Fat Girl ✔️

Don't Look Back

"I LOVE that lip color. What's it called?"

"Sunset bloom in cherry. It's part of the Stefan Giovanni collection."

I sat in a stall in the girls' bathroom, listening to Ingrid and some girls chat about makeup and clothes. I'd been wanting to talk to her for a while now, but finally I had an excuse to come find her.

This is my chance.

I peered through the crack in the stall door and saw Ingrid talking to two of her girl friends. As they applied their lipstick in the mirror, they made small talk.

"Anyways, Jenna wants us to come over tomorrow night for this party..."

I tuned out the girls and unlocked the stall. walking up to the bathroom sink, I took a look around. The two girls were smacking their lips and getting ready to go, but Ingrid was still drying her hands. I watched as they impatiently waited for her to finish. It's now or never.

In one swift move, I pretended to trip and knocked Ingrid to the side, sending her purse flying. The contents spilled everywhere, scattering across the bathroom floor. I brought a hand to my face in surprise.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I was just washing my hands, and-"

Ingrid shot me a look that shut me up. I got on the ground and started to pick things up.

"Here, let me help."

The girls looked at me, then the purse, and finally at Ingrid. One of them sighed, heading towards the door.

"We'll meet you outside, kay, Ingrid? Kristen wants to get something from her locker."

Ingrid only let out a huff in response as she reached under the counter for a lost pair of sunglasses. I watched the two girls leave. As soon as the bathroom door shut behind them, I leaned against the wall, leaving Ingrid to pick up her things alone.

"How far along are you?"

Ingrid froze, her fingers hovering over her coin purse. For a moment, I saw her hesitate. I could tell part of her wanted to talk about it, because she had no one else to talk to. But then she started to pick things up again, and the moment was gone. She ignored me and continued to stuff things into her purse.

I leaned forward, urging her to tell me. "Come on. I won't tell. And even if I do, who'd believe me? I'm a loser, right?"

Ingrid bit her lip, hesitant, but then finally gave up. She leaned back.

"It's been a couple of weeks."

I nodded. "Are you... keeping it?"

She shot me a sharp glare. Her hand came up to her stomach reflexively, and she shut her eyes.

"I don't have a choice. I've got to get rid of it," she said under her breath, so quietly I could barely hear her. She looked up at me through her lashes.

"My parents would literally disown me. I wouldn't be able to cheer, and I'd lose all my friends."

"If they leave you over something like this, were they really your friends in the first place?"

She took a breath, looking away. "Besides, I can't do it alone."

"You wouldn't be alone. Julian would be there for you, whatever your decision."

"You don't know him."

I paused unsure of what to say. Then I sighed. I reached for a loose pen and a Forever 21 receipt that had fallen out of her purse. Flipping the receipt over, I scribbled my number on the back.

"If you do decide you're not ready, which is totally normal... give me a call. No one should do something like that alone, and though Julian would make for great company, sometimes you just need a girl who understands."

Slowly, I slid the receipt across the bathroom floor until it sat in front out her.

Ingrid looked up at me. She opened her mouth to say something-

The bathroom door slammed open.

"Ingrid, how long-"

The girl who had interrupted us looked down, noticing me on the floor with Ingrid.

"Oh. You're still cleaning up. Well, hurry up, the bell's about to ring."

Ingrid nodded, then looked back at me. This time, her look was filled with disdain.

"I said I don't need help, loser." She scoffed before picking up the rest of her things and slinging her purse over her shoulder.

It wasn't until I was left alone in the bathroom that I realized she had taken the receipt with her.

***

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Ingrid sat in the passenger seat of my car, looking more uncomfortable than I had ever seen her. She wore a tight pink dress that most definitely wasn't appropriate for the situation, and she kept pulling it down as she gazed out the window nervously.

She nodded, but I noticed her knee bouncing up and down. "Yeah. I'm sure. It's just... does it hurt?"

I shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm the real life Virgin Mary." Noticing her scared expression, I softened. "I'm sure you'll be fine. They probably put you under something. Besides, I'll be there the whole time."

Ingrid nodded. She peered out the window at an angry mob of protesters. One of their signs read, ABORTION IS MURDER. She bit her lip.

"Don't pay attention to them. They don't know what they're talking about, okay?"

She didn't answer me. I could tell she was second guessing herself.

"...We don't have to do this today, you know. We can wait, or-"

"No." Ingrid shook her head. "This can't wait. Let's go."

With that, she stepped out of the car and headed inside, raising her head high past the mob angry screaming people.

I watched her walk through the fire as if no one else existed, and I realized I had been wrong about her all these years.

She wasn't just some brainless cheerleader. She was so much stronger.

After the procedure, I drove her home. She sat in the passenger seat of my car, her jacket wrapped around her and a thoughtful expression on her face. She turned to me before she got out of the car.

"I'm sorry," Ingrid said, biting her lip, "For the way I treated you. All those years."

I shrugged. "It's OK."

"No. It's not. I was so mean... calling you fat and making fun of you..." She trailed off, then looked back at me. "You're not fat. You're pretty. And cool."

"I am fat."

Ingrid didn't say anything. She looked away.

"But i've realized that doesn't make me any less pretty. Or any less cool."

I smiled to myself as she got out of the car, thinking about what I just said. A year ago I would've cried about my weight. A year ago I wanted just one person to tell me I wasn't fat, that I was pretty and not a waste of space.

But things were different now. As I drove away, I realized something else.

Maybe being fat wasn't such a bad thing.

Leave a vote if you're starting to like Ingrid! I sure am...

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