A New Reflection

13. Debate

In biology the following Monday, I'm bursting to spill all my secrets to my lab partners. If they were to ask me, I almost think the truth about my crush on Alex might explode out of me. The reality, however, is there's no way I would ever lose control enough to let that happen.

The Sacramento weather has grown more searing with each passing day, and today I'm wearing the skirt my mom bought me a few weeks back, along with a simple sage green top. My long hair is down, hanging loose and wavy around my shoulders.

"Oh my God, you look so cute," Sydney tells me, touching my arm for an instant in a gentle gesture of affection, or approval. My mind flashes to the times Alex has tapped my arm in this exact manner, and I'm forced to admit that there was probably no special meaning behind his touches. He's never caressed me or lingered.

But, the hug... and his legs against mine... and the fact that he visited me at my house with food on Saturday...

"Nati always has the cutest style!" exclaims Britney. Her words take me aback; everyone at this school dresses more stylishly than I do. I grimace recalling what I wore to my first day of high school freshman year. Overall shorts—but not the cool kind other teens pull off. I'm quite certain I looked either like an elementary schooler, or a hay-chewing hick.

"Thanks," I mumble.

"That skirt's perfect on you," Britney continues. "You're lucky, you're so nice and skinny."

I cringe and rejoice on the inside, for multiple reasons. Because I've internalized society's messages about the value of being thin, my instinct still reacts with pleasure anytime someone points out my slender body. The thing is, I was a chubby kid all the way through seventh grade. Then, through a combination of growth spurts and sports, I slimmed down overnight as if I had drank a magic potion. It wasn't something I did, or earned, or changed; it just happened. In fact, I have always eaten—and still eat—absurd amounts of food on the daily.

The irony is, no one—not one time in eight years of school—ever mocked me or even mentioned my weight. Yet, the second I lost my puppy fat, people began commenting incessantly.

"Don't you eat?"

"You're so skinny!"

The majority of the commentary came from my basketball coaches. My mom was irate when she found out the coaches were scrutinizing my weight, and she straight-up told them to knock it off. It's fascinating how calling someone fat is inappropriate, but telling a person they are too skinny is acceptable.

An alarming number of girls at my school suffer from eating disorders, which is another reason I hate to hear students comparing their bodies to other people's.

"I wish I had your legs," continues Britney.

My cheeks burn as my throat clamps shut in discomfort; I wish I could articulate to Brit that she is perfect and beautiful just as she is, but the words won't flow. I would tell her how much I appreciate her quirky, free personality, which makes this one hour of my school experience each day feel easy-breezy instead of intimidating.

"Alright, everyone, settle down," Mrs. Y instructs us. "Let's get started with today's study guide. Tomorrow you'll take a unit test on body systems."

Britney groans next to me without abandoning her sunny facial expression. She works hard in class but struggles with the material.

During work time, Sydney, Britney and Gabriel look to me each time they have a question on the study guide, which occurs every three minutes or so. I've always preferred working independently, but I don't mind helping them; in fact, today I enjoy it.