LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

at home, lady, but I somehow manage to bite my tongue, mostly out of grudging respect for her, knowing that it wasn’t Miss Jeannie’s fault that I’ve hated every single thing about myself from the second I opened my eyes this morning. Plus, I wasn’t about to add to the fat-ism in our culture.

      “Posture, dear, a straighter spine gives a thinner line.” (And there’s the hat trick!)

      I grit my teeth and smile, my eyes shooting daggers into her soft, folded neck.

      “You going to join the Mathletes, sweetie?”

      Really? Really?

      And that was the best part of the school day.

      The worst was Audrey. More precisely, my invisibility to her. Which. How could you miss me, right?

      Even though I sat right next to her in Honors English (filled with relief that, yay! she’s still here) and made a point of saying a super-welcoming hello to her in the second floor girls’ bathroom, and then again as I cruised by her table at lunch giving Can I join you? energy to her and Em, who also didn’t even look up at me. They were both absorbed in the usual post-summer catch-up, feverishly talking over each other, and it was abundantly clear that I had no place joining that conversation, nor even a place at the table, at least not by their thinking.

      They weren’t cruel or anything. They didn’t make snide remarks or even roll their eyes. They just ignored me. I was a plastic straw wrapper, a swiveling office chair turned into a corner, dirty popcorn under a theater seat. I was the detritus of peripheral vision. I didn’t register. Which was a whole new kind of horrible. Also, possibly, now that I’m reflecting on it, worse than hearing pig noises when you walk past.

      I thought Audrey was different. The kind of person who would never write somebody off because of her size or looks or whatever. The kind of person who was tuned into everyone and everything, who celebrated difference. I mean, she had a crush on a girl, Drew! She slept with a black boy, Oryon! How bigoted could she be? But Drew was pretty and part of her clique, and Oryon was confident and good-looking, even if he was a little nerdy. He had swag, and Kim, by any measure, taken in any universe, does not.

      Crap, never mind Audrey. If I’m honest, I’m not the person I thought I was either. Because I’m more than happy to take part in shunning myself.

      I can tell you RIGHT NOW who I’m NOT going to pick as my Mono after graduation. Wanna guess? Kimberly Cruz. Yes, even though I’ve been her less than twenty-four hours, I know deep in my “big” bones that this is not the life I intend to choose for myself. Why would I? The world is cruel enough. I’m going to pick a Mono that basically turns me into a walking Kick me! sign for all eternity? A short, minority female who struggles with her weight? Oh yeah, sign me up. Why not give me a stutter and a limp while you’re at it?

      Not that there’s anything wrong with being “of size.” Of course not. But I mean, my breasts are ginormous. Heavy. In the freaking way. And, after a few hours in Mom’s joke of a bra, painful. Like two sacks of flour stitched to my pectoral skin. Talk about too much of a good thing. There is no way I’m surviving 364 more days of bearing the weight and weirdness of these things. I can’t believe millions of ladies spend hard-earned coin to get surgery to make their boobs as big as these. Willingly. Why? So dudes will look at you? Here’s a tip ladies: dudes look anyway. Been on both sides of the mammary lens, and I can vouch for that essential truth.

      Dang, my spine is killing me . . .

      What else? Okay, back to this morning. Oryon’s boxers were practically cutting off my circulation the moment I came to. I had to sprint into the bathroom to tear them off me, but on the way I guess I lost my balance (preview of coming humiliations) and smashed into the doorframe, jamming my middle finger knuckle, which popped loudly and is now purple and swollen. So everywhere I went today, I was subtly giving people the finger (preview of coming worldview?) because I couldn’t fully bend it down into a relaxed position.

      Right after the finger pop, Mom and Dad raced into my bedroom, Mom trilling, “Let’s see you!” I could hear Snoopy’s jingling collar in all the hysteria and crazy energy going on around him.

      “No!” I screamed through the bathroom door.

      “Okay, in a minute then.”

      “Go away!”

      “Kimberly Cruz. Sixteen years old—ooh, that’s right! You can get your driver’s license this year!” Mom read through the door from the Changers Council packet.

      “Kim Cruz?” I whined, looking at her, at myself, in the mirror.

      “Come on,” Dad said agitatedly, “I’ve got to get out of here, and I want to meet this new V.”

      “I’ll just see you after school,” I tried.

      “Well, I can tell you’re a girl,” he said. “So, that’s—”

      I burst through the bathroom door with a bath towel wrapped under my arms, covering most of my body.

      “Whoa, hello there,” Dad said, masking shock.

      “I know,” I said, and collapsed onto the bed, where Mom immediately crossed to me, draped her arms around my neck, and squeezed tight.

      “You’re beautiful,” Dad soothed, but I could tell even he was alarmed by what had developed overnight under his roof.

      I started crying. Desperate, no-way-out sobs. With a bucket of estrogen mixed in (again). God, I hate estrogen.

      “Why don’t you try your breathing exercises?” Mom said calmly, slowly rubbing my back and exchanging a knowing look with Dad that neither of them thought I could see through my wall of tears.

      “What’s the problem?” Dad asked stupidly.

      “Really?” I shot back, looking up at him like, You did this to me.

      “This is going to be a really educational year,” he said reflexively, sounding like Turner the Lives Coach during a Changers Mixer keynote address. “You’re going to grow by leaps and bounds.”

      “Oh, I think I’ve already grown by leaps and bounds.”

      “I don’t want to hear any of that smart-aleck attitude,” Dad said, now tipping into full disappointment in me.

      I turned to Mom. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

      “What’s to say?” she asked.

      “Seriously?”

      “Ory—Kim! That’s enough,” Dad said. “Don’t—”

      “Speak to your mother that way,” I interrupted, finishing his sentence. “Yeah yeah yeah. But you have to admit this is a rough card I just got dealt.”

      “Why? Because you’re a little heavier than you’re used to?” Mom asked.

      “A little?”

      “You’re actually quite lovely to look at. Empirically. Your lips are perfection and your skin is beautiful. You’re not exactly a walking horror show, Kim. Much as you may feel like one now.” She pushed the hair out of my left eye and tucked it behind my ear. It fell out and went back over my eye, a black curtain I was more than happy to duck behind. “In any event, you have to get ready for school,” she added, standing up and slapping her thighs. “Let’s see what we can come up with to get you out the door. And we’ll head to the mall later.”

      “Oh yay. The mall.”

      Mom chuckled despite herself, and Dad came over and awkwardly mussed my hair, sort of like he would when Ethan was around, then leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. “I have to get on the road. But you’re going to do great. No different than last year. Or the year before. You got this.”

      I didn’t bother arguing.

      In Mom and Dad’s closet were three garbage bags full of clothes from ReRunz.

Скачать книгу