Page 65 of The C*ck Down the Block

“Just knowing you’re here and have my back is enough to face this particular demon for real this time.” I was ready. I was. “And I promise, I’ll tag you in if it gets too much.”

I turned my attention to Rachel, which of course was exactly what she wanted. But I didn’t protest or dispute her claim that I’d acted inappropriately with my boyfriend. I wasn’t ashamed, and that more than anything took her power away. “Rachel, I ask this with all sincerity. Why do you hate me so much?”

She looked me up and down and I could see the utter disgust in her eyes. “Because you’re so... uppity. You’ve always thought your shit doesn’t stink.”

Okay, the gloves were off. Good. This should be a bare knuckle, give no quarter fight. If my mother had taught me anything, it was to fight like a girl. A powerful queen of a girl.

More of our classmates drifted closer, and this wasn’t quite the circle of students gathering around shouting ‘fight, fight, fight,” but it wasn’t far off. But more people drifted to my side than Rachel’s. Including Lacey, her husband, and a very pretty little girl who must be her daughter.

I saw Rachel’s complaint coming from a mile away. “Because I don’t hate myself? Because I chose to be happy about who and what I am, you’ve gone out of your way, ten years after we went to school together, to try and make my life miserable?”

She looked me up and down and quite literally scoffed. “Why should you be happy when you look like you do? Trust me, you shouldn’t.”

And there it was. This was the schtick of all the fatphobic people I’d ever had the misfortune to come across. Because I was larger than the current beauty ideal, I couldn’t possibly love myself. It must be impossible for me to be a happy person. I absolutely must hate myself.

Well, I didn’t. I loved myself more today than I had a day ago, a week ago, a year ago. And I was loved. By my family, by my friends, and my Chris.

“Rachel.” Lacey said her old friend’s name in a way that was meant to admonish. She folded her arms and took a step back, physically separating herself from the Queen Bees and the rest of the clique. I gave her a tentative nod to acknowledge I saw what she was doing, which side she was choosing.

Today was not the day I’d back down. I took a step closer to and got right into Rachel’s personal space. Yeah, me, my belly, my hips, my ass, my lunch lady arms. I was taking up space. “I see you, Rachel. I’ve known you and people like you my whole life. You honestly think that because my body is bigger than yours, that I should be ashamed and sad and hide myself away from the world. Because I don’t fit the ideal beauty standard of the day, I’m not deserving of love and happiness. But that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

There were murmurs from both sides of the crowd, and I saw something break in Rachel’s facade. She wasn’t used to people not agreeing with her. But this wasn’t high school anymore, and she wasn’t the god-damned class president. She wasn’t... anything. And that pissed her the hell off.

“Do you have any idea how hard I work to look like this?” She flung her arm and hand up and down the front of her body. She accidentally hit my stomach while doing it and physically recoiled. “I put the hard work in, Beatrix, and you’re the one who gets to fuck the quarterback of the Denver Mustangs? I don’t think so.”

The people around us grumbled and the murmuring had a distinct disapproving tone to it.

“Rachel.” Lacey stepped between us and made Rachel back up. “Shut the fuck up. That’s both the dumbest and shittiest thing you’ve ever said.”

I didn’t need anyone else fighting my battle. But I think Lacey had her own horse in this race and I’d gladly ride at dawn for this fight.

Rachel jerked her head back in that way that gave everyone in the world a double chin. “You shut up, Lacey. Or should I say spacey Lacey? You haven’t had a coherent thought of your own since the eighth grade.”

Someone behind me whispered, “shots fired.” Someone named Lulu.

“Yeah, because I listened to your bullshit.” Lacey literally poked Rachel in the chest. I stepped just a little to the side. I may have a long held grudge against Rachel, but Lacey’s might be... grudgier. “You’re an asshole and Beatrix isn’t the only person you made feel like shit in high school. I developed a fucking eating disorder because of the way you treated her and anyone else who ever deigned to wear anything bigger than a size four. A fucking size four.”

Anthony raised his phone and started filming.

“Don’t blame me because you wanted to eat junk food and then had to puke it up so you didn’t get fat. I held your stupid limp hair for you in the bathroom every day for a year.”

Lacey closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Then she looked at her husband and her daughter. Oh god, I felt for her in this moment. And I felt for my own mother. It had to be hard to admit in front of your children that your life wasn’t perfect.

I was calling my mom when this was over and thanking her for teaching me to live an authentic life by her example.

Lacey began again, her voice a little shaky. I put my hand on her arm, lending her the Queen power I had been ready to release on Rachel. She needed it more in this moment than I did. “I had to go to an eating disorder clinic my freshmen year of college so that I didn’t die. Did you know that? I was so afraid of being fat that I almost. Fucking. Died.”

Amanda, who’d been smirking like this was her favorite Saturday morning cartoon now looked a little shell shocked. “What? I thought you went to Europe to study abroad?”

Lacey glanced at Amanda and frowned. “I went to Europe to a clinic that had to force feed me protein mush and watch me around the clock so I didn’t try to throw it up. I’ve spent the last ten years in weekly therapy. And do you know what my therapist told me not to do this summer? Come to this god-damned reunion. Because we were both worried I would get triggered by the two of you and your fucking bullshit.”

“You’re a cow. Don’t blame me for your weaknesses.” Rachel rolled her eyes, but I saw the flash of something more in them just before that. Lacey was getting through to her in a way I wasn’t sure I ever could. I wasn’t sure that Rachel could ever empathize with me, and I decided right there on that field that I wasn’t going to even try to get her to. She had some deep-seated issues that a quite literal showdown at a high school reunion wasn’t going to change.

And it wasn’t my job to change it for her.

That thought, right there, that I didn’t have to defend myself, put in the emotional labor of explaining that yes, I was actually happy, or try to help someone like Rachel who may never be able to get over her own biases see how wrong she was, that set me free.

I was free to be me. Happy, healthy, in love.

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