It's A Jungle Out There

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“I can’t help but point out that if Fatboy goes anorexic, it’s going to be your fault.”

I roll my eyes and stretch forward to touch my toes. The sun beats down on the football fields like a god trying to burn the ants beneath its feet. Sweat has already appeared on my brow and we haven’t even started practicing yet. The warm ups are getting more and more tedious every year.

Clove watches me with folded arms, her feet shoulder width apart. She’s never worried about things like trying to stand like a lady or behave properly, she just does what she likes and if people don’t like it, then it’s their problem. “Some things you just don’t say,” she says.

“Do you know how hypocritical you sound right now?” I challenge. “You call him Fatboy, just like the rest of us. Just like Mason is Polar Bear and Annie is Nuts. So what if he goes anorexic anyway? It’s not my problem.”

“Might do him some good.” Glimmer lifts her arms behind her back and pulls, loosening the muscles in her arms.

“Just because vomiting up your food works for you, doesn’t mean it works for everyone,” says Clove. Glimmer flips her off but I can’t help agreeing with Clove. Glimmer’s body is only as thin as it now is because she throws up 85% of what she eats. Someday she’s going to destroy the lining of her throat and Clove and I are going to have to deal with it.

“Why so defensive Clove? Don’t tell me you have a soft spot for the nerds?” I tease. I squint up at Clove from where I sit on the grass, the sun behind her head like a halo.

“Of course not. I just don’t want to have to be called into the Principals office to explain how you didn’t really mean it when you told Mellark he was getting fat again and that you really didn’t mean for him to go anorexic and that you were oh so sorry to hear that that had happened.” Clove gives me a dull look. “I’m not that good a liar, Everdeen.”

“It won’t happen,” I scoff. “Mellark doesn’t care what I think, why should he stop eating just because one person-namely me, one of the people he probably hates the most-calls him flabby?”

“Whatever.” Clove bends over to touch her toes, ignoring the cat calls she receives from the pervs in the stands. Urgh, Cheerleading should be a closed practice. Who studies in the stands anyway? I don’t care how nice a day it is, go home to study! The field is a place of pleasure, not academic improvement!

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Mellark lost the weight because he stopped eating,” Glimmer says, almost to herself. “I mean, one summer? Come on, he was huge!”

“Who cares how he lost it? He’s still a loser,” I mutter. “He was a nerd then and he’s a freak now. Who cares how much he weighs? Just one less thing to poke fun at. And even then it’s debateable because we can’t think of anything else other than ‘fatboy’ to call him.”

“We could call him doughballs,” says Clove. “Or baguette boy.”

A chuckle tickles the back of my throat and I grin in amusement. “Or cupcakes.”

We laugh at our own cleverness. I stand up and dust my skirt down. “Why are we even fixating on this? We need to get our shit together and practice!”

The squad practice for an hour and a half. I show them new moves I’ve been working on all summer and we all agree that it’s in the team’s best interests to include them in the routine at the next game. There’s a slight glitch when I go over on my ankle and it screams for the rest of practice to be given a rest.

I’m cursed with a limp for the rest of the day. It’s worse by the next day and I hobble around school like I’ve got a wooden leg. I take the biggest dosage of pills I can without endangering myself and keep a small orange bottle of painkillers in my blazer pocket to take whenever I can.