My Secret Family

Mall Rats

Sophie

51kg and falling

Ana's svelte dress contoured the infinite rise of her legs and I was desperate to have them, to own them and put them on display under my fat hips so that others could feel what I felt when I looked at them, the fathomless joy of their perfection, the drama falling from a black dress so discretely tailored or perhaps so perfectly fitting that nothing else seemed worthy of this moment. Eat your heart out, Chanel.

She leaned against the wall outside the ladies' room at the mall while around her people visibly reacted to her presence. Today she wore dark eye-liner around her large almond eyes, her white-blonde hair fell with an advertorial sheen over the luxury of her black cotton dress.

I started to speak, felt the spell she cast dissolve in the air of my ruinous words, but carried on, "Oh, here you are. I've been waiting for, like, half an hour."

Mia emerged hurriedly from the narrow corridor behind Ana, wiping her mouth, breaking her stride when she saw me. Mia's sweat-suit and bad posture were stark contrast to Ana's Italian style. Strange friends.

Ana looked up from her phone long enough to notice Mia for a second and sighed under her breath.

"Ugh, I need shoes, " she lamented, as if there was someone near who would buy her whatever she wanted if she spoke loud enough, "these clogs are hurting me."

Ana's black designer heels, Prada or Jimmy Chu, could feed a family of four for a week if sold, even second hand.

Mia piped up, sucking on her smoothie, "My sneakers are so old they are on pension."

I laughed at Mia's joke but Ana ignored her, putting her phone into her tiny Gucci handbag or purse or some hybrid designer thing that I did not recognize slung nonchalantly from her silky tanned shoulder. Ana moved forward and we moved with her; seldom would she follow us, we were her friends, not the other way around.

"Oh look, your boyfriend is here, " Mia said and I panicked, because Luke was the last person on earth I wanted to see at that moment, but it was not Luke. Max strolled past on the other side of the mall corridor oblivious to us. He wore his favorite sweater with the portrait of Salvador Dali catching a cat, a sweater that was once tight fitting but now hung loose around his waist.

"He's not my boyfriend, " I said, but it did not feel right to say those words when they caught in my throat.

He carried a canvas under one arm, no doubt to paint some unsuspecting goddess. A girl in tight jean shorts walked past him and smiled at him, sending a shard of something up into my belly. She was all wrong for him, she would hurt him.

I looked over to Ana expecting to see her nose-deep in texts but she was looking up at Max, not looking at him, ready to mock, but checking him out. She was actually sizing him up.

"You guys do it yet?" Mia asked and I shushed her, because he was walking close enough to potentially hear their torment.

"She'd have to break his hymen first, " Ana said and I wanted to smash her Gucci thing into her pouty lips just to see what she would do.

"Hi, Maxipad," Mia said loudly long before he got near us, "Sophie has something for you... in her pants."

"Shut up!" I said in a loud whisper, hoping that Max was zoned out in his fantasy land. "You're both acting like twelve-year-olds."

I waited for him to lift his head and greet me and smile his skew smile, but he did not. He just walked past. I broke away from the two persecutors and caught up with him, touched his arm. "Hey," I said, trying to stay calm. I put my suddenly clammy hands into my hoodie pocket.

He stopped and looked around, pulling his tousled hair out of his face to look me in the eyes.

"Are you avoiding me?" I asked and he looked back down the corridor towards the girl who had smiled at him, now walking into the art shop where he had come out. I clenched my fists in my pockets.

"I don't really feel like all of you today, " he said and I cringed because he obviously heard Ana and Mia's stupid comments.

"Don't mind them, they're idiots, " I smiled at him but he did not smile back, instead he looked dazed. The diet must be getting to him. My hair felt suddenly too short, too masculine. An artist would want long flowing strands of hair, beautiful white-blonde hair falling onto tanned naked shoulders, not the short ginger mop l owned.

"You starting a new painting?" I moved across into his line of sight and now I noticed how pale he was, the dark shadows under his eyes, the once sunny flesh of his cheeks pulling tight against his cheekbones.

"Yup." He stopped, looking trapped.

This felt bad. I wanted to talk but the timing was wrong here. "Okay, well, good luck, " I said and felt tears welling up in my eyes.

Tears? I thought at that moment. Really? Oh shit.

Max gave me a thin fake smile and turned to where he was going, the exit. Behind us the decapitated fashion mannequins stood in cold perfection behind glass. How lucky they were to not have thoughts and feelings. They could just stand there and be perfect for all eternity.

"You're looking good, " I said and instantly realized this was the worst possible thing to say. I felt Ana and Mia stroll up behind me, their judgmental eyes piercing the back of my head. Why now, Ana, I thought, why can't you be your usual aloof self today?

Max looked over my shoulder, bowed his head and walked away without saying anything.