Paper Thin

• 14: Massachusetts •

Melody

After Emma, Alani, Cora and Noah's excitement died down, they went back to a conversation of their own. Suddenly a buzz in my pocket made my heart flutter with excitement. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at it. A text from Gavin. I unlocked it and opened the message.

Sorry kiddo, they went with another model.

Gavin LeBlanc; 12:43pm

My heart dropped, and I swallowed hard.

Why didn't they pick me? Maybe someone was just better? Maybe someone fit the brand better? Probably. They were probably prettier, and skinnier and the clothes probably fit better on them. Skinnier... I suddenly lost my appetite.

"I've got to go," I said, standing up and grabbing my backpack and lunch, which now felt like rock stones in my stomach. I headed towards the cafeteria doors that lead outside then tossed my lunch into the garbage and pushed through the doors.

There was a patio with students sitting there, but I quickly passed by them and walked over to a patch of trees behind the bleachers that faced the football field. The disappointment of not getting the job hit me like a cartoon piano thrown off a building. It was heavy and disheartening. I sat under the trees, not caring about my dress and let the tears flow freely.

I would never succeed if I continued not booking any jobs. But something inside me just kept breaking every time I didn't. It made me wonder why I didn't get them and why I kept putting myself through the torture.

You want to be like her... a voice in my head said. It was true. I did and that's why I kept doing this. But I knew I'd never be like her.

That's because you're fat. You eat too much... You're too ugly... Do you want to go on?

I put my head in my hands and tried to focus on breathing. This disappointment hurt, but I also hated how trapped I felt in my body, in this school and in this li–

"Melody?"

Carson. Well shit.

"H-hey," I croaked unattractively and felt my face turning crimson. I wiped my eyes, though the tear stains were probably still there. I hated crying and tried not to, but it happened more often than I'd like. I glanced to my right and saw him walking towards me.

"Can I sit?" He asked. I bit my lip, unsure, but I found myself nodding before I could stop myself. Carson sat down next to me. "So, when I was maybe 1 year old, I was jumping on the bed while my mom was in the bathroom. My dad was on a business trip in Massachusetts," Carson began. I was confused but looked up at him listening to this story. "But, being a clumsy little one, I fell off of the bed. And of course, the builders hadn't tucked a nail into the wall properly, so I managed to land on it. When I got up screaming, I picked up the phone and yelled 'Daddy? Daddy? No, daddy!' and threw it down on the floor." I giggled at this, imagining a tiny version of Carson throwing a tantrum because his dad didn't pick up. "Of course, my mom was freaked out and I had to get stitches, but it was pretty funny in hindsight that I'd tried to call my dad," he finished.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled at him. "Why'd you tell me that story?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't want to talk about it," Carson said with a shrug. I looked away, but my smile grew wider.

"Thank you," I replied softly. We were quiet for a moment, the only sound interrupting the peace was the bell for class. "Aren't you going to be late for class?"