Baby Fat

forty-four

DISCLAIMER: this chapter uses the word "faggot", which is a word I loathe. Please do not think I condone the use of this word as a homophobic slur against gay people or even as a joke. However, it's relevant to the conversation and that is why it is being used. It is only used one time.

For a brief moment that morning, Bradley had the glorious chance to forget that he had to leave France. It was right when he woke up, turned over to look at his stunning view of the city that he fell in love with, and yawned. For that second, all he knew was that this was the closest he had been to happy in a long while. But, when he sat up it dawned on him that his mother booked him a ticket home.

Now, Bradley's standing in the airport in Detroit, Michigan with a flurry of people buzzing around him like flies. With a backpack slung on one shoulder, Bradley sighs and looks for the driver with a sign that says "Johnson".

After a few moments of searching, Bradley finds the driver who recognizes him. They exchange smiles before they go to luggage claim. They have to fight for a spot. Eventually, Bradley's six suitcases come around, and they snatch each and every one of them.

Bradley follows his driver and another man he doesn't recognize, both of them carrying three of his bags. They lead him to the sleek black car in the parking lot. The driver packs up Bradley's bags in the trunk before starting off on the three hour drive to Bradley's hometown.

Looking out the window, Bradley shoots his mother a quick text about getting to the airport, and then his father about coming home. He's not really sure where his father is anymore. He stopped keeping tabs on him the minute he left for France. It was mutual, Graham stopped calling too.

In France, Bradley managed to forget all his responsibilities besides school where he was constantly being emailed about assignments. But, he forgot about Corrie, Leo, Hannah, and every one else. He focused on himself, on finding the best dieting pills. He focused on his writing for a little bit. He focused on getting his mother to somehow love him by doing choreography.

"Mr. Johnson," the driver makes eye contact with Bradley in the review mirror, "we will be arriving at your house in one hour."

"Thank you," Bradley gives him a toothless smile. He looks down at his agile fingers. They've gotten so skinny that his rings slip off of them. The same can go for his body. His old clothes don't fit right anymore, so much that even his mother took notice and offered to go clothes shopping with him in Paris during her off day. That was one of the best days he's ever had with her since he was a child.

After awhile, he bites his lip thinking about who he's going to go see first.

On one hand, he basically abandoned Corrie, who didn't get so much as a goodbye note. Bradley feels bad, but he doesn't know if he feels bad enough to somehow muster up the courage to see Corrie. At that point, Bradley didn't know how to be Corrie's friend, not anymore.

On the other, Bradley rejected Leo and then split. Nobody got their goodbye, but Leo got his fuck you much more upfront than anyone else.

Everyone else was left to wonder what the hell happened to Bradley Johnson. When his Instagram feed was wiped clean, Devon texted him. Bradley didn't respond. When his all his Snapchat streaks were lost, Hannah called him. And when everything else was deleted, he didn't get any calls or texts or emails.

The most surprising thing had to be that no one really gave a shit what happened to him. Some people called once or twice, but after that they gave up. Maybe they thought he was taking a social media cleanse, or some shit like that. Him not showing up should've set bright red alarms off in their heads, like it did the teachers. Bradley just felt like maybe they should've given more craps. But, how the fuck would they give a shit about him if he didn't give a shit about them?