This Is England » Freddie Highmore

19.

WE WALKED INTO AN OLD resturaunt, the atmosphere quite soothing as we were led to our table. I stared out the window; admiring the ocean view of England.

"This is pretty fancy," I said as I faced Freddie; who was browsing the menu. He looked up and gave me a warm smile. "Do you take all of your girl toys here?" I smirked.

He laughed. "Only the beautiful ones," he held onto my hand; rubbing my skin with his larger thumb. "and you are beautiful."

We sat in silence; waiting for our waiter or waitress to arrive with an introduction. Freddie smacked his lips, then sighed.

"I'll be right back," he then brought himself up and towards the restrooms, leaving me to browse the menu for myself.

Just as I had bit my lip at the photo of chocolate, I heard snickering occur from the booth behind me. I then felt a pang at my chest, my insecurities arising.

"Hey fatty, you need to go to the fuckin' gym," the male with a flannel shirt choked out. "otherwise you'll cause that boyfriend of yours to walk away from you."

Before I knew it, tears began to stream down my face as I felt my stomach. It felt skinny, but it wasn't skinny enough. I had to have no ounce of fat visible from underneath my clothing.

Back in New York, I was considered the fat kid; the kid everyone pried away from during lunch. I started to cut, but once that didn't work, I began to eat less and less.

"Hey fatass, why don't you o---" before I could turn around, Freddie had pinned him against the wall; the rest of the people eating had gasped in shock.

"What did you say to her you little shit?" He gripped onto his shirt tighter. The man being tortured said nothing; he only bit his lip.

"The next time I hear you calling her fat, I will kick your ass. Maybe you should become straight; maybe that will teach you some fucking manners." He let go of the man in the flannel shirt, and turned to me; grabbing my hand as we then left the shocked restaurant.

-

"Why did you do that for me?" I asked Freddie once we drove. "I could have defended myself."

"Really? Because it didn't seem like it, babe." he took a hold on my hand. "Those queers don't know you, but yet they had the adassity to call you fat----which you're not."

"Yeah I am!" I wiped my tears away. "You don't see it but I am, Freddie. I am!"

"Damn it!" he stopped the car. He turned to me, cupping my face harshly closer to his; his breathing hitched.

"Listen to me," he growled. "you are not fat. You're perfect. You are fucking perfect. I never want to hear you say you're overweight, because to me, you're fucking beautiful."

His voice shook, then he kissed my head, rubbing my shoulder with his hand. He then started the car; leaving utter silence to linger in the air.

....