own—of course, one hole remained. The theory, although odd, was interesting.
A few seconds passed. Then she said, “I noticed the poster for the Winter Dance. Are you going?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. Hiding the truth, I tried to act like the dance didn’t matter.
“Did anyone ask you?”
“What?” My cheeks flushed as I instantly thought of Conner.
“Well, you know it would be okay if a boy asked you. You’re so pretty, of course guys will be lining up to take you to the dance.”
I rolled my eyes. Oh no, my mom is going to give me “the talk” again…here it comes.
She continued. Once she started there was no stopping her. “It’s fine going to the dance with a boy, but don’t get too attached. You’re too young for a boyfriend. I don’t want you to even think about having a boyfriend until college. You need to focus on your studies. Besides, they only want one thi —”
“Mom!” I interrupted. Ugh. I hated it when she cornered me in the car for talks like this one, where there was no escape (except for jumping out, which I considered on many occasions). I had been hearing variations of this “talk” for a few months now, ever since I started developing in the chest area.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not interested in anyone and nobody is interested in me. If I go to the dance I’ll just be going with some of my friends.” Sigh, friends…I’ll really need to get me some of those.
“Oh, okay. Like Karen and Britney?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to tell her that Karen was not my friend and was the reason why I was always so moody and miserable. Luckily, I was able to chalk it up to puberty and hormones.
My mom seemed satisfied…for now.
The minute I got out of the car, I raided the fridge and cupboard. I took out skim milk and double chocolate chip cookies… chocolate… mmmm …I was thoroughly enjoying my afterschool snack, already thinking about my next meal, when my mom came into the kitchen.
“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.” She questioned in statement form. Worry was marked all over her face as she glanced down at my slightly exposed belly. I quickly tugged down on my shirt as my face burned.
Puberty seemed to hit me a few months ago and breasts were not the only part I gained. I started to gain weight so fast I didn’t know what was happening until I was twenty pounds heavier. I started wearing larger shirts to cover my tummy rolls, but I could never hide it from my mom. She saw everything.
That was it. I broke. Hot, salty tears rolled down my cheeks. “Fine!” I exclaimed a little harsher than I meant to, and stormed up to my room and slammed the door.
I plopped onto my down feather bed and cried until my pillow was drenched. My heart pounding so hard, the beat slightly off. Why was this happening to me?
I thought I was a good girl. I always obeyed my parents and teachers. Always doing the right thing and never talking back. I never worried about what and how much food I ate. I never wanted desperately to be friends with a mean girl like Karen.
It used to be easy. Simple. Now, everything was just messed up and I didn’t know what to do. I’m lost. So lost.
11
Once the bell rang, everyone jumped out of the yellow plastic seats. I still hadn’t figured out why the school did not opt for more appealing chairs to set beside their ostentatious, donated mahogany desks. I supposed they were waiting for the next “generous donation” from their parental patrons. I rushed out the door among the clamoring herd. Nobody was able to concentrate today. It was the school dance.
I decided to stall and stop by the bathroom before I went to the dance. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who had that idea. There was a line out the door as girls were primping and changing.
Karen and her friends were also there, putting on way too much makeup and deciding on what outfit to change into. Somehow she had with her a garment bag full of designer dresses. I
A few seconds passed. Then she said, “I noticed the poster for the Winter Dance. Are you going?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged. Hiding the truth, I tried to act like the dance didn’t matter.
“Did anyone ask you?”
“What?” My cheeks flushed as I instantly thought of Conner.
“Well, you know it would be okay if a boy asked you. You’re so pretty, of course guys will be lining up to take you to the dance.”
I rolled my eyes. Oh no, my mom is going to give me “the talk” again…here it comes.
She continued. Once she started there was no stopping her. “It’s fine going to the dance with a boy, but don’t get too attached. You’re too young for a boyfriend. I don’t want you to even think about having a boyfriend until college. You need to focus on your studies. Besides, they only want one thi —”
“Mom!” I interrupted. Ugh. I hated it when she cornered me in the car for talks like this one, where there was no escape (except for jumping out, which I considered on many occasions). I had been hearing variations of this “talk” for a few months now, ever since I started developing in the chest area.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not interested in anyone and nobody is interested in me. If I go to the dance I’ll just be going with some of my friends.” Sigh, friends…I’ll really need to get me some of those.
“Oh, okay. Like Karen and Britney?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to tell her that Karen was not my friend and was the reason why I was always so moody and miserable. Luckily, I was able to chalk it up to puberty and hormones.
My mom seemed satisfied…for now.
The minute I got out of the car, I raided the fridge and cupboard. I took out skim milk and double chocolate chip cookies… chocolate… mmmm …I was thoroughly enjoying my afterschool snack, already thinking about my next meal, when my mom came into the kitchen.
“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.” She questioned in statement form. Worry was marked all over her face as she glanced down at my slightly exposed belly. I quickly tugged down on my shirt as my face burned.
Puberty seemed to hit me a few months ago and breasts were not the only part I gained. I started to gain weight so fast I didn’t know what was happening until I was twenty pounds heavier. I started wearing larger shirts to cover my tummy rolls, but I could never hide it from my mom. She saw everything.
That was it. I broke. Hot, salty tears rolled down my cheeks. “Fine!” I exclaimed a little harsher than I meant to, and stormed up to my room and slammed the door.
I plopped onto my down feather bed and cried until my pillow was drenched. My heart pounding so hard, the beat slightly off. Why was this happening to me?
I thought I was a good girl. I always obeyed my parents and teachers. Always doing the right thing and never talking back. I never worried about what and how much food I ate. I never wanted desperately to be friends with a mean girl like Karen.
It used to be easy. Simple. Now, everything was just messed up and I didn’t know what to do. I’m lost. So lost.
11
Once the bell rang, everyone jumped out of the yellow plastic seats. I still hadn’t figured out why the school did not opt for more appealing chairs to set beside their ostentatious, donated mahogany desks. I supposed they were waiting for the next “generous donation” from their parental patrons. I rushed out the door among the clamoring herd. Nobody was able to concentrate today. It was the school dance.
I decided to stall and stop by the bathroom before I went to the dance. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who had that idea. There was a line out the door as girls were primping and changing.
Karen and her friends were also there, putting on way too much makeup and deciding on what outfit to change into. Somehow she had with her a garment bag full of designer dresses. I
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