Operation Skinny ✔️

CHAPTER 9: SEEN FOR THE FIRST TIME

Eventually he had fallen asleep, but I'd laid awake, thinking of his words. I like you for who you are. He'd said. I'd looked over at the soup and contemplated drinking a little bit to make him happy. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Jeez, I'm such an idiot." I said to myself, listening to the water pour from the shower head and sting every spot it could touch. I wondered if I had depression. I'd had a friend at my old school tell me that before she was diagnosed with depression, she would cry in a hot shower because the heat was meant to feel like a replacement hug.

I took a deep breath as my timer finally went off and I rinsed the conditioner out, watching more clumps of hair fall out.

"Phoebe! Your friend from the ski trip is here!" I heard mom shout from outside the shower. I realized, in that moment, that she had let him in. I hadn't actually spoken to Ji-ho, at least aside from this afternoon at school, since the ski-trip four weeks ago.

I wondered if his family hated me now for ruining their trip and wasting their time. I'd made Ji-ho drive me home on the first actual day, when the skiing would commence, and he had to waste more gas driving himself back.

"Tell him to leave!" I shouted back at mom from the bathroom, grabbing my towel and drying myself off. I got no response so I quickly ran out of the bathroom and rushed into my room.

"Phoebe." Ji-ho was sitting on my bed as I screamed, accidentally dropping my towel as he quickly turned to look away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't see anything." He said.

I was angry at my mother. The woman wouldn't let me get out of the house, but she'd let a boy into my room, unchaperoned. I'd definitively give her a piece of my mind later.

"Why are you here?!" I growled, quickly covering up my lady-bits and holding the towel close to my chest. I was embarrassed that he'd seen my fat arms shake and think I was a whale. "And in my room!?"

"I'm sorry, I can wait outside so you can get dressed." He said. I pursed my lips, then frowned.

"You can leave." I responded, "I already told you Kyle, I don't want to be friends with you anymore."

If he was at all hurt that I'd used the name that Jamison called him, he didn't show it. Instead, he stood up and walked toward me.

"The door is that way," I stuttered, tightening my grip on my towel as he approached.

"What can I do..." he asked, placing my wet hair behind my ear. I bit my lip, my heart was suddenly racing and I had a stammer in my step, "to get you to forgive me? Phoebes, you were my first friend here. You were so kind and helpful... and you're so down to earth. I am really sorry. I made you feel uncomfortable and forced you to drink that soup, so I'm sorry. I really am. I understand what you're going through and I wanted to help. But now... I understand. You don't want help. You need a friend and I want to be there to support you. So please, tell me what I can do."

I wanted to tell him that I wanted time and space, but his proximity made my thoughts and judgements become cloudy. I felt the tears reforming in my eyes; I didn't deserve his kindness or thoughtfulness. I didn't deserve anything from the likes of a man that looked like him. He was out-of-my-league in every aspect of the phrase. I knew the only way to get him to go away for good was to hurt him. Hurt him harder than I'd done before. Because previously, I hadn't done enough.

"Why do you care so much?!" I managed to say before taking a step back and looking at his devilishly handsome face. It suddenly made sense as I bumped against my bookshelf, knocking down a few of my books with my heavy-set footing.