As I sit in English, I pull the sleeves down on my sweater so just the tips of my fingers poke out the top. I look up from my work to see my English teacher staring at my weirdly, I shiver and go back to writing my essay. As I write line after line of complete bullshit I can feel his eyes boring into my head. This has been happening in every lesson since that awful incident in the dance studio- I keep of catching my teachers giving me odd looks or staring for just a bit too long. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and try to block out his stares. I take my phone subtly out of my pocket and check the time. Thank god. The bell should go soon and I’m free to leave this shit hole. I sigh and finish writing my essay. When the bell does ring its sound like heaven to my ears. I smile and shove my school books into my rucksack, and leave as quickly as I can. Just as I think I’m free hands grab my shoulders. I turn around with a glare on my eyes ready to tell who ever it is to fuck off. But it’s Abi. She raises her eyebrow at me.
“hey girl, I’m going to the pool , do you wanna come with? I was supposed to be going with jenny and Emily but they’ve kind of let me down.” I sum up the options in my head, so I’m her second choice but swimming is great exercise. Plus I do have my swim kit in my locker.
“sure thing” I say as we walk over to my locker and I pull out my kit, she smiles.
“thanks hun” as she natters on about crap I whip out my phone and text my mum.
Going swimming with Abi and then out for dinner. So I won’t be home for a bit xxx
At least by telling my mum that I’m eating with Abi I don’t have to worry about eating when I get home.
As we go into separate cubicles to get changed into our swim kit I start to regret agreeing to this. I slide my black swimming costume on and try not to spend too much time thinking about my thunder thighs. I wrap a towel around my body and rub a lot of Johnson’s baby lotion onto my scarred arms. The lotion helps scars and cuts to fade quicker. Then I smother my wrists in concealer to cover the worst marks. I lock my clothes away and meet Abi by the side of the pool. She smiles at me and then dives elegantly into the pool. Her taut, tiny body glides elegantly in the air and barely makes a splash as she enters the water. Whilst she’s rising to the top of the water I quickly drop my towel and jump in. My splash obviously a lot larger than her’s. I see the lifeguard raise an eyebrow, I blush in embarrassment. Abi holds onto the side of the pool and with a smirk on her face suggests we time our laps. 10 front crawl, 10 breast stroke and 10 back strokes. The person who completes them all the fastest gets to pay for the after swim hot chocolates. We push off from the side of the pool and start to swim.
Swimming has always been a strong point of mine, like with dance I love how you can just lose yourself in the music and forget about the rest of the world. Abi however had no idea how fast I am. For the most part of our race I’m in the lead but when we get to the back stroke I am struck with a great idea. I swim slower and do each movement as perfect and precise as I can. I refuse to speed up and before I know it Abi is ahead of me. She doesn’t know that back stroke is my fastest stroke, or that I let her win, but I let her revel in teasing me whilst I just shrug and say “hey, I was never too good at back stroke, always been completely crap at it!”
As we climb out of the pool and grab our towels I hear her gasp. I shiver slightly as I realise she has seen my fat and is horrified at it. I turn around to look at her. She grabs my shoulder and says “Tori! You’re so tiny!” I laugh at her, and wrap my towel around my body tighter, I wrap my wrists up as well to cover them the best I can so she can’t see what I covered with no washed off makeup. “As if, I make an elephant look thin!” I say as we walk into the changing rooms. She rolls her eyes and walks into the showers, not wanting her to see any more of my huge body I don’t shower and instead go straight to getting changed. I pull my skinny jeans on with great difficulty; my still damp skin makes them hard to pull on as well as my fat. I pull on a vest top and then my oversized sweater which hangs off one shoulder. I carry my shoes in my hands as I go over the mirrors and hairdryers. I don’t bother with drying my hair, it will take too long. Instead I just whip my hair up into a damp messy bun. I re-apply the make-up to my arms and face and then slide my boots on. Whilst I wait for Abi to finish getting ready I scroll through the thinspo I keep on my phone. Pictures of gorgeous thin girls with motivational quotes superimposed on top of them fill my eyes during the time it takes Abi to make herself presentable.
As we walk to the upstairs café which looks over the pool I cringe slightly. The thought of people up in this café watching my fat body swim disgusts me. We walk up to the counter where Abi reminds me that I’m paying since I lost the race. I groan on the outside but inside I beam. She walks over to the toilets whilst I order her a hot chocolate, large with extra marshmallows and cream. She needs to be fattened up. I order myself a diet coke but an empty take away cup as well. The orders are processed quickly luckily so whilst Abi is gone I pour my diet coke into the empty takeaway cup. She will never suspect that we are drinking different things.
I hand her her drink and she smiles,
“Do you want to go to maccy d’s and get a burger?” she says as we walk out of the café. We never spend very long in there if it’s after school time. I cringe.
“No!” I squeal, she looks at my awkwardly.
“Tori, you are eating aren’t you. I mean, I’ve noticed that you’ve lost a lot of weight, you’re almost skeletal,” she goes on about my weight for the next few minutes. I force out a laugh.
“Aha I never stop eating! I just have a fast metabolism that’s all! And you can hardly call my skeletal!”
She raises an eyebrow and spews out crap about how she doesn’t want me to develop bad habits, and how I don’t need to lose weight because I’m perfect the way I am. I roll my eyes.
“Honestly, I don’t have weight issues. I just don’t like McDonalds after we watched supersize me in biology last time! It’s put me off McDonalds for life!” She smiles, but looks unconvinced.
“Let’s go anyway, I’m craving a burger!” she says, I cringe but force a smile,
“Alright, but you can’t expect me to eat their disgusting processed meat. I’ll just have one of their salads.” She agrees reluctantly. All I can hope is that she doesn’t force me to eat anything more calorific this evening.
