Who Are You Calling Fat?

Chapter Three - Stop Looking So Nice, You'll Make Me Puma Pants

So Are All Jocks This Cute And Sad And Emotional? - 8:30 AM

So Jean and I are supposed to be Math in five minutes, but we lose track of time, chatting away about how we are both guiltily obsessed with Pretty Little Liars, which as you can probably guess, led to a full conversation on which Liar is our favorite.

"Aria is WAY better than Emily," starts Jean, wagging her finger at me.

"Nope, I'mma Fielder for life," I retort, "Aria is a bit too innoc-"

"Don't you dare!" hisses Jean, too protective of a non-real character.

As we pathetically argue away on our way to class, a ball suddenly whizzes out of nowhere, hitting me square in the stomach. The pain is sends me making a queer facial expression- like squashed cat face and hyperactive fan girl.

"Tori, you 'kay?" asks Jean worriedly.

"I'm fine," I announce loudly, rubbing my belly. "Now, who's the nutter that threw this unfortunate ball in my direction?"

"Throw it over here!"

I look in the direction of the voice and see a gang of boy-athletes waving at me frantically. Huh.

I walk over to them, holding the ball. I really want to join their game, but I know better than to skip Math class.

"Here," I kick the ball, not in their direction, but straight into the goal, which is about... well, really far away. I smile at my accomplishment, and one of the boys, the captain, I presume, walks over. Jean materializes next to me, and puts a sisterly hand over my shoulder. Cute.

The captain has really sharp features, like jawlines, and cheekbones sharp enough to chop through sausage. Clear brown eyes and brown hair. Puma everything and Nike shoes.

Woah.

"You are surprisingly good," he says absent-mindedly running a hand through his hair. "I just thought I should introduce myself, Ace Brendon, at your service."

"Victoria Whites, at yours."

There is quite a bit of staring, for who could ever learn to talk to a beast? Wait, what? No. Ace is the prince in this scenario and I'm the beast, curvy and wonderful and less hairier.

"So, Tori and I should get going," says Jean, pulling me away gently. Ace looks surprised. I wonder why. Jean clearly wants to be anywhere but here, and Ace doesn't seem to be smart enough to understand that.

"Jean. Hey. Are you still considering? We still want you in this," Ace asks, genuinely asking Jean about what I have absolutely no cl- wait, some clue about.

"We'll talk bout this later, Brendon. I have Math class to go to."

"Of course, just letting you know we still want you on the team-" Of course "and that we have a big game next Friday. Tryouts are still on this afternoon. But your talent is ama-"

"Later. See you around, Ace," says Jean pulling me by the arm towards class. I turn and wave at Ace, only to see that he looks crestfallen. He waves back at me sadly and goes back to very important things, like throwing a ball, for instance.

When we enter a zone full of less-gawking stare, I slap Jean's arm and ask her, "Jean, you clearly have talent. Why aren't you going for tryouts? And it seems to me, that you were previously a team member. Whatever happened?"

She looks uncomfortable. Quite clearly. How splendid.

"Listen Tori, not everyone is comfortable and all la-dee-da about having a gender fluid on the team. I think it's stupid and sensible at the same time. I mean, it won't be fair for the other girl athletes that want their own team, so I just fee-"