The Hottie and the Fatty

by Segunda L.

  "Ms. Santos said you had to submit the project earlier than the rest of the class." Trix was the one who delivered the news. "Preferably two days from now."

  I stopped sipping my cappuccino and asked, "What?"

  "You heard me." She was about to leave.

  "Wait," I stopped her, "That’s unfair. Why would she do that?"

  "Because in her twelve years of service, this was the first time some students caused trouble for her during the field trip. It’s not that big of a punishment." She said and rolled her eyes as she took in my reaction as if I was just told to clean the bathroom with a toothbrush. "If it makes you feel any better, Sam has to do it too."

  The scowl quickly disappeared on my face as I realized what I had to do. I saw TJ listen to our discussion as soon as Samara was involved. "I can't wait to start that project." I said and flashed a smile at TJ.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Jared

  "Good morning, good morning, good morning." I greeted Samara with an air of chirpiness after knocking three times on her door and not getting an answer. It was five in the morning. Too early to be crashing someone's room. I kind of understood the murderous look she was giving me.

  "What the hell are you doing in my room?" Eyes wide, hair sticking out, pink pajama-all in one package. She was sitting up in her bed, clearly displeased by the sight of me in her room.

  It was the first time I saw her room. A combination of light blue and purple painted the wall. Her bed was purple too including her pillows. There was a small flower pot on her table. I was guessing it was fake, since I had never seen a light blue cactus.

  "Time to do some jogging, Samara." I grinned at her then walked towards one of her bean bags and plopped down on it. And like I thought, I found it very comfortable.

  "What are you talking about?" Her eyebrows were pressed together.

  "Would you stop shouting? You'll wake up your neighbors." She was too hyper early in the morning. "Anyway, get changed. We'll be burning some calories." The bean bag was really soft that I was tempted to do a childish thing. I bounced on it. I was about to do it again when a flying pillow hit me on the face. It caught me so unexpectedly that I staggered a bit.

  "What was that for?" It didn't really hurt but I didn't enjoy getting hit in the face.

  "Checking if this is a nightmare." She deadpanned.

  "You're doing it wrong." I picked up the pillow. "You're supposed to hit yourself." I threw the pillow back at her with the same force that she hit me with. Bull's eye.

  She blinked once. Then twice. "Get the hell out of my room, Jared!" She picked up another pillow and threw it at me like a mad woman. This time, I dodged with ease.

  "Hey, I will, I will, okay?" I answered as she prepared to grab the cactus beside her table. "Put that down." I warned.

  She heard none of it. Using the pillow as a shield, the cactus bounced off and I survived unscathed. "Jesus, woman. Calm the fuck down." I slowly backed away, heading for the door.

  "Get out!" She shrieked.

  Before I could totally escape from her room, I risked one glance and I think I saw a devil, wide eyed, hairs sticking out, pajama wearing, sitting up on a purple bed.

  ~*~*~

  "How did it go?" Thomas was in the kitchen, reading a newspaper and looking as serene as a monk on one of his meditation hours.

  "She didn't take it very well." I admitted as I entered their kitchen. One of their maids offered me a cup of coffee but I declined.

  "I did tell you my daughter is not a morning person." Thomas looked up from his newspaper and faced me.

  "Not a morning person was kind of an understatement." I struggled not to show any hint of sarcasm on my voice.

  Thomas sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Well, mornings and exercise are two of the things that Sam hates."

  "Yeah, I kind of figured that one out." I said, leaning my back on their sink.

  "I hope you don't give up on her." Thomas readjusted his glasses. I picked up that he tended to do that when he was worried about something.

  Last night, when everyone was busy doing their own thing, Thomas cornered me and we had somewhat of a man-to-man talk. He thanked me again for what I did for his daughter. I definitely scored myself some brownie points. What I didn't understand was Thomas dislike for TJ. He said something about TJ being a trouble maker. Thomas wanted to know stuffs about Miss Santos. While eating dinner, they had an argument about politics, Thomas was a democrat while Ms. Santos was a republican. Things got so heated up that Ms. Santos was infuriated and somehow right after that, she decided to move our deadline to an earlier date. Coincidence?

