Ms. Piggy's... OBSESSION

fool

It's almost closing time, the clock ticks - 5:43 PM. We close at six, and I'm still here, stuck scrubbing the meat display cases.

Breath in...breath out.

My arms are already burning a little from leaning over the counter so long, and every time I straighten up to reach the top shelf, I have to stop and catch my breath. Being this size means I can't move fast — not like other people can-and even simple stuff like cleaning leaves me winded. I've got fifteen more minutes to get this place spotless before I can head home and maybe catch a nap before homework.

Then suddenly, the little bell above the door jingles.

Seriously? Can't they read the 'we're closed' sign plastered on the door?

"Sorry!" I call out without turning around, rinsing out my sponge and trying to hurry-my lungs already working overtime. "We're closing up in just a bit-you'll have to come back tom-"

I turn.

And swear, my brain just short-circuits.

Standing in the doorway, rain dripping off her dark hair, wearing a big hoodie that's way too big for her and those thick black glasses I know so well. Her hands are stuffed in her pockets, and she's looking around the shop like she's not sure she's in the right place.

...Karina, Karina Yu.

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Words are somewhere in my head, I know they are — but all that comes out is a strangled sound that doesn't even sound like my voice. I try to step forward, but my legs feel like they're made of concrete, and the few steps I manage are slow and clumsy. My brain's just spinning-Karina Yu is in our shop Karina Yu is in our shop Karina Yu is in our shop-over and over again like a broken record.

It's her. It's really her!

The girl I've watched from hallways and windows and across crowded rooms for two whole years-never once thinking I'd see her here.

"Um-hi," she says, her voice deep but still femininely soft. "I'm so sorry for barging in like this. I saw the sign, I really did-but I just... needed somewhere to duck in for a minute."

She takes a small step inside, pushing her glasses up her nose with one wet finger. Then her eyes meet mine, and a tiny, gentle smile tugs at her lips.

"Winter, right? Winter Kim? We have history and bio together."

What...?

She knows my name?

The thought hits me so hard I nearly drop the sponge I'm still clutching. My grip tightens, and I have to take a shaky breath- 'cause my brain's now doing somersaults on top of spinning in circles.

Karina Yu knows who I am. She didn't call me dirty nicknames. Just...just said my real name.

"Y-yeah," I manage to get out, and it comes out way louder than I meant it to. I flinch at my own voice, then fumble to set the sponge down on the counter — it slips out of my hand and splatters soapy water all over my already-stained jeans. "Sorry-sorry, I just-"

Stop being a pathetic loser in front of her!

I bend down to pick it up, but moving that fast makes my chest tighten. I have to stop halfway, hands on my knees, sucking in air like I've just run a mile. When I finally straighten up again, Karina's looking at me with concern in her dark eyes-not pity, not disgust, just... pure care.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking another small step closer. I can wait outside if you need me to-"

"No!" The word bursts out before I can stop it. I shake my head, feeling my face heat up. "N-no, it's fine. You can... you can stay."

I turn my back to her for a second, pressing my hands against the cool metal of the display case and trying to get my brain to work again.

She's here. She knows my name. She's not running away.

Not like those assholes who see me as a fat, dirty...pig.

They call me, Ms. Piggy.

Yes. Awful right?

Smells like pork, looks like a pig, eats like a pig and the worst one? We also sells pigs.

I already memorize those stupid lines my bullies were always using.

'Look, it's Ms. Piggy —bet she ate half the shop's inventory for lunch.'

'Ugh, stay away-she probably smells like raw meat all the time.'

'Why even bother showering when you work with pigs all day?'

They've been at it since freshman year. At first I'd try to ignore them, walk faster, even though I can't walk faster, not really. Then I'd come home and cry into my pillow, scrubbing my skin raw in the shower 'til it was red and sore. Like that'd make me... less... me.

