Page 53 of Bullied Pretend Mate
So I run into the woods, not sure what I’m looking for, not even sure I’m going to find something that makes sense.
And mostly running from him.
It’s always been fine for me to have a crush on him. It was safe, in a way, because I was sure he would never like me back. I’d never have to face the reality of being a fat girl with a tall, handsome man like that. Never have to face the ridicule and listen to the harsh whispers following us everywhere we went.
Tara’s voice comes back to me, bringing back the sounds and smells of that bathroom. The stale water in the toilet bowl. The rush of nausea and self-hatred when I stuck that finger down my throat.
“You’re really going to hurt your body over some shithead boy?”
I went completely still, as if I didn’t move or make any noise, she might leave me alone. Like a scared bunny, freezing in the middle of the yard, hoping it would be enough to make the scary neighborhood dog go away.
“Hello?” she called, laughing a little, rapping on the door. “Maeve, come on. Come out of there. You don’t want to do this.”
I straightened up, my heart skipping in my chest. “You know my name?”
“Other people might treat you like crap, but not me,” Tara said from outside the door. “Yes, I know your name. Are you serious?”
When I pushed out and saw her, it was like meeting a pop star in real life. She was almost effervescent. An impossible kind of cool that I could never aspire to.
And she was plus-sized. Like me.
Her blue hair was choppy and short, like she’d cut it herself, leaving the layers in jagged edges down above her ears. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. She was like the picture of life.
“Come on,” she said, ushering me to the sink. Moving with a brusque precision, she grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and pressed it to my eyes, which were puffy from crying.
“What do you mean, over a shithead boy?” I asked, sucking in a shaking, sobbing breath when I looked up and met her eyes.
Her expression softened. “Come on, Maeve. I’ve heard people talking about it. It’s all over school.”
My sobs only deepened. Here was this girl I barely knew, feeling sorry for me because apparently everyone in the school knew that I liked Felix.
And he made it perfectly clear to the entire student body that it would be laughable for him to even think of liking me back.
Not only that, but it was like I could still feel his arms around me, his hand behind my head, tipping me back and driving me into the wall for that kiss.
“Alright,” Tara said, balling up the paper towels and throwing them in the garbage. Everything she did looked effortlessly cool. “Who do you have next period?”
“Reynolds,” I said, thinking about the government teacher who always looked at me with pitying eyes.
“Perfect,” Tara laughed, tugging me out of the bathroom, her boots kicking out as she walked like she was marching the two of us into battle. “So, you can skip.”
“What—I can? No, I can’t. That would be—”
“Come on, Maeve,” she laughed, throwing her arm over my shoulder like we were already best friends.
She was effortlessly affectionate with me in a way that I’d never seen from another fat kid. Usually, we were used to sitting in the corner, trying to make ourselves as small as possible. Assuming the other kids would cry or gag if we got near them.
Not Tara. She was bold, confident. Everything I wanted to be.
And there’s a chance she’s still alive.
Everything is confusing, and I still don’t have a real understanding of what happened that night. But if there’s achance she’s alive, I have to try to find her. Have to try to help her.
Even if she has something to do with the fires around Silverville.
Tara was always only ever a confused kid, like the rest of us. As confident as she acted, I know she was just trying to fit in. Just trying to find herself in us.
Just trying to put together a group in which she could feel safe and wanted. A handful of girls doing magic together, letting out some of the steam of our individual pressures.
