The China Doll Chronicles ✔

27. Fly, Captain Thunder Thighs (II)

Once I managed to get on stage, grabbing the microphone from Stacey, I realized my speech had flown completely from my head. But maybe it was for the best. I just had to speak from the heart, right? And right now my heart, pumping as madly as it was, had more than enough to say.

"Creating animation--or any form of art--is a long, grueling process," I began. "Sometimes it can feel lonely. And sometimes you mess up. And you might not know what you're doing." I looked over at my club members, who were nodding frantically. "You hear voices inside your head--maybe outside, too--telling you to give up. That you're not good enough." 

Not good enough, Amy. My words conjured an image of Dad in my head. I did my best to shut him out. Dad's negativity was the last thing I needed on my mind right now.

"And I think--I'm not sure, because I've never been a superhero--but I think superheroes would feel the same way. And as for a fat superhero? Well, people'll think that's an oxymoron right there." Appreciative laughter. Good. At least some of them had senses of humor. "That's what inspired me--us--to create "Captain Thunder Thighs". To remind people that they're capable of more than what society says they can do." I swallowed, hoping I'd made sense, because I couldn't remember what kind of babbled nonsense had just left my lips. "Um."

My voice faltered. I'd just caught sight of something--someone--that I hadn't expected to see here, not in a million years. Sitting in the middle of the crowd. Expression unreadable.

I blinked. Once, twice. It wasn't a figure of my imagination. It was my father. My real father, wedged between Mom and Grandma. Why was my family here? Why was Dad here?

Mouth dry, I suddenly became aware of how long the silence had stretched on. Too long. From stage left, Stacey frantically motioned for me to cut. "Uh," I stammered, "Th-that's all. Please enjoy "Captain Thunder Thighs"."

Applause followed me off the stage. I fast-walked down the steps and to the very back, where everyone else was sitting. Ruby made a comment about my tongue-tied-ness, but I couldn't even process it. I was too rattled. Too confused.

Once I reached him, I resisted the urge to haul Kevin up by his T-shirt. Pinned him with my most grotesque, threatening glare instead. "Did you know they were coming?"

He had the nerve to look thoroughly confused. "Who?"

"Your family," I hissed. "You know. The mother, grandmother, baby--and the baby's father, who I am not related to, and who also acts like a baby at times!"

"They're here?" Kevin's saucer-wide eyes and dumbstruck expression looked real enough to me. "Amy, I swear I didn't know. What're they doing here?"

"Preparing to make fun of me?" I said bitterly. Before I could grill Kevin more, something sharp poked me in the arm. "Ow!"

"Will you be quiet and pay attention? The best film in the whole festival is playing," Carter hissed at me. He chewed at his tub of popcorn angrily, all but gnashing his teeth.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a deep breath. This wasn't the time to be getting upset. Important things were happening. "Captain Thunder Thighs" was fighting crime and body image negativity, all in the same scene. I sat back and tried to relish seeing our animations on the big screen. The explosions. The actions sequences. The close-combat fighting. Though short, it was a video worthy of Marvel, if I might say so myself.

"Wow," Grant said as the credits rolled. "Now that I'm getting a good look, those thighs really are thunderous."

I tried to smile, but it probably came out more like a grimace of pain. My mind was far from the video now.