Young Annabelle
Authors: Sarah Tork
Tags: #fat, #high school, #diet, #teenager, #first kiss, #crush, #overweight, #weightloss, #pressure
Table of
Contents
Young Annabelle
(Y.A, #1)
By
Sarah Tork
Other eBooks by
Sarah Tork
Always Wanted
(Xander Barns, #1)
Wanted Always
(Xander Barns, #2)
Young Annabelle
(Y.A, #1)
By: Sarah Tork
Smashwords
Edition
Copyright ©2013
Sarah Tork
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fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any
place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The
characters and story lines are created from the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,
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Editor:
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Friday September
7
th
2012
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Oh you know, the usual things. Multiple
personalities, homicidal daydreaming, cross-dressing as our evil
History teacher… You know, the normal everyday stuff.” Jenna, my
best friend, sighed as she lay comfortably on her bed.
Since her fat ass greedily occupied the
entire bed, I was forced to sit on her green shag carpet with my
back against her twin-sized bed frame. I leaned my head onto her
mattress and twisted it so she could see me. I narrowed my eyes at
her as she gave me an innocent ‘What?’ look.
“Screw you! You’re worse than I am,” I told
her, lifting my head to stare at her bedroom door.
“Anna?” Her voice suddenly changed from
humorous to concerned.
We’d come to her house right after school
because of what had happened.
We’d been dancing around the subject since
we’d arrived. It was good while it lasted. I took a long, deep
breath as I savored the last bit of ignorance I was allowed. Jenna
was going to bring up what happened at school today, no matter
what. I had no problem pretending it didn’t happen.
Like she’d let that happen!
“Yeah?” I responded quietly, continuing to
stare straight ahead.
“You okay?”
Was I okay?
I searched my body to see where I was
emotionally. There was nothing. My entire body felt as if both my
heart and brain had checked out on purpose, all so that I wouldn’t
fall over and cry like a blubbering idiot whose soul was just
crushed.
“I’m not really feeling anything,” I
replied.
“You’re feeling numb, aren’t you? I’d be a
total mess if that happened to me. I’d feel humiliated and
disrespected,” she rambled dramatically, still gazing at her
ceiling.
I leaned my head back down onto her mattress
and joined her in examining the ceiling.
Jenna’s ceiling was something amazing. Last
year her parents let her paint her room any way she wanted. The
first thing she painted was a glow amidst a dark sky, with a
million stars and comets scattered around. I’d been over for plenty
of sleepovers since then. Adding chill music, the shadow of night,
and the peace of mind we both shared; those were some good
nights.
I stared up at the collection of stars and
wished the sun away so that we could draw the blinds, shut the
lights off, and allow our minds to transport us across the sky that
we were now only staring at.
I’d take
fake sky either way.
“You ready to talk about it?” Jenna
whispered.
I took a long gulp, cleared my throat,
then slowly exhaled the strangling air as I prepared to
speak.
“
What’s there to talk about? I was
rejected, again! Simple!” My frustration exploded. Her constant
nagging to talk about it got the best of me. I didn’t want to talk
about this shit. I didn't want to remember it. I wanted to forget
it ever happened. And I couldn't do that if she kept freaking
bringing it up every two seconds.
“
It was not
simple!
” she snapped
back, shuffling about on the bedspread, trying to contain her own
anger about the whole situation. Her hostility, funnily
enough, tugged at my heartstrings.
That’s
what good friends are for; you feel pain, they feel
pain.
I shook my head thinking about
that.
I
didn’t want
her to feel bad; it wasn’t her problem.
“Jenna, please, just forget whatever you saw
earlier, okay?” I pleaded.
Jenna suddenly jerked herself up into a
sitting position, her leg hitting the side of my head.
“Hey watch it!” I yelped in pain.
“No! I will not forget anything. That douche
could have told you ‘no’ in a more respectful way, he didn't have
to humiliate you in front of everyone!” she yelled as she slammed
her fists into her bed.
“
Well it is what it is,” I said lifelessly.
“And technically the only person he humiliated me in front of was
you.” This
conversation
was
absorbing the last ounces of life I had left in me.
“
Oh my god, who the hell does James Lassles
think he is! That ass douche! Just wait ’til school on Monday, I'm
going to give him a piece of my mind
in front of everyone!
” she declared even louder.
I looked behind me and her arms were
straight up, pointing at the sky.
