As someone who has suffered most of the lows and not many of the highs of High school, I can tell you that the worst thing is the rumours.... (And the weird smell coming from the boys' toilet, that one creepy teacher that you're sure is an unregistered sex-offender, the gangs of girls that roam the corridors at lunchtime, the hairy wart on the end of Mr Warlman's nose....)
Ok, so maybe school just is the worst thing ever in general.
The first day back at school was no exception. A horrifying reminder that the glorious summer holidays had ended.
I'd already seen the creepy drama teacher perving in the hallway, had passed the giant wart in his office, I'd seen the girls chatting up some group of guys; nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary....
Then Levi Mayvers walked through the school doors.
There was an eery tension, one a person could sense even over the high-pitched giggles and rumbles of nearby laughter. The doors swung closed, Levi standing still for a split second, his body a lonely silhouette.
His movements were robotic and anything but casual. every movement, every facial expression, seemed forced. Even so, he had a lingering confidence - an unapologetic mess of black curls and a fiery scowl. And it suited him, don't get me wrong, but there was a tangible sadness that his solemn expression only alluded to.
Just last year, he'd be greeted with dozens of bro-handshakes while girls fawned over him. He'd take his place in the circle of genetically blessed high-schoolers and stand there, laughing and trading jokes, smiles all around. He had looked happy, carefree even.
Everything seemed to have changed.
Without his signature cocky grin, Levi seemed... Empty. His once short hair had grown out during the holidays into longer, tousled strands that emphasized his green eyes. He had swapped his signature navy blue t-shirts for black, lazily throwing a hoodie over it. Levi's usually muscular, soccer frame was looking gaunt - he'd obviously lost weight. He looked like he didn't give a shit.
But mainly, with his shoulders hunched over defensively and his down-turned mouth, Levi looked lost.
His former mates looked the other way as he walked by, trading panicked glances with each other. Only one dared to approach him - a stocky, brown-haired boy who extended a hand like one would to a person drowning.
I recognized him at once; James Carter - Levi's best childhood friend. Practically attached at the hip, they were famous for their easy companionship and loyalty to each other. Now awkwardness had wrapped its icy tendrils around them both, creating a sudden chill that seemed to freeze the entire hallway in its tracks.
"Hey mate, how's it going?"
His eyes revealed sympathy, while Levi's revealed nothing.
Levi stared at the boy's hand for a moment. Then, with a hard voice that seemed to echo through the hallway, he spoke:
"Fuck off."
The nervous smile seemed to vanish from James's face, replaced by a look of deep weariness. "C'mon Lee, I've tried everything to help you. I've tried so many times to call you. I've apologized for something that's not even my fault. What more can I do?" There was a hint of desperation in his voice.
Levi's stony expression cracked for a mere second if only to harden more.
"What you can do," he spat, "is go back to your loyal lapdogs over there," gesturing to his old group of mates, "and leave me the fuck alone."
Levi went to shoulder past James, but the skilled soccer player in him moved to intercept Levi. Everyone had always remarked on the luck of them not being rivals on the field, how they would destroy each other.
The school's best striker and defender facing off in a head to head battle.
"Can we just talk?"
"No..." The determination in Levi's voice cracked slightly, but he gathered himself quickly. "Now move or you'll regret it."
A spark of stubbornness flashed in James' eyes. "You won't hurt me if that's what I think you mean."
Levi just shook his head, licorice curls bouncing off chiseled cheekbones. His left fist clenched, a reflexive mechanism, but I doubt anyone noticed but me. I was the fly on the wall, albeit a fat one.
James gave up on reasoning, the tone in his voice giving way to pleading. "You're my best frie-"
He was cut off by the dull thud of a fist into his cheekbone, making him reel back, clutching his face. There was a chorus of ill-disguised gasps from bystanders, as they watched the destroyed train-wreck of what once was a friendship.
James' teammates went to move in protectively beside him, but he waved them off with a tired hand. He didn't retaliate against Levi's attack, instead straightening up and running a hand through his brown locks. I noticed the start of a bruise near James' left eye and knew he would be bearing the aftermath of Levi's fist for the next week.
"Fine, have it your way - push everyone away. I don't care." James said, bitterly. He laughed a harsh grating sound. "You're really just going to not talk to me - ten years of friendship right down the fucking drain?!"
Levi walked away without a word, as if answering his question, leaving the crowd of onlookers to break in vicious gossip. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as he approached them, knowing he would otherwise just shove his way through. He disappeared from view as the crowd closed behind him like a gentle sigh of relief.
The whispers spread through the senior hallway like wild-fire.
"I heard his mum died - cancer." An acne-riddled guy whispered to his friends.
"Nah bro, she killed herself - totally carked it." A taller, blonde boy argued back. This same guy I'd seen just last year right by Levi's side as one of his good mates. Their voices grew hushed as they realized the entire hallway had been listening in.
The corridor became as silent as a graveyard. The bell rang, making everyone jump. A petite redhead screamed in shock at the shrill sound, prompting people near her to burst out into laughter. The negative aura that had seemed to encompass the long stretch of tiles receded, but still wasn't shaken. Memories of Levi's punch still lingered, weaving technicolor strands, ingraining an unforgettable event in my brain.
Although somehow, I knew that wouldn't be the most shocking thing Levi Mayvers would do this year.
No, that wouldn't be the last I'd see of him.
Not even close.
*******
YOU ARE READING
The Fat Girl Chronicles
Teen Fiction"So, as I was saying, you don't need to feel bad about not having anything interesting in your life, because you totally have the whole...." She gestures to my body, not quite finding the word. "Fat thing?" I say, flatly. "Well, since you put it li...
