Bullied

Chapter 4

There he was. The new guy. Shirtless. His lean, tan, muscular torso glimmering with sweat in the sunlight. He was right across the street helping two women move furniture and boxes into the tan stucco house. I couldn't seem to make my feet move from where they were planted on my lawn. I'm pretty sure I was drooling from the way my mouth hung open, but I somehow was incapable of not staring at him. Really? Across the street? I didn't have any classmates that lived on my street or even my block. Well, until now that is. It was a nice way to escape. I simply went home and never had to deal with them outside of school.

I watched as he walked into the house with an armload. His long, white basketball shorts hanging off his hips in such a way that my eyebrows raised without my permission. One of the women gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made him laugh. She was tall and showing off her tan legs in an activewear skort, her long, straight red hair falling just below her middle back. When he came back empty handed to grab another box, he spotted me, just standing there like a complete idiot. Quick! Pretend you weren't gawking. It was too late, though. He was already on his way over, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his brilliant white smile lighting up his face.

"Hey. I told you I'd see you later. I thought it would be more like tomorrow later, but this works too."

He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down at me from his slightly higher vantage point of about two full inches. I still hadn't said anything. At least I managed to close my mouth before I looked like a complete loser. Unless, it was already too late. He did just catch me googling him from my front lawn. He tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips together, trying to hide a small smile. I could tell he was waiting for me to say something, but I literally had no words. I wonder if his abs are as hard as they look. My eyes widened and my face flushed quickly with embarrassment. I averted my eyes as fast as was humanly possible, biting my lip. He chuckled and cleared his throat which made me look up. His hands were on his hips now and he was looking at me. Why is he looking at me?

"You don't really talk much do you? What's your name?"

"Did you lose your shirt or something? Kylie."

Why did I just say that?

"Lukas, call me Luke."

He laughed and yanked his shirt out of his pocket, pulling it over his head quickly. I practically groaned in simultaneous disappointment and relief. At least now I could concentrate on having a normal conversation with him without having the distraction of his half naked body glistening in front of me. I hugged my books to my chest a little tighter and cocked an eyebrow at him. I felt grumpy and anxious. I was hungry. My stomach was growling. On top of it all, a really decent looking guy just moved in across the street from me and wanted to chat. It was enough to make me want to turn tail and run. Why does he insist on talking to me? My fear was that this was some kind of game to torture me further, but he also didn't really know me. Why would he want to be cruel to a stranger? Because humans are evil, especially teenagers. Don't be fooled. I waved away my inner voice and licked my lips, preparing to talk to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Kylie."

Oh my god, he said my name! I was struggling to keep my breathing even and my voice controlled, but here was a really good looking guy being nice to me. I didn't understand why he was being so nice or why that made me want to cry. The only thing I understood was that I had to get away from him. Away from feeling like I was going to confess all my fears to him. Why do I feel the need to tell him anything at all? It was confusing and didn't make any sense to me. I carefully brought my eyes to meet his, afraid I wouldn't be able to look away. I had never felt like this before. He was being so nice. I just didn't know how to take it. He surprised me by readjusting my glasses back to their proper place on my nose, brushing my temples and ears with his gentle hands.

"There now. That's better."

"Um...I gotta go."

I spun on my heel quickly and walked away without looking behind me. I didn't even give him time to respond. I just closed the door behind me and ran upstairs to my room before my dad tried to talk to me. He touched me. He actually touched me. For too long people had treated me as if I had some sort of disease. I used to not have a weight problem, but after my mom left I fell into a sort of numb state. I had no one to talk to except for my dad and ended up finding solace in food. Now that I was denying myself the pleasure of eating, I felt in control of my body. In control of my life. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to explain it to anyone, especially not you. You wouldn't understand. You're just reading my story. You're not actually living my life. How could you possibly know what I'm going through?

A few minutes later I heard my dad come upstairs and knock gently on my door. I didn't want to answer, but the worry in his voice broke me down and caused me to let him in. I tried to hold back the tears by sitting on the bed and biting my lip, but the hot wet tears started to spill over the rims of my eyes, no longer able to contain the wetness behind my eyelids. My dad was sitting beside me in an instant, cradling my head against his chest and petting my hair. The sobs tore out of my chest, full of so much anguish that the release of my sadness made my throat feel raw. My dad cleared his throat, but I could tell that he didn't know what to do with me at the moment. He kissed my hair and murmured to me soft words that I couldn't understand due to the god-awful noise I was making. I relaxed as he rubbed my back and started to sing his favorite Frank Sinatra song.

"Come fly with me..."

The lyrics soothed me and soon my tears subsided, leaving me feeling sleepy and drained. I pulled back from my dad and he grabbed my hand with his other hand, the hand on my back remaining as I looked down and my own hands cradled in my lap. I had never broken down like this in front of him. Everything was getting to be too much and I knew that I would have a hard time explaining this without causing him more worry, but I couldn't keep holding it in. So, I did what any lonely teenager would do. I spilled the beans. I told him everything. Well almost everything. Not the part about avoiding food, but the rest of it. He assured me that everything would be alright, that he would take care of it. I wasn't sure what he meant exactly, but he kissed my forehead and left my room so fast it was almost like it had all been a dream.

It wasn't until I heard the knock on my door a minute later, that I registered that he had actually left the room. I told him to come in and was surprised to see the neighbor boy standing there with my dad. He had a picnic basket. The neighbor, I mean. I was suspicious. What is he doing here? My dad look just as taken aback as I was. We didn't usually have visitors, what with not having any family left besides each other. I am an only child, both sets of grandparents were gone and neither my dad nor my mother had any siblings. Besides that, I had no friends. No one wanted to come over to the fat girl's house. They might catch my obesity after all. The boy's insufferable smile caused the sides of my mouth to quirk. He really was persistent. Wasn't he?

"Fancy a picnic, Kylie?"

"Uh...Sure."

I shrugged my shoulders, too tired to fight him for the time being. I looked at my dad's puzzled face and brought my shoulders up once more, not really knowing what to say either. His eyebrows raised and he smiled slightly. I knew we'd have to talk about what was going on eventually, but for now I think he was just happy that I was spending time outside of the house with someone. They chatted back and forth before we left. I expected to be going to the park or something, but instead we went across the street to his house to sit on his porch swing. I was afraid I would break it, but impossibly it held my weight. He seemed completely unconcerned that it creaked when we both swung.

Please don't let it break. Somebody upstairs must have been listening to me, because nothing bad happened. Thankfully. We sat there in companionable silence, while he started to dig in. I sighed wearily, hungry, but trying not to show it. It wasn't until he insisted I take a sandwich that I gave in. I figured a little bite wouldn't hurt me. I tried to chew slowly, to savor it, but before I knew it that beautiful turkey sandwich was practically forcefully shoved down my gullet by my own two traitorous hands. The neighbor boy was staring at me, his sandwich suspended by his hand in mid air, his mouth slightly slack jawed. A lump formed in my throat and I felt like I was going to throw up. Shit. He put down his food and frowned for an instant, probably amazed at how much of a pig I was. Thinking he was about to tell me to go away because I was a disgusting fatty, I got into position to run away. Instead he surprised me by reaching out and wiping a crumb off with his thumb. He smiled at me in that way and once again my heart skipped a beat. Double shit! This boy was going to kill me.