  Thomas asked me to help out his daughter with the project. Even he knew that he was to be blamed for Ms. Santos sudden change of mind. Which was great since I was just about to tell him that I was willing to help Samara with the project. That was the reason why I was in their house right now, and I might have suggested that I jog with Samara until she finally makes it a habit. I mentioned to Thomas the state of Samara's health. She was too much of a wimp, easily gets tired and sick. Thomas immediately gave me his approval.

  "Maybe I should talk to her first." Thomas suggested before sipping his coffee.

  "That would be a good idea." I had no intention of going back inside that room. There was a pajama wearing devil inside it.

  ~*~*~

  It was a good thing I came here early. Samara took forever to prepare. I checked my watch. Five thirty in the morning. Still plenty of time to go on a jog. Although she was now up and awake, I was not enjoying the crazy stares she was giving me. We were still in their house, she just entered the kitchen and I could feel the killing desire radiating from her. I swear I could almost smell it in the air.

  "Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" I teased.

  She scowled even more while she tied her hair into a ponytail.

  "Say goodbye to your calories, don't worry, you won't miss them." I winked at her.

  She ignored me and raised her foot on a chair. I watched as she fixed her shoelaces. When she was done with it, she said, "Let's go so I can get back to sleep." She didn’t bother trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

  She kicked off to a good start and I jogged after her. Sometimes she would lag behind and I’d have to slow my pace, other times I had to stop completely to let her catch up. This went on for ten minutes. Samara was silent. The kind of silence which was ironically the loudest to me. I would rather have a screaming Samara than a not talking Samara.

  "We will be doing this almost every day. That means you will be seeing more of me. Aren't you excited?"

  "Piss off, Jared." She jogged ahead of me.

  I caught up to her pace. "Wow, so you're really not a morning person?"

  She looked straight ahead. Her cheeks bounced with each step she took.

  "Wait." I stopped jogging and grabbed her arm.

  Roughly, she brushed off my arm as if she touched a hot water then left me behind.

  "Oi, I said wait!"

  "Catch up!"

  I quickened my pace to catch up to her. "Will you stop for a bit?"

  "What?" She shrieked, exasperated. "You're tired already?"

  "Of course not." "I scoffed."I just noticed something."

  "What?" She finally stopped jogging.

  "Don't move." I said and pinched her cheeks. "Oh my god, it's so fluffy." I kept pinching her cheeks, it was so soft, like touching cotton candy.

  "Get off me, you creep." She kicked my leg and I had to let go.

  "Ow." Wincing in pain, I jogged after her while limping a little. "Damn it, Samara. Stop being so violent in the morning."

  She looked behind and screamed. "Then stop being so weird in the morning."

  "You didn't have to kick me." It was hard to talk and jog at the same time. I was a little out of breath.

  "What is this anyway? Why are you here?"

  "Didn't your dad tell you?"

  "He did but―."

  "Well, that's just it. I'm h
ere out of the kindness of my heart."

  She snorted. "Of course you are." Her voice was mocking. "You should be a saint."

  Ignoring her mockery, I responded, "Saint Jared the Virgin." I paused as if deep in thought, "It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes at the word "virgin".

  "Oh come on now, Samara. You know it suits me."

  "For sure." She agreed almost instantly. Then she turned to a corner and I followed suit. Samara knew her neighborhood well, we were in a park and I was guessing she intentionally went here so she could sit down.

  The park was not too crowded for now, no noisy kids running around. Just a few elderly and adults exercising and enjoying the crispy morning air. Samara immediately searched for a bench and literally laid down on it. Unfortunately, the bench was too small for her. Changing her position, she twisted her body to the side without a care in the world how she looked like or what everyone else would think. People were starting to give her weird stares, some were already snickering.

