LOVE Me EXTRA LARGE

Mr. Anonymous

"Eleanor Alexander Gellar! How many times have I told you not to eat that junk food?!" My mom's voice tore through the house like a tornado, her shrill tone forcing me to shrink into myself.

"But Mama, I didn't—" I began, trying to explain, but she cut me off like always.

"Listen, young woman," she snapped, rubbing her temples as if I were the source of all her headaches. "This is the last time you're touching anything like that. Do you ever think about how I feel when I take you out in public? You barely take after me in looks. And your body... well, we won't even go there." She shook her head, the disappointment weighing heavier than the words she left unsaid. "When will you be more like me, Eleanor? I'm worried about your reputation. You have no idea how people see you, do you?"

Each word was a slap, but what stung the most was the truth behind it. She was embarrassed by me. Her own daughter. My straight A's, my accomplishments in school—they didn't matter. Not when I was 'Extra-Large Eleanor.' All anyone cared about was appearances.

She sighed dramatically, her hand flying to her forehead in frustration. "Now, go to your room. I don't want to see you for a while. I'm taking your sister to a beauty pageant for the next three weeks. You'll be home alone. Hopefully, that gives you time to reflect on yourself." And with that, she walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway, hollow.

I let out a ragged breath, my hands shaking. Tears welled up before I could even fight them back. "Why?" I whispered, but my voice cracked as the dam broke, sobs racking my body. My mother's disappointment was too much, but the absence of my father made it unbearable.
I missed him. God, I missed him so much.

After his death, everything had fallen apart. He never cared about my weight, never saw me as anything less than perfect. He called me Lucky—said I was his charm, that the day I was born, his company hit record profits. His pride in me had been unshakable. But he was gone now, and all I had left was a photo of us on my nightstand.

"Why did you leave me, Dad?" I sobbed, clutching the picture to my chest, my tears blurring his familiar smile. "Do you hate me too? For being 'El the Elephant'?" The words stung as they left my mouth, a mirror of the cruelty I faced every day.

A soft knock came at my door, pulling me from my spiral. "El, darling... Are you alright in there?" It was Maria, the eldest maid, her voice gentle and full of concern.
I wiped at my eyes hurriedly. "Yeah... I'm fine, Maria," I called back, forcing my voice to sound steady.

"If you need anything, I'm here," she said softly, her footsteps retreating down the hall.
I sniffled and put the picture back on the nightstand. I couldn't fall apart now. I had an AP test tomorrow, and studying was my only escape. But as I rifled through my bag, panic hit me like a truck. The book. The notebook I wrote my feelings in—it wasn't there.

"Oh, no," I muttered, my heart racing. "Oh no, no, no." It was still at school. In the library.

Without thinking, I grabbed my car keys and coat, rushing out the door. My mind spiraled, praying that no one had seen it, especially the last page.

As I sped through the dark streets toward school, my thoughts raced with the worst possibilities. What if someone read it? What if they showed it to the whole school? What if my private thoughts became the next cruel joke?

Finally, I arrived at the school and rushed toward the library, not even caring that it was nearly midnight. In my haste, I wasn't watching where I was going, and I collided headfirst into something—someone.

"Ouch..." I winced, clutching my forehead, but my heart sank when I heard that unmistakable, deep voice.

"It's the second time today, Gellar," Zachary Kingston said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I looked up, my face heating as I locked eyes with those striking blue ones again. There he stood, flanked by Caleb, Dylan, Aiden, and, of course, Levi. They all looked like they belonged on a magazine cover, but my focus stayed on Zach.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, an almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips, before he and his friends walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the empty hall. Levi, though, glanced back, giving me a small smile that I couldn't quite decipher.

I shook my head, forcing my mind back to the task at hand. I had bigger problems than Zach Kingston's smirk.

Mrs. Renolds, the librarian, appeared at the doorway, her gentle face lighting up when she saw me. "Oh, Eleanor, dear, what are you doing here so late?"

"I... I left something," I stammered. "I need to grab it quickly."

She smiled kindly. "Of course. Just hurry, the library's closing soon." I raced inside and went straight to the spot where I'd left my notebook. Relief washed over me as I saw it still sitting there, untouched. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I whispered, clutching the notebook to my chest.

After thanking Mrs. Renolds and helping her close up, I sped back home. My heart only calmed once I was back in my room, notebook in hand. I had dodged a bullet. Or so I thought.

It wasn't until I sat at my desk later that night, flipping through the pages, that I saw it. On the last page, the one with my most vulnerable thoughts—there was a sticky note.

My heart stopped.

With trembling hands, I pulled the note free, reading the words carefully.

---
Dear Ms. Anonymous,I'm really sorry for invading your privacy, but I found your notebook in the library. To figure out whose it was, I looked inside. I didn't mean any harm.I promise to keep what I read to myself.But I want to say... I don't know who you are, but I think we're in the same AP class. After reading your words, I just went numb. How could anyone feel like that about themselves?Why do you care so much about the outside? What others think? It's all superficial. I believe you're beautiful, whether you know it or not.Please, stop letting their opinions define you.It's your life, not theirs.You're enough just as you are.—Mr. Anonymous---

Tears blurred the words as I read them again and again, my chest tightening with an emotion I couldn't name. No one—no one—had ever said anything like that to me. Not Levi. Not my mom.

This was too much. It was overwhelming.

But somehow, it didn't feel bad. It felt... freeing. Like someone, for the first time, had seen me, not just the weight or the flaws.

I wiped my eyes and smiled softly at the note. One thing was certain: 

I had to find Mr. Anonymous.

(EDITED VERSION)