Fat Chance

One Love

I sat in the dungeon at home, fresh out of the shower, thinking about today, which was one of the best days I've had in a while. 

Stella and I basically chilled out the whole time I was over at her house. We played music and song along to it, we talked shit about teachers and kids in our school, we went for a walk outside, we ate chocolate chip cookies and drank lemonade. (turns out Martini is not only a great homemaker, but also a great baker; what a shocker.) We basically had a kick ass time.

And the best part is, I'm invited over again next Friday. Except this time, since Martini has now met me, I'll get to stay overnight! I'm both nervous and excited; nervous because the second to the last time I was at a sleepover, my bitchy ass friend McKenna decided to take picture of my underwear and send them to everyone in the whole middle school. I know I had nothing to worry about with Stella, but I was still going to be self conscious. 

For the first time in months, I was truly happy. I finally had a real friends. A true friend. Someone who liked me for me. Fatness and all. Stella was the I'd in months that wasn't made by Alecia, and that alone was pretty amazing. For some reason, I feel like Stella and Alecia wouldn't get along. Or at least I hoped not. 

I laid on my air mattress and stared up at the ceiling, even though there was nothing there I couldn't get Stella and how much fun we'd had today out of my head. Her laugh, her hair, the way, when she talked, she made even the most boring things come to life....It was all too much. 

"Ugh," I thought. "Not this again." Why couldn't I just stop being a freak? For just one fucking day? First it's my mental retardation, then it's my obesity and now......this. When was enough going to be enough? Even though I know I'd never get one, why couldn't I just like guys? Maybe fantasize about kissing one or at least have the desire to want to date one? But no. I had to be even more of a freak, even MORE messed up.

"STOP!" I yelled. I quickly covered my mouth and waited to see if anyone was going to yell at me to shut up. After 15 seconds, I decided I was safe and laid back down. "Maybe if I just continue to not think about it...." I sighed. Who was I kidding? Not thinking about my being a freak wasn't going to change anything. It never had. 

I've liked girls ever since I can remember. Whenever I was younger and would watch TV or look at magazines, I always noticed how pretty the girls were instead of how cute the guys were. While every other girl my age was obsessing over One Direction or Justin Bieber, I was obsessed with Rihanna and other female YouTubers. 

At first I thought it was a bit normal to think other girls were attractive. All the popular girls talked about how hot some girls were and how nice their boobs were, etc. But it wasn't until halfway through 5th grade that I realized things were different with me. 

I started having full blown crushes on girls that went to my school, which ended up being a huge problem. I would stare at girls undressing in the locker rooms, which I got away with for approximately 2 gym periods before getting noticed. 

Rumors were already circulating that I was a lesbian, mainly because of the whole "being obsessed with Rihanna" thing, but also because I had rejected dating Danny. A lot of guys asked me out, before I got fat, of course, which always ended up in rejection. 

Not to mention I wasn't into wearing makeup or doing anything else with my hair besides brushing it, and I didn't like any boy bands or male web celebrities. My walls, in my old room, were covered in magazine cut outs of girls, mostly in revealing clothing. 

But of course, nobody made fun of me for being a supposed lesbian after I gained weight, because it's much more fun to pick on something that was fact instead of mostly rumor. So nobody noticed when I started to fall in love. 

Her name was Katilin. She wasn't someone popular, so as far as everyone else was concerned, she didn't exist. She was very shy and quiet when around others. She sat at a mostly empty table with only a few friends during lunch and almost never talked unless spoken too. Katilin had been in classes with me since PreSchool, but I had never even thought so much as to glance her way until our paths crossed miraculously one day. 

February 2013. 6th grade. 

I was trying to find a place to peacefully eat my lunch. At this time, I hadn't been officially kicked out of the popular clique, but I wasn't necessarily on good terms with the majority of the girls or guys who ran with the girls I sat with at lunch, and I got sick of being laughed at. 

I ran down the hall with my lunchbox in my hand, trying not to get caught. I looked down every hallway and tried opening the door to every room until finally I was able to find a door that was unlocked, the door to the old speech therapy room.

Frantically looking around, I eased the door open and squeezed inside the dark room, pressing my body tightly against the wall. I listened intently for any signs that anyone had saw me or started to follow me. After a few seconds of silence, I slid down against the wall onto the floor, letting my body go numb with relief. 

"Who are YOU hiding from?"

I jumped and whipped my head sideways and saw a small dark figure sitting in the corner of the room. I reached up to flip the light switch on. Curled up in a bean bag with a Kindle in her lap, was Katilin. Before now, me and her had never said even one word to each other, or had I actually gotten a good look at her.

Katilin was a very skinny, medium height girl. She had hazel eyes, insanely pale skin (even more pale then mine, which is saying a lot) and a light spray of light brown freckles going across her nose and upper cheeks. At this very moment in time, she was wearing a grey with a few red strips zip up sweatshirt with a  green Super Mario Bros. green mushroom t-shirt underneath, black jeans, and grey with green stripes colored gym shoes.

One thing Katilin also had was very long, very beautiful light brown hair. It always looked shiny and soft and whenever I smelled it, it smelled like strawberries. She was wearing a green John Deere baseball cap, like she almost did when not in class.

The most amazing thing about her looks is that she was insanely gorgeous without even trying. She just woke up every morning, threw on the first clothes she saw, brushed her hair and teeth, and headed out the door. She didn't need makeup. She was perfect without it. Even in the baggy tomboy clothes she always wore, even with smaller boobs and almost no ass, she was still the sexiest girl I have ever seen, even to this day.

Well, I mean...except for Rihanna.

That day in that abandoned classroom where we were both skipping class was what started our friendship. I, of course, never saw her as just a friend, since I basically fell in love with her at first sight.

As I got to know her, things just went even more downhill (or uphill, depending on what side your looking at it from.) We started becoming super close; hanging out every weekend, skipping class to hang out with each other.

 I had never loved or liked any human ever more then I did Katilin. Her personality was the best thing about her. She could make me laugh, she could make me cry, she could make happy, she could make me angry. She could make me feel anything and everything. And the most amazing thing is, she always knew when I needed to feel what. She could take one look at me and know something had happened, good or bad.

We developed inside jokes and common bonds. I shared with her my undying love of Rihanna and writing, she shared her love of Harry Potter. Even though I had never been into the book series before, she totally pulled me into it. And no, I didn't just start reading/ liking Harry Potter because I wanted her to like me. I genuinely started to like them, it just took her to introduce me.

Every moment we spent together was the best thing I had ever known. Even if it was just sitting and watching her read, I was happy. I could never stop myself from staring at her whenever I thought she wasn't looking. Surprisingly, she never did catch me looking at her, and neither did anyone else.

Until the last day of 7th grade.