Fat Girl, No Different

Two ♦

"Look, Cameron, if you're here to just stare at my fucking fats, then I'd suggest you get the hell out of my house."

          I was getting pissed at him. He may think that I haven't been noticing, but each time I lowered my head and started copying down information on the given worksheet, he'd drop his gaze to the flab under my writing arm and stare at it until I straightened back up to stare at him. One out of ten times I'd felt like slapping his face, and eleven out of ten times I felt like exploding. Seemed like he was as annoying as he could actually get. I mean, I'm fat. Like, I fucking get it, okay. You don't have to point my flaws out time and again. Asshole.

         "Okay, fine, I'm sorry, 'kay? I just get distracted easily," he muttered under his breath, shifting his gaze back on the paper uncomfortably. He stared at the white piece of sheet with a lack of emotion. "Um, what does this mean? Like, this reflection question? I mean, we haven't done anything so there isn't anything to reflect upon."

          "Yeah, because someone was too fucking busy staring at my fats," I mumbled to myself, rolling my eyes in irritation. What the hell was his problem? Jesus, fatness must've been a curse to me. It was sickening and stupid, and saddening, and infuriating. One second I was pissed, but the next I was on the verge of crying. Why?

          "Hey!" Cameron barked, slamming his palms down the table, causing me to jump; my fats jumping along, "It's not my fucking problem you resemble a goddamn polar bear that fascinated me!" He shook his head and suddenly turned to me as quick as a lightning strike. Did realization finally hit him, and hit him hard? Because I strongly wish it did.

          "Please just leave," I was shocked at how firm and untamed I sounded. Fuck, I probably even scared him because he was staring at me like, 'Was she seriously not sad about my words?' I was pissed at him, not because of what he'd said to me, but the lack of respect he had towards a being of the same species of him. Who the hell did he think he was? I don't fucking care if he's the school's literally most popular guy ever―as long as he keeps staying as a dick, I'll hate him infinitely. "Just get out of my house."

          He sunk on the chair; back slouching exaggeratedly. He had his lips pursed into a tight line that made his cheeks bulge out a little, and his gaze all the way on the floor. Truth be told, all I wanted to do, but was refraining myself from doing so was to pull him up the chair and drag him to my door before kicking his ass to kick him out of my house. Don't say I'm being mean, but he truly deserves it. Which son of a bitch deserved sympathy? Clearly one of which doesn't include him.

          Aiming the worst of all worst profanities at him in my head, I sat my fat ass back down on the chair and pulled all the papers towards my direction so that I could completely it without any distraction from Mr. Perfect here. I'm so fucking done having to put up with his shit every single day of my life. God damned my life, and I really do wonder why.

          Cameron began pulling his own worksheets back to him, but I refused to let him have it. I didn't want him to do it yet, before I even do mine because that'll just lead him to zeroes. Not that I cared about him or anything, but if we were to be working together for the project, surely the least we could do is act like he'd discussed some shit, right? I'm a straight A student. I've never once allowed my partners to get an A- or B. That's just not me. Even if I detest them, which in the past I hated twice as much I did now.

          "Can you fucking let go of your paper?" I grumbled after a while having to pull his paper back when he wants it back, and struggling to read and write down stuff on my own worksheet. He should really, really stop with his bullshit. Cut it out. I couldn't stop myself from glaring in time, because I'm more than aware I looked like the biggest demon at the moment. Ha, not that I actually care ― I honestly don't.