MAKE OVER

CHAPTER FOUR

With the success of the pink shirt last week, I took things a step further and wore something that I've not worn to school since the fifth grade...shorts.

Ever since Karla Hernandez pointed out how my thighs jiggled like her auntie's cherry-banana Jell-O, I was too embarrassed to show my legs. But I figured if a shirt that hugged my middle was a success, maybe the student body wouldn't notice my dimpled thighs. It has gone well other than the material inching up as my legs rubbed together.

Before lunch, I rush into the girls' room. As soon as I'm inside, my hands dart to the hem of my shorts, tugging the fabric down. 

"Real classy, Maddie," says a nasally voice accompanied by cackles.

I squeeze my eyes shut and release a long breath. "Crap," I whisper, before meeting the judgmental stares of Sierra and her snobby friends.

Grace and Chelsea each have a hand resting on a cocked hip and wear a sneer on their glossed lips.

"You should wear clothes that fit and cover up parts that disgust the rest of us. I know that doesn't leave you many options," Grace says.

Chelsea laughs and says, "Yeah, cover your face, Fatty."

I squeeze my eyes shut as my cheeks heats with anger and embarrassment. Just ignore them, they just want you to react. No! Don't let them get away with it; stand up for yourself. "Don't you three have anything better to do with your time," I croak, chastising myself for sounding so weak. 

Chelsea's mouth drops and she looks between Sierra and Grace before saying, "Excuse me, who do you think you—"

A spark of energy zips through me, and my mouth takes full control. "Who do I think I am? I'm a human being, Chelsea. I'm an overweight human being, I may have about sixty pounds on you, but I am still a human being. You've never had the pleasure of your thighs rubbing together; I see you've worked really hard on your thigh gap," I say, gesturing at the short skirt she wears. "But it's not comfortable when your shorts ride up, so yeah, I came into the bathroom to tug them down. What does it matter to you? Why would you concern yourself with anything I do? You're all far too sophisticated and beautiful for me; you've made that clear for the past three years. So why don't you do us all a favor and get out of my face." I step aside. "I'll let you guys go first; I don't think we can all fit through the door together."

Stunned into silence, Sierra starts for the door and glares at Chelsea and Grace, who flip their hair and scoff as they flounce away.

The toilet in the far stall flushes followed by a slow clap. The door opens and a tall slender girl with wild golden hair and hip-hugging jeans exits. "Bravo, it's about time someone stood up to those three. They think they're sharing little secrets with their snide remarks and judgy eyes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Don't," she says, turning on the sink and washing her hands. "Don't apologize for sticking up for yourself."

My shoulders slump and I step up to the sink next to her and turn on the faucet.

The girl yanks the lever for the paper towels only to learn the dispenser is empty, so she wipes her palms on her jeans instead before holding her hand out to me. "I'm Sunny."

I glance at her hand and then down at mine. It has been months since I've touched a stranger, and in the time I come from, we look down on handshakes. "Maddie," I say, placing my hand in hers with a wet smack. I cringe, pulling it away to rub my wet palm to my shorts. "Sorry."

"I like you, Maddie. Do you know the park over on Dover?"

"Yes."

"I live on the street behind that; the house with all the wind chimes on the front. I'm having a few girls over to swim on Saturday, and you're invited."

"I—I don't—"

"Don't say you don't swim. It's Tennessee. It's hotter than the Devil's armpits here; everyone swims." She takes my phone from my pocket and holds it up to my face to unlock it. "I expect a call if you're going to be late; otherwise, I'll see you at one." When she finishes typing in her number, she hands me my iPhone back and walks out of the restroom.

I stare at the door, slip my phone back in the pocket, and raise my eyebrows. I have to admit that I felt pretty freaking amazing, and it was nice for someone besides Matthew to invite me to hang out. However, there is no way I am going to go, but it was still nice to be thought of.

When I leave the bathroom, I hold my head just a little higher than before, and when my shorts ride up my thighs again, I don't pay so much attention to it; I just keep walking.