Page 3
Story: He Called Me Fat
I was rushing down the corridor to go to the library when I hit something solid that was powerful and hard. I lost my balance and would have fallen to the floor if two strong hands hadn’t reached out and grabbed me.
“I moved from never seeing you to constantly seeing you. Are you following me around? “Peter was looking down at me. When did he become so tall? He looked like he was 6’5” tall, and I was only 5’4” tall.
“I…I… “I swear I wasn’t stalking you,” I said, stammering.
He laughed again and replied, “I was just joking.” I was the one stalking you, though. I was really seeking for you.
“To me?” “
“Yes, I usually eat off campus, but I wanted to know if you would do me the honor of having lunch with me.”
Peter’s invitation to lunch caught me completely off guard, but after a while, my curiosity got the better of me, and I said yes. We got into Peter’s shiny dark blue Mustang and drove to The Nook Café, a small café two blocks from school. I knew it was close to school because I could walk back if things didn’t go well.
Peter opened his side of the car and said, “We’re here.” I got out, too, and waited for him to lock his car. We walked into The Nook Café together, and I could tell people were looking at us and probably wondering what a frumpy girl like me was doing with someone as good-looking as Peter.
We sat across from one other at a corner table and didn’t say a word. Before long, we were in a gazing contest that lasted for approximately two minutes before I turned away.
“So, is this just another trick to get me to forgive you for Friday?” “You already tried, and I’m not quite over it yet, but I’m getting there,” I said.
“Why are you so suspicious? I’m not trying to do anything.” He raised his hand to call a server to our table and stated, “I want to have lunch with a classmate.”
A brunette waitress who seemed to be about our age walked up to our table.
“Hi, I’m Brooke, and I’ll be your server today. “What can I get for you all?” she said, but she was facing Peter and not me. She was entirely focused on him.
“I’ll have a cheese steak burger and a coke,” Peter stated without even glancing at the menu. I glanced it over nonetheless, even though I knew I was going to order a salad.
“Could I please have a chicken salad without the dressing and a glass of water?” I said, “Thank you,” and gave her my menu.
Peter remarked, “I didn’t know you were in my history class,” as the waitress moved away from the table.
“I didn’t either,”
There was an unpleasant stillness at the table, and I looked around the restaurant to avoid looking at him.
“Not to be rude, but is there a point to this little get-together?” I enquired.
Peter sighed a little, then stood up and grabbed a card out of his back pocket. “There is a point to this,” he said. “I just hoped we could eat first, but let’s get to it. Now, what about showing it between the two of us, okay?”
I shook my head, dying within from curiosity.
“Sorry about the bent card,” he replied, giving her a simple white card. There was nothing on the front, and when I flipped it over, there was nothing on the back either.
Peter answered, “Open it,” with hope.
When I opened the card, there were several pictures inside. I picked up the first one, and there was a very obese youngster who looked around nine years old standing next to a very tiny boy. In another image, the same big boy was bending over a really attractive woman to get to what seemed like a platter of chips. I looked up at Peter with a query in my eyes.
“That fat boy in the pictures is me. I was about eight,” he claimed.
I looked at the images again and saw them differently. Now that I thought about it, the small child did look a bit like Peter.
“Puberty must have done wonders for you,” I remarked.
“After Friday, I went home and thought about how I used to be. I felt really bad about calling you what I did. Nobody here knows I used to like this except my family and the boy in the first picture. I thought that if I shared this part of myself with you, it would really help you.”
I grinned to myself as I gazed down at the images. Peter showing me this made me feel a little special, and I was able to really let go of his statement about my weight. I said, “What’s the deal with this picture?” to make things better.
I slipped the photo of him reaching for the chips to him. He groaned and put his hands over his head, then lifted it back up.
“I don’t know why I chose such an embarrassing picture to show you. That woman was my mom, and she called me to come take a picture, but all I could see were the potato chips. I was a really greedy, fat kid, but I naturally lost some weight when I was twelve. By thirteen, I was doing sports, and now I’m like this.”
