Teenage Waistland Read Free Page B

it was the best I could do. It’s official, all right. I’m not only morbid, I’m
morbidly
obese.
    Crystal’s not just on board for Char’s latest brainstorm foreverlasting happiness, she is, as Char gleefully put it, “scrubbing the deck.” When I muttered that
my
mom was going to sink this surgery scheme of hers faster than the iceberg sank the
Titanic
, Char smacked me and said I was awfulizing again. But it’s true. How can I possibly dream my mother will help me get this surgery, when she refuses to leave the house for a carton of milk? All she does is eat, sleep, watch TV, shop online, and knit—obsessively. She doesn’t notice I never wear her sweaters, and I doubt my brother, Julius, likes them either. He’s six years older than me and a junior at Cornell. Less than halfway through his senior year in high school—only two months after my father died—Mom sent him away to prep school in Virginia. It’s true, Julius had begun drinking alcohol—during school, even. But he was an A student before everything happened, and was just in a lot of pain. Instead of helping him through it, though, Mom turned her back on him. Julius suddenly was gone, and I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen him since. He didn’t even come home the first Thanksgiving or Christmas after the funeral, and now it’s two or three days at most during Christmas vacation—if at all. We used to talk on the phone a little, but even that stopped when Julius moved off campus with his fiancée. Now we just text once in a while. But I don’t blame Julius for making a new life without us—Mom’s the one who shipped him off to be somebody else’s problem. I’ve always been terrified that if I gave her the slightest bit of trouble, I’d be sent away too, but maybe that would have been the best thing—it’s me and Mom who got morbidly obese, not Julius.
    Our family of three—fat, almond-skinned Japanese girl with long jet-black hair; even fatter pale and graying blondwoman; and lean, dark-haired white boy with big green eyes—would be hard to figure to someone on the outside. Or maybe they’d just think I was adopted.
    Mom probably won’t attend Julius’s graduation next year—or his wedding for that matter. She doesn’t seem able to be out of the house and around other people anymore—for any reason. That’s why I have to be there for him—so he doesn’t feel like he’s completely alone in the world. But Julius has no idea how much more weight I’ve gained since he last saw me—fifty pounds at least. Either Mom hasn’t noticed, or she’s just not saying anything.
    I should be paying attention. That’s the look Char’s flashing me. Her brow is raised and she’s jerking her head in the nurse’s direction as if spacing out alone could nix our chances for getting into the trial. The sides of the chair are digging into my hips and I notice I’m not the only one constantly shifting. Suddenly, Hefty Quarterback’s huge arm goes up.
    “I was wondering—”
    “First, please introduce yourself and tell us your age,” the nurse says.
    “Bobby Konopka, sixteen,” Hefty Quarterback says. He’s got wavy dark brown hair and gentle blue eyes, and I like his deep voice. His Syosset varsity football jersey is emerald green, probably 4XL, and
Refrigerator
is scrawled in Magic Marker down the right sleeve. A bull among cows. Char raises both her eyebrows at me this time, and I look away so she doesn’t detect the heat racing to my cheeks. “Um, where do you lose weight first, and like, how much, how soon?” His voice is unsteady, like mine when I answer a question in class, even when I’m sure I’m right.
    “It’s different for every person,” she says. She’s elaboratingwhen Bobby looks up and catches me watching him. I yank my head so fast in the other direction that I feel my neck spasm, but in the split second before I gave myself whiplash, I think he smiled at me! I’m staring at a section of the floor now,