Plus Sized Pretty

Plus Sized Pretty (Chapter 1, Part 1)

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BAM!

Got your attention didn't I? Good, now pay attention to the story that you are about to read. There is this girl, you don't know her. There is a guy, you don't know him either. There are a few condoms involved, but we will get there. Let's back track a little bit, today is March 14th. It's a Saturday. We will journey back to March 8th, the day that James Collier stole my heart.

I was pretty, to say the least. I had a round face, an average looking nose and dark brown eyes. My hair was okay, shoulder length curly black hair. I wish I could say my skin was nice, it wasn't. I had acne problems, and a ton of freckles. I had a small mouth, I liked that part of me the best. My lips were naturally pink and had a slight pucker. I wasn't very tall, 5'3 on a good day.

I sighed and looked at myself in disgust in the full length mirror. Who was I kidding? I was fat. Plain and simple; a pear shaped body. But I was fabulous! He he. I didn't deny it like most other fat people, I didn't call myself 'curvy'. Jennifer Lopez was curvy, Kim Kardashian was curvy. I was neither of them. I was wearing a loose fitting black lacy blouse I bought at Jeans Warehouse over the summer, thank God for their plus size section. Over that I had on a hot pink cardigan, it was also from Jeans Warehouse. Just because I was big doesn't mean I dress like a slob. I had good taste in clothes, when I could find sizes that worked with my body. I struggled to pull on my dark wash jeans, I let out a breath of relief when I got them buttoned and zipped up. I slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and looked myself over in the mirror one last time. "This is going to be a good day, gorgeous." I whispered to reflection and turned away. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and slapped on some mascara and lip stick. Ouch, slapped sounds so violent. I gently applied my make up like the prim and proper lady I was, that's better don't you think?

I threw my book bag over my shoulder and went down stairs to the kitchen. As usual, I was alone. Mom was out doing errands; she was an early riser and liked to do things while the rest of the world, including China, was still sleeping. Dad had gone out early to some business meeting and Alex, my brother, had already left for school. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter. "Good morning, how are you today sweetie?" I said sarcastically to myself, taking a sip and looking around the empty kitchen.

Our house was always clean, mom liked to clean. It "helped to relax her," she once said to me when I questioned why she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the bejesus out of the baseboards. I smirked at the memory and finished my coffee. I put the empty cup in the sink and headed out the door.

On my 16th birthday my parents bought me a car, not a new one, no. It was a classic 1995 Ford Thunderbird and I loved it beyond comprehension. Most kids my age wanted new fancy cars with GPS and all that useless crap. Not me, I've always wanted a car like this one. I got in and revved the engine, it purred, more of a loud clanking, to life and I was on my way to the hell hole I knew as High School. Not that I didn't like school, I did. I just didn't like the people who attended it. I had very few friends and the ones I considered good friends. Well, they were nonexistent.