  Normally, by this time, I would have pretended not to know that person and deny all associations if asked. But that would obviously not be helpful in my part if I did that right now. Hiding my embarrassment, I immediately walked towards her. Half whispering, I said, "Samara, what the hell are you doing? That's not a bed and you're not a hobo." I tried pulling her hand but she didn't budge.

  "Oi, Samara, you're not in your bedroom yet." A little louder this time, I reminded her.

  "I don't care! I'm tired!"

  A couple passed by, the guy was laughing at our situation while the girl bit her lip to stifle her giggles and slightly punched the guy for his loud reaction. Shaking my head, I sighed deeply and tried to come up with ways to make Samara get off that god damned bench. "Samara, wanna play on the swing set?"

  "No."

  I was going to pretend she did not just turn me down. I asked again, "Let's play on the swing set." It came out more of a command than a question. She replied with a fake snoring sound. And it was really loud. You could mistake her for a guy. Very unlady-like. Running my hand over my brown hair out of frustration, I began to explain. "Okay, you made your point. You don't like waking up early and exercise, but you should start thinking about your health." She stopped the annoying snoring sounds but still remained sprawled on the bench. "I didn't get this fit just by doing nothing, I had to work hard too." She was silent, I didn't know whether she was already asleep or was still listening to me. "It's not easy, I know. Especially during the first few days. Believe me, I've been through the same thing. I was quite lanky before I got into sports, my mom hired a trainer for me. He gave me strict diets and worked me like a horse, I didn't like it but my mom had her ways to make me do as she said."

  It was the reason why Samara's health concerned me so much. If mom had not done anything about it, I'd still be the sickly Jared. Samara needed someone to push her. Thomas and TJ weren't suited for the job because they doted on her.

  With a forlorn expression, she sat up. Her eyebrows were crunched together as she looked at her shoes and avoided my gaze. She was about to say something then hesitated. Finally, she swallowed and opened her mouth to talk. "I never got to thank you for helping me out when I got sick during the trip. And now you're helping me out again."

  Sighing, she slowly raised her head and shifted her eyes to look at mine. Those brown irises were even more beautiful when hit by the sun's light. "Yeah, I know my being overweight is going to create complications if I don't do something about it." She bit her lip then continued, "I'm sorry for all the trouble I gave you. I wasn't sure what your motives were so I had my guard up all this time." She stiffened. "You can't entirely blame me for that, you weren't exactly a nice person when we first talked." She said it with a challenging tone that I was forced to say something back.

  "Look, I know that already. And I'm doing my best to―."

  She didn't let me finish. "But thank you. For everything. I can see that you're really trying hard."And for the first time since I met her...

  Samara smiled at me. Just for me.

  ~*~*~

  I could count on my fingers the number of times I had been truly happy.

  One of it was when my dad brought home a white, pudgy pug. It was my first pet. Mom reminded me that I had to take full responsibility for it, she said that pets were good practice for displaying dominance. I didn't get what she meant by then, I was only four.

  Another time was when my mom and dad first came to watch my basketball match. I knew they had a rocky relationship so for them to come together that day, there was a funny feeling in my stomach and a warm sensation on my chest.

  When Samara smiled at me, it was totally unexpected and I had to admit, it disarmed me. It was definitely going to be included in one of the happiest moments of my life.

  Wow.

  Did I just think of all those cheesy stuff? I was a man! I shouldn't be cheesy. But dammit, I couldn't help the joy from swelling within me when her lips twitched up into a smile. I wanted to engrave the image, frame it and keep it inside my head.

  "Uhm," I choked, it was my turn to say something but my brain froze, "does that mean you're going to cooperate with me now?"

  Samara stood up from the bench and started stretching, "Yeah, might as well do this right." This sudden change of heart would surely make things easier for me. Thank God. Enthusiasm was radiating from her as she used the bench for support and grasped the top of her left foot with her right hand. All the while, she was puffing her cheeks.