I laughed again as I looked at the photo again.
He reached out and placed a strand of hair that had fallen into my eyes behind my ears. “You have a really pretty laugh,” he remarked. I could feel my heart racing a little, and I leaned into him.
“Ehmm, here is your order,” the waitress from earlier stated, bringing Peter’s burger and coke in front of him and putting my salad and water in front of me, “Is that all ?”
We both nodded, the moment from earlier destroyed. I started to pick at my salad, but I couldn’t taste it.
Peter said, “So, have I completely made up for it?”
“You’re not that bad,” I answered with a smile.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad either,” he said, smiling back at me.
We began to eat, and this time, the quiet was nice. I look up and notice him gazing at me. I knew that if he looked closely, he would see that my cheeks were bright red.
Peter remarked, “You know what? Now that I think about it, you’re more than alright. I think I like you.”
I thought my cheeks were on fire now.
Who’s up for a party?
Peter asked me again on Tuesday at lunch to eat at The Nook Café outside of school. He asked me to lunch at The Nook Café outside of school on Wednesday. By Thursday, he didn’t even have to come and get me; I met him outside in his car. I had been eating lunch with Peter every day for the last two weeks, and now it was official.
Sorry, Mrs. Archer, but someone else is taking your place.
Chloe was quite distrustful of Peter and me, and it was all Evans’ fault. We had become friends since we spoke so much, so when he came into history class, he would grin at me and even wink at me sometimes. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want too many people to know about our friendship. Peter was very well-liked, and if people found out we were spending so much time together, I would be in the limelight, which I didn’t want.
It was Friday, and I had been talking to Peter for three weeks. I was sitting in my history lesson with Chloe, who was now texting under the table. Miss Bennett wasn’t here today, so we didn’t have any work to complete. I was reading chapter fifteen to get a jump start on our next session.
“I know you’ve been saying you don’t know Peter for the last two weeks, but I just wanted to let you know that he’s walking towards you right now,” Chloe remarked, interrupting the excellent paragraph I was reading on Voltaire and the Divine Rights. I looked at her, and she was grinning at me. Then I looked up and saw Peter coming towards me.
“I moved from never seeing you to constantly seeing you. Are you following me around? “Peter was looking down at me. When did he become so tall? He looked like he was 6’5” tall, and I was only 5’4” tall.
“I…I… “I swear I wasn’t stalking you,” I said, stammering.
He laughed again and replied, “I was just joking.” I was the one stalking you, though. I was really seeking for you.
“To me?” “
“Yes, I usually eat off campus, but I wanted to know if you would do me the honor of having lunch with me.”
Peter’s invitation to lunch caught me completely off guard, but after a while, my curiosity got the better of me, and I said yes. We got into Peter’s shiny dark blue Mustang and drove to The Nook Café, a small café two blocks from school. I knew it was close to school because I could walk back if things didn’t go well.
Peter opened his side of the car and said, “We’re here.” I got out, too, and waited for him to lock his car. We walked into The Nook Café together, and I could tell people were looking at us and probably wondering what a frumpy girl like me was doing with someone as good-looking as Peter.
We sat across from one other at a corner table and didn’t say a word. Before long, we were in a gazing contest that lasted for approximately two minutes before I turned away.
“So, is this just another trick to get me to forgive you for Friday?” “You already tried, and I’m not quite over it yet, but I’m getting there,” I said.
“Why are you so suspicious? I’m not trying to do anything.” He raised his hand to call a server to our table and stated, “I want to have lunch with a classmate.”
A brunette waitress who seemed to be about our age walked up to our table.
“Hi, I’m Brooke, and I’ll be your server today. “What can I get for you all?” she said, but she was facing Peter and not me. She was entirely focused on him.
“I’ll have a cheese steak burger and a coke,” Peter stated without even glancing at the menu. I glanced it over nonetheless, even though I knew I was going to order a salad.
“Could I please have a chicken salad without the dressing and a glass of water?” I said, “Thank you,” and gave her my menu.
