I’m paying any attention to your fat ass at all.” Jake’s sneer made my stomach twist.
That was it. The tears were coming now whether I liked it or not. I pushed past Jake and Hannah just in time to see her push him in the chest with both hands and screech, “What the fuck, Jake?”
On another day, on another planet, I might have had the balls to stand there and keep berating him, or even to band together with the other poor girl getting screwed over and kick his sorry cocky ass out of the bar. Maybe even make friends with the poor cheated-on girlfriend.
But my embarrassment and my hurt and my humongous body were taking up too much space as it was right now. I pushed out of the crowd and stalked home as fast as I could, trying my best to ignore the pains that shot up my leg like electric shocks but were ten times as painful. I wrenched my key into the old sorority house door with crumbling paint, sobbed as I had to wiggle it exactly right to get the door to open, and collapsed on the couch.
As always, Joey was right behind me. Ten minutes later, she was kneeling next to the couch, stroking my hair and telling me to take deep breaths.
“I’m just in so much pain,” I finally managed. “I mean, I wasn’t doing well before I got back to school, but at least I thought he wanted to see me, you know? From our texts and phone calls...he wanted to be with me. But I guess not even good sex overcomes being a fatass.”
“First, he never just wanted to see you. He wanted a place to put his dick. Second, he doesn’t not want to be with you because you’re fat, he doesn’t want to be with you because he is a dick. Because you’re not fat. And third, from what I heard, the sex was never that good anyway.”
I watched a smile slowly, carefully pull up the corners of her mouth. My head pounded, but I laughed. “What do you mean, ‘what you heard?’”
“Well, you know. You’re a passionate girl. I figure you’d make a little more noise if a guy was really taking care of you.”
A giggle, half hysterical and half relieved, bubbled out of my throat. “Well, you know he was my first, so I didn’t know any different. But you have a good point there. Next time, can you just kick out anyone that doesn’t make me scream and scratch the walls?”
“If our house mom doesn’t first.” She hugged me tight around the neck. “What else are friends for?”
“Um...well...dragging me to a counselor tomorrow? I think I really need to talk to someone.”
She sat back and looked at me, her eyes big and sad. “Yeah. Oh, yeah, babe. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Neither did I, I don’t think, until...I don’t know. A couple days ago. And right now, I can’t stop thinking about how I deserved that. What Jake did to me. Because I’m so fat, and depressed, and not seeing things right, and feeling so weird about everything...I don't even know what I am anymore.” My lip trembled and tears brimmed in my eyes. “I just...I don’t want to feel this way anymore, you know? Everything hurts.”
“Oh sweetie. You know that’s ridiculous, to think you deserved it?”
I nodded.
“Okay, then. Counseling center tomorrow. I didn’t want to go to my nine o’clock anyway.”
The tears finally spilled over into rivers on my cheeks. “Thank you,” I said over and over as she hugged me.
After a few minutes, Joey pulled back. “Now that we have that taken care of, what should we do now? Compare Jake’s dick to various tiny household items?”
I giggled again. “Yeah. Let’s start with some chopsticks. Got the number to the Chinese place?”
Chapter 4
The white laminate high edge of the intake desk at the counseling center curved around a lower one with a secretary sitting beneath it. When we walked up to her, she
kept staring at her computer screen and clicking her mouse every one or two seconds.
“You have an appointment?”
“No, she’s a walk-in,” Joey said, standing on tiptoe to try to get the secretary’s attention.
The woman tore her eyes from her screen and looked up at us over the rims of her shining wire glasses. “We don’t have any appointments today.”
“This is a student alert situation.”
The woman sighed and pulled a brown clipboard off the desk from the other side of her computer. The tiny silver balls of the chain that held the pen there flashed at me as it swung beneath. “Fill this out and I’ll let them know.”
Joey flashed her a tight smile. “Thanks,” she said, in a short snappy tone that implied anything but thanks.
We settled into some chairs in the small waiting area, and Joey handed me the board.
“What is a student alert situation?” I asked while I filled out my name, e-mail address, year, major, and why I wanted to see a counselor. I bit back a giggle when I thought about filling that blank with seriously fucked up. Instead I just filled in feeling down.
Joey looked at me and smiled slightly. She tapped her forehead with her index finger. “Psych student, right? I did a little research project in the office last year. ‘Student alert’ is code for ‘I think she’s gonna kill herself if you don’t see her today.”
I gasped. “Joey! It is not that bad.”
“It’s bad enough that you need to talk to someone today. I don’t even want to think about what you’re gonna look like six weeks from now if you don’t.”
My mouth dropped open. “I...yeah.” I wanted to argue with her but every time I thought about how much energy it took to drag myself out of bed, or smile when I went out with my friends, or thought about Jake’s announcement that he was officially and finally dumping me on my fat ass and all the embarrassment....yeah. I needed to see someone.
We flipped through magazines for a few minutes before one of the office doors cracked open, and a woman in a sweater and jeans with swingy auburn hair stepped out. She held the door for a girl who looked like she’d been crying, but thanked her.
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