“Jenna! Calm down!” I ordered. I hoped to God
that she wouldn’t do anything to make me feel even worse. “The
feelings, the stupid situation, it’ll all be over by Monday. You
don’t need to show anyone anything.”
“Yeah, okay, we’ll see,” she said a touch
quieter.
My stomach knotted. I knew this girl better
than she knew herself.
I looked at her and was gifted with another
innocent ‘What?’ face. I shook my head, desperately trying to
enforce some ground control in this matter, since it was about me.
But she just shrugged and lay back down.
Great, just great.
With Jenna, ‘
we'll
see
’
meant ‘that’s
for damn sure.’ Now, Monday would definitely be a day I wouldn’t be
looking forward to – at all.
Hmmm,
maybe suddenly I’ll be infected with a virus and have to stay home
on Monday? Or a rash! Nobody wants you around if you've got a rash.
But, dammit, I don't know what poison ivy looks like.
How
else am I going to get a rash?
*****
Monday appeared in a blink of an eye. I awoke
with a blistering headache. I pulled back my red plaid covers and
swung my legs out of bed. A jolt surged through me as my feet hit
the cold, wooden floor; it brought me back to Earth, reminding me
that the day could go one of two ways, both of which were up to
Jenna. With the modicum of morning strength I possessed, I pushed
up off my bed and headed straight for the bathroom across the hall
where my scale was patiently awaiting me.
Five minutes later…
“ANNABELLE!”
I dropped my toothbrush back into its holder
and went to the doorway, bypassing the mean machine, its numbered
face glaring up at me from the floor.
“I’m not ready, Mom!” I yelled down the
hallway before returning to my room.
“You’re going to be late! Hurry!” I heard her
yell creep up the hallway and through my door.
She wants her daily number for that stupid
book she carries around!
I stood in front of my floor-length mirror
and examined how my red pajamas with the purple hearts looked on my
body. They were old and not my size. My mother had bought them over
a year ago in the hopes that they’d fit one day. I wasn’t there
yet, much to her disappointment.
Just a little tight around the hips.
“Yeah, whatever. It is what it is,” I
declared to my reflection in a hushed tone.
I turned around and opened up my closet.
Today was definitely not the day to look like shit. Determined to
find an amazing outfit, I sorted through my selection and pulled
multiple things out. I laid them out on my bed and took a step back
to observe. I had to make the right decision.
I picked up my dark blue skinny jeans and the
tight red-and-black vertical striped shirt that fell just over my
hips. I quickly changed then returned to the mirror for
examination.
Not
bad.
I scooped up the creamy white
zippered
hoodie
and slipped
it on. There was no way Mom would let me walk out of the
house in a shirt as tight as the one I was wearing.
It’s a
little slutty, wouldn’t you rather look like a
lady?
I
mimicked
Mom’s voice in my head as I grabbed my backpack and hoisted it onto
my right shoulder, shutting my bedroom door behind
me.
Yeah
right. It has nothing to do with looking slutty!
I thought, descending the
stairs to join the rest of my family for
breakfast.
Half an hour later I left the house. The
weather hadn’t been too hot that morning; usually early mornings
here weren’t that bad. But
‘
that
bad
’
didn’t
last the entire trip to school and I had to unzip my white sweater
to let my skin breathe a little.
I couldn’t show up to school looking like a
sweaty pig.
I lived with my family in Orlando,
Florida, where it was scorchingly hot every day except when it
poured rain. I walked three miles to school, my parents only
willing to drive me when it rained. Driving me to school was not
something my parents wanted to do; even when it rained they did it
under
duress.
I enjoyed walking though. It gave me time to
think while burning off the calories from breakfast. Jenna was
model-skinny; she didn’t need to burn calories so her parents
willingly drove her everywhere. My parents had been getting
increasingly frustrated if I asked to be driven anywhere that
wasn’t extremely far away. So I didn’t ask.
Every single day for the past few months, my
parents would ask me how many calories I’ve burnt. This ritual
usually took place before dinner and, depending on the number from
my calorie counting watch, it would determine the types of glances
I would have to endure during dinner. If the number was high
enough, I wouldn’t have to worry too much about their angry looks
when I scooped an extra inch of rice on my plate – I’d earned it.
If the number wasn’t up to their expectations, then I had better
take half the amount of food I normally would. I had to make up for
it somehow and, in my parents’ eyes, less food on my plate was
how.
