Chapter 2: Lunchroom Disaster

54 2 3
                                    


It wasn't even the first hour of school and I was already tempted to mentally checkout from the day. My stomach rumbled in discontented rage - I'd missed breakfast.

Stupid.

Now the thought of food was going to haunt me all through my next two classes. Maybe if I just scoffed something down now I-

"-Hey, can you please move? You're taking up two lockers." I glanced briefly at the girl interrupting my thoughts, recognizing the dark-haired girl I once had in my Math class a few years back - Stella Knight. A rather unpleasant individual already, she also had the annoying habit of smacking her gum. Extremely loud.

Which if you're trying to find what 'x' equals in an equation you've been stuck on for a good 20 minutes, being able to hear someone chewing their gum from the other side of the room was very distracting, to say the least.

I could hear her chewing it now.

Smack. Chew chew chew. Smack! pop! Chew chew chew. Squelchy saliva sounds, chew - wait for it! - smack!

Gross.

"Of course my locker's next to Stella," I thought, wanting to give her a full piece of my mind.

"Get over yourself," I said..... in my head, keeping my gaze on my black docs - a dark, somber look for school - and lumbering out of the way. My footsteps smacked ungraciously against the cold, tiled floor.

"Geez," Stella muttered, rolling her eyes like I'd just done some great injustice to the world by standing in front of her locker. "Fat freak." Smack! Squelch.

Hurt coiled in my stomach, my spirits deflating & self-esteem plummeting through the floor at an alarming speed. I'd been hoping the black jeans and simple grey hoodie I'd donned today were somewhat flattering. My gaze lingered on my belt with a new-found awareness where a slight bulge hinted at the chubby mess that had accumulated over my stomach.

I then look at Stella, whose twig legs had never seemed so skinny in comparison, and her small waist that she loved to flaunt. Opening her locker, she cast me a half-surprised, half-angry glare. I must have been staring.

"What?" Stella spat at me. A waft of bubblegum HubbaBubba mixed with what I think was today's breakfast floats towards me. She looked angry, possibly angry enough to spit her beloved gum at me like she once did to Will Collins in 9th grade after he broke up with her. He had to cut out four strands of his hair to get the sticky blob unstuck, leaving him with a lopsided mob (man bob) for a good 2 months.

I rather liked my hair so suddenly, the floor looked very interesting. I saw someone's discarded cereal near my Docs and gently nudged it with a leather-clad foot. "Nothing," I mumbled, barely audible. My hair falls, covering a good part of my face. Hiding me.

She sniffed, looking down at me with disdain. "Stop staring at me, I don't swing that way."

I stared at her like a deer in the headlights. "I... I was just - " My boot slipped, crushing the fragile cereal with an audible crunch. It was an ugly, horrible sound, like someone chewing with their mouth open... Like Stella chewing her gum.

"Hey, Ash!" A familiar high-pitched voice sounded out from behind me, making Stella sneer at me and flounce off. I allowed a small smile to the girl that had unknowingly came to my rescue.

Claire.

She ran forward, latching onto me in a hug that felt entirely awkward. The scent of Victoria Secret body spray assaulted my nostrils, unpleasant and lingering. Due to what I call an unfortunate height deficiency, her 5'7 frame dwarfed my 5'2 one, smashing my face against her boob. It was quite uncomfortable.

The Fat Girl ChroniclesWhere stories live. Discover now