CHUBBY

thirteen

I was lost for words. Tutor Scott? Bullshit. That's probably why he had that dum ass smile on his face. Was he seriously that desperate? He doesn't even fucken like me.

"He needs more mathematic points in order to make it to his final year here. The test coming up is major and he has to pass it in order to pass the 11th grade," Mr. Heartmen explained. "I asked the other more smarter mathematicians for help but they declined especially with what happen to you. You in?"

No matter how much I may hate a person I would never want to see them fail.

"Plus, it's extra credit for all your classes. Really helpful for the ones your failing," he interrupted my thoughts. I was failing shop class.

"Fine. I'll do it," I said in defeat.

"Thank you. Now please head to class."

***

While on my way to class I needed to tell Mickey Mouse.

Me: I HAVE TO TUTOR SCOTT IN ORDER TO PASS THE 11TH GRADE! IM FAILING SHOP CLASS AND DESPERATELY NEED EXTRA CREDIT

Mickey Mouse🐭❣: Oh well, if it will make you feel any better I'll be there for moral support. What time?

Me: idk. After school I guess. And yes, thabk you, it would mean a lot.

Mickey Mouse 🐭❣: ahh no problem. Anything for my girlfriend.

Wait what? Girlfriend?

Me: wait. Girlfriend?

Mickey Mouse 🐭❣: yeah. Did yesterday not happen? She'll be back ya know.

Me: oh so like pretend?

Mickey Mouse 🐭❣: yeah.

Mickey Mouse 🐭❣ is typing...

Mickey Mouse 🐭❣: for now...😉

I didn't have time to respond because I was already at my class. I couldn't help but blush as I walked in. Everyone stared at me and like I had shit on my face or something. Oh wait, I'm Fatty Frankie...

                                  ***

It was writing class at the end of the day which meant being forced to sit next to Samantha, as always. For the past few weeks we hadn't said anything to each other. She did her work, I did mine. But today, I noticed her staring at me like crazy. I wasn't going to say anything but after a while it started to bug me.

"What!" I blurted out.

"Nothing," she turned for me to the board.

"Obviously it's something if you keep staring at me," I retorted.

"You just, changed."

"I changed? Oh what because a guy actually likes me this time? Get over yourself Samantha," I continued writing in my notebook.

"Get over myself? Oh please, your the one who thinks because a guy likes you, you could have all this new attitude," such a child.

"No. It's always been there you were just too selfish to see it!"

She gasped. "I'm not selfish. If I was then I would never had became friends with you!"

I scoffed. I continued working instead of trying to find a snorty comment to shoot back. But, in the end, she just continued.

"I felt bad for you. Everyone did. No one wanted to be friends with the fat ass so being the nice person I am I thought maybe being your friend was the nice choice. Turns out your just ungrateful," she said in an aggressive way.

But, still I didn't respond. I try to hold back tears as she continues to go on.

"Yeah guy's don't like you because look at you your hideous. The only reason I was ever friends with you was to make me look good. I'm glad Scott said what he said. I guess I was being too nice to tell you the truth that everyone is thinking. Including your mom," after she said that, I ran away crying. Like, out of the room. I never thought she felt that way about me. What have I ever done to her that was nothing but loyal? I never called her names, never betrayed her, I was a good friend. God I just need to go gome.

***

As soon as I shut the door to my apartment, a knock echoed throughout the room. Who the hell?

"Hey Frank," oh, it was Mickey Mouse.

"Hey Mickey Mouse," I sadly say.

"What's wrong? You've been crying, why?" He puts his hand on my cheek and starts to caress it with his thumb.

"Samantha just said abunch of mean shit to me, that's all. Nothing new though," I said that last part under my breath.

"Aw. She's seriously is a bad friend you know. But, you have me and maybe my sister will like you," he said.

"Sister?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell you about her?"

"No. What's she like?"

"Bad."

"Oh. Where is she? Jail?" I kind of laughed a little at myself.

"No. College but she was in jail before. Or well, a cell."

"Oh. How troubling is she?"

"Very."

"Oh. Did she bully you?"

"No. But she didn't stand up for me either. My whole high school life they didn't even think we were related."

"Oh wow. She was that mean?"

"Yup."

Before the conversation could continue, someone knocked on the door.

"Ugh it's him," I said before opening the door.