Even teachers act differently around me sometimes-like they're worried I'll stain their nice clothes if I get too close. Or they'll pat me on the shoulder and say 'Winter, you're such a hard worker' in that tone that means 'too bad you're not pretty or thin like the other girls.'

But Karina... she's not looking at me like I'm something to be avoided. She's not wrinkling her nose at the smell of meat and soap that clings to this place. She just stands there, rain still dripping off her hair, waiting patiently while I pull myself together.

I turn back around slowly, keeping my eyes on the floor at first before working up the nerve to meet hers again.

"I uh... I was just finishing up," I mumble, wiping my hands on my apron even though it's just as dirty as my jeans. "You can... you can sit over there if you want." I nod toward a small wooden stool in the corner-one we keep for when Dad needs help with paperwork.

Karina follows my gaze, then gives me that soft smile again. "Thanks. I really appreciate it. Those... those guys from school were following me."

Again?!

I've seen them-hanging around the library doors, tripping her when she walks by, snatching her notebook and reading her notes out loud just to make her blush. I've wanted to say something a hundred times, but every time I try to move fast enough to get there, they're already gone.

"They're idiots," I say before I can stop myself. My voice came out steadier this time. "You're not... you're not like they say you are."

Karina blinks, then pulls the stool over to the counter-close enough so we can talk, but not so close that she's crowding me.

"And you're not like they say you are."

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I thought that little conversation would somehow make us closer.

But it didn't.

The next time I saw her — three weeks later in the school hallway. I almost didn't recognize her at all. She looked like a completely different person.

Her dark hair was styled in loose beach waves that fell perfectly over her shoulders, with a tiny claw clip holding back one side. Her makeup was flawless-soft smoky eyes, contour that defined her cheekbones, and a nude lip that looked expensive. She was wearing a sleek black leather trench coat over a white lace-trimmed cami top, high-waisted wide-leg jeans that pooled just right over her black stilleto.

That's not Karina, I thought, my feet slowing to a stop. It can't be.

But then she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear with her finger-the exact same gesture I'd watched her do a hundred times-and I knew. It was her. Just... not the her I'd thought I'd known. No more baggy clothes, no more thick black plastic frames-she was wearing thin wire-rimmed glasses now, and her whole vibe was polished and put-together in a way that looked so natural.

The next Monday in history class, she walked in looking just like that — her outfit coordinated perfectly, sliding into a seat near the front instead of her usual spot in the back corner. When our eyes almost met, she looked away fast-like she'd just seen a stranger.

She never stopped by the shop again.

I'd see her in the hallways sometimes — but now there were other people around her. Girls from our class, guys from athletic clubs. Once, I saw her laughing with some tall guy I didn't recognize, and my chest tightened so bad I had to hide myself into an empty classroom just to catch my breath.

I told myself it was stupid. I was a fool to believe that we can at least be friends. We'd talked for one hour-why would she want to be friends with someone like me? Someone the whole school calls Ms. Piggy, someone who smells like meat and sweat and hard work. She was smart and quiet and... clean. Not like me.

The bullies noticed I was even quieter than usual so they took the chance and have their way, full swing. I don't really care. All I really want to know is why is she pretending that we never met?

Well... she probably didn't even remember my name anymore.

She can't even look at me!

Am I that hideous?

I keep replaying that day in the shop over and over in my head. The way she smiled at me. How she didn't care about the mess or the smell.

But now? Now she walks past me like I'm invisible. Like I was never even there.

And I realized that... I can't make her like me. She's moving on to bigger and better things, and I'm stuck here — scrubbing meat cases, getting bullied, pretending like I don't watch her from across the cafeteria every single day. I know I should just let her go. I know I should focus on myself and stop pining after someone who'll never look at me the way I look at her.

But god — I just can't.

I want her so bad it physically hurts sometimes. I want to be the one she laughs with, the one she tells her stupid plant facts to, the one she leans on when things get hard. I want to hold her hand, to tell her how amazing she is, to just be around her.

I want her.

And I'm going to get her.