  "That's the spirit." I fist pumped to cheer her on. But before anything else, I tilted my head and asked her again with a lopsided grin, "You sure you don't wanna play in the swing set before doing this?"

  Abruptly stopping what she was doing, she chuckled and said, "Nah, I'll pass."

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jared

  "How many more rounds?" Samara asked as I sprinted beside her.

  "Just one more, we can't over-do it on the first day."

  She nodded and said, "Okay."

  True to her words, Samara had been cooperating with me, and things were cakewalk so far. If she kept going like this, then no doubt the rest of the months to come will be smoother. I whipped my head to her side, she was focusing on the road, inhaling and exhaling all the while. But this time, she had the proper technique of breathing mastered, thanks to me of course, I taught her how to do it.

  We were both quiet, we hadn’t said much since we left the park except for curt questions about how long we should keep running. Funny how things quickly changed for me, for the both us. I was no longer uncomfortable with the silence, I was at home with it. Unlike in the past, where I'd do ridiculous things just to keep her talking, I finally resigned to the silence that enveloped us.

  "So when did it happen?"

  I was taken aback by the sudden question. "When did what happen?" I asked, curious what she was about to say.

  "You know... that..." She prodded on.

  "That?"

  "When your mom put you into some extensive training."

  Oh, she meant that. I decided to tell her about my "dark years" (as I called it), the time when I was just a scrawny little boy. Only the people who had seen me grew up knew about it. After all, who liked talking about their embarrassing childhood? But if it would help her, then why the hell not? Maybe it would work as a motivation for her.

  "I was fourteen. I hit puberty at that age, I was tall but I was all bones. Plus, I had braces and shit. And my hair was a Justine Bieber wannabee."

  "Ohh." I caught the glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "You should show me some of your childhood pics."

  "What? No way."

  "Why not? Are you shy about it?"

  I almost tripped on my own foot but I quickly recovered. “Of course, not.”

  Samara guffawed. "Right, of course."

  "Stop laughing." I scolded her but it only made her laugh harder. Then I dropped my voice to
a few octaves. "Could you uhmm, not tell anyone about what I just told you..." I cleared my throat, "not that I'm shy about it or anything..."

  "Hmm," she put her thumb under her chin, "I'll think about it." Then she trodded off ahead of me.

  "Oi, Samara, wait." She couldn't be serious. No one should know about my "dark years", everyone in school was convinced I was born a hunk or something like that. "You're not really gonna tell anyone, right?"

  She just shrugged and after a minute of seeming as if she was putting two and two together, she said, "That must explain why you're so vain now. But I guess it's okay since you did work hard for it."

  "Damn right, I thought that trainer was gonna kill me with the hell he put me through."

  She laughed again and I was starting to like the sound of it more and more. By this time, we were already finished with the last round and their house was only a few feet away.

  There was a rumbling sound and for a minute there, I thought it was my stomach begging for food. But it was coming from Samara's side and the way she snapped her head to another direction just proved that she was the source of it.

  "Sorry." She blushed and mumbled, "I wonder what's for breakfast."

  "Oats and fruits." I answered.

  Her mouth hanged open in disgust.

  “I told your chef to prepare it for you. And I talked to your dad about it so don't even think about going to his side."

  "But I hate oats." Her outburst was quick. "I was looking forward to eating bacon today."

  Bacon must have been really on her mind because I could see the disappointment on her eyes, and she was nibbling her lip as if she was about to cry. No wonder the chef earlier was dumbfounded when I told him to stop giving her those unhealthy foods. In a way, Samara was spoiled.

  "Don't be such a baby about it, Samara. Remember what we talked about earlier? Well, this is just the beginning of your healthy lifestyle." I was actually kind of feeling bad for it, but bacon was a big no no for people who were on a diet.