More than Big Boned

1. Just Chubby

Some people may say I'm fat or pudgy, while others say I'm going through a 'big' phase. Some say I'm curvy or I'm a pig and others say I'm big boned.

Like my parents.

My mum and dad have been telling me from day zero that I am big boned. Nothing else. I'm not fat, I'm not pudgy, I'm not a pig. Oh trust me, that's not all I'm not. I'm not skinny, I'm not pretty, I'm not smart, and I certainly am not likable.

Now, I like to classify myself as 'in between'. In between meaning not fat but not skinny. In between meaning not pretty but not completely ugly. In between meaning not smart but not dim.

So, now you're probably wondering what do you look like then if you're in between everything?

Well, let me tell you.

I have long, straight brown hair that I want to get cut because it's messy as hell some days. My eyes are a dark blue, always hidden behind a pair of glasses, and they and my eyebrows are my favourite part of me. My nose turns up slightly but is rather small and thin, very unlike the rest of me.

And speaking of the rest of me, I know I'm not fat. I'm chubby. My thighs, the rest of my legs, and my butt are chubby; they're the fattest part of me. My chest is... well, an in-between size and my arms are also chubby. My hands and wrists are very feminine somehow and skinny, so I wear two or three rings and a bracelet. I don't have a really noticeable double chin unless I press my face back into my neck or lie down on my back. Isn't that normal for everyone?

Of course, I am in no way the fattest person on the earth - I'm not even that fat - but I'm definitely the fattest girl in school.

Now, school. Who even likes it? I know I don't. All the girls at my school, Creekwood High, are skinny and tanned and blonde (not all of them are actually blonde but hey, everyone has their moments). Then I'm here; brunette and fat and pasty skinned. And oh, it's such a crime to be fat if you're a girl, but if you're a guy it's a different story. As it is for everything.

Yes, there are some fat guys at school, some not as fat as others. All the girls just think it's 'bulk' or 'muscle' or something. The guys know it's not muscle and that it's something else but they still accept the boys cause they're just as dumb headed as the muscular ones.

I know... my school is messed up. However, my old friend Tiffany, (skinny, olive coloured and black haired) who moved schools three years ago, texts me about her school all the time, and the skinny, tanned blondes also have problems. With fat girls. But also more concerning problems. With their brains.

This year, I'm in my last year. Am I excited? Yes, I am. Soon enough, I'll be out of this house, in a different town, I'll hopefully find a boyfriend, and have a new job that I enjoy.

At the moment, I work at KFC. I mean, typical for a fat girl, right? No - I think. I work at KFC because my dad's friend owns the place and dad wouldn't let me get a job elsewhere. I've been working there for three years. I earn good money but, to be honest, we don't need it. Both my parents are doctors and they work really early and really late. For the past year and a bit, I've been able to stay at home completely by myself.

Our house is huge. It's pretty much a modern millionaire house. Sometimes when I'm looking out the window in boredom or I'm just contemplating life, I see people look at our house in awe. It's a pretty damn swanky house.

The sound of my stomach rumbling wakes me up. I sit up in my bed and reach for my black glasses. Then I grab my purple water bottle and take a big gulp. I put a hand on my stomach. I can feel the rolls underneath my shirt and I frown slightly to myself. I finally get up and walk over to my desk where my phone is charging. I check the time; six forty, and the battery; ninety per cent.