Peter remarked, “I didn’t know you were in my history class,” as the waitress moved away from the table.
“I didn’t either,”
There was an unpleasant stillness at the table, and I looked around the restaurant to avoid looking at him.
“Not to be rude, but is there a point to this little get-together?” I enquired.
Peter sighed a little, then stood up and grabbed a card out of his back pocket. “There is a point to this,” he said. “I just hoped we could eat first, but let’s get to it. Now, what about showing it between the two of us, okay?”
I shook my head, dying within from curiosity.
“Sorry about the bent card,” he replied, giving her a simple white card. There was nothing on the front, and when I flipped it over, there was nothing on the back either.
Peter answered, “Open it,” with hope.
When I opened the card, there were several pictures inside. I picked up the first one, and there was a very obese youngster who looked around nine years old standing next to a very tiny boy. In another image, the same big boy was bending over a really attractive woman to get to what seemed like a platter of chips. I looked up at Peter with a query in my eyes.
“That fat boy in the pictures is me. I was about eight,” he claimed.
I looked at the images again and saw them differently. Now that I thought about it, the small child did look a bit like Peter.
“Puberty must have done wonders for you,” I remarked.
“After Friday, I went home and thought about how I used to be. I felt really bad about calling you what I did. Nobody here knows I used to like this except my family and the boy in the first picture. I thought that if I shared this part of myself with you, it would really help you.”
I grinned to myself as I gazed down at the images. Peter showing me this made me feel a little special, and I was able to really let go of his statement about my weight. I said, “What’s the deal with this picture?” to make things better.
I slipped the photo of him reaching for the chips to him. He groaned and put his hands over his head, then lifted it back up.
“I don’t know why I chose such an embarrassing picture to show you. That woman was my mom, and she called me to come take a picture, but all I could see were the potato chips. I was a really greedy, fat kid, but I naturally lost some weight when I was twelve. By thirteen, I was doing sports, and now I’m like this.”
I laughed again as I looked at the photo again.
He reached out and placed a strand of hair that had fallen into my eyes behind my ears. “You have a really pretty laugh,” he remarked. I could feel my heart racing a little, and I leaned into him.
“Ehmm, here is your order,” the waitress from earlier stated, bringing Peter’s burger and coke in front of him and putting my salad and water in front of me, “Is that all ?”
We both nodded, the moment from earlier destroyed. I started to pick at my salad, but I couldn’t taste it.
Peter said, “So, have I completely made up for it?”
“You’re not that bad,” I answered with a smile.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad either,” he said, smiling back at me.
We began to eat, and this time, the quiet was nice. I look up and notice him gazing at me. I knew that if he looked closely, he would see that my cheeks were bright red.
Peter remarked, “You know what? Now that I think about it, you’re more than alright. I think I like you.”
I thought my cheeks were on fire now.
Who’s up for a party?
Peter asked me again on Tuesday at lunch to eat at The Nook Café outside of school. He asked me to lunch at The Nook Café outside of school on Wednesday. By Thursday, he didn’t even have to come and get me; I met him outside in his car. I had been eating lunch with Peter every day for the last two weeks, and now it was official.
Sorry, Mrs. Archer, but someone else is taking your place.
Chloe was quite distrustful of Peter and me, and it was all Evans’ fault. We had become friends since we spoke so much, so when he came into history class, he would grin at me and even wink at me sometimes. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want too many people to know about our friendship. Peter was very well-liked, and if people found out we were spending so much time together, I would be in the limelight, which I didn’t want.
It was Friday, and I had been talking to Peter for three weeks. I was sitting in my history lesson with Chloe, who was now texting under the table. Miss Bennett wasn’t here today, so we didn’t have any work to complete. I was reading chapter fifteen to get a jump start on our next session.
“I know you’ve been saying you don’t know Peter for the last two weeks, but I just wanted to let you know that he’s walking towards you right now,” Chloe remarked, interrupting the excellent paragraph I was reading on Voltaire and the Divine Rights. I looked at her, and she was grinning at me. Then I looked up and saw Peter coming towards me.