The Fat Girls Club

Chapter 5

Kallum is leaning against the wall, his top shirt button open and his blue tie hanging loosely around his neck. I can’t help but notice how mature he looks like this and I almost relax at his presence until I hear Zenaida yelp. The frightening man is increasing his tight grip around her wrist and he yanks her further behind his back, causing me to lose my grip on her other arm. The reek of his breath is combined with an overall stench on his clothes and I have to ask myself what Zenaida is doing dating a guy like this. I don’t know the girl, but I don’t think this sleazy guy would be a good choice for anyone, much less a girl in high school.

“What did you say, little boy?” The man sneers, his slightly yellowed teeth making it clear that he is a smoker. Kallum looks mildly inconvenienced at most. His hair is styled up and out of his face and when the sun hits the side of his cheek it illuminates the freckles that dust the bridge of his noise and he looks so boyish in that moment especially in opposition to the rugged man that stands beside me.

“I said, you do not want to do that.” Kallum steps forward, finally making eye contact with the man. Zenaida’s boyfriend laughs hysterically at this, looking around incredulously as if waiting for someone to laugh along with him. I step closer to a trembling Zenaida, my palms turning sweaty. Kallum has the same look of malice on his face that he had at my house when his father called him out, except this time there’s a glint in his eye that wasn’t there before. He almost looks excited as if this is something he has been looking forward to all day. Suddenly, I’m in fear for Zenaida’s supposed boyfriend.

“This has to be a joke, right?” The man laughs, slightly staggering on his feet. “Tell me this is a joke. I will end you kid.” His laugh cuts short and his disbelieving tone has taken a to threatening one.

“Touch me, I dare you,” Kallum baits the man with his hands firmly clutched behind his back and that's when I realize what he’s trying to do. He knows he can’t start a fight with this guy because that would go on his record and mean goodbye to the fire academy. But a case of self-defense would be very easy to dispute. Kallum easily towers over this man and that together with his excessive amount of training I’m assuming he does, he could put him down in a matter of seconds and seriously hurt him. I have to put a stop to this.

“Kallum, stop.” I step in front of him, getting in between the two guys. I try not to think too much about the drunk man that is now behind me at an uncomfortable close distance.

“Get out of my way,” he says through clenched teeth.

“No, I know what you’re doing."

“What I’m doing is trying to help you. I’m not going to stand here and let this poor excuse of a man threaten you,” he spits, his eyes unblinking and focused behind me. The man behind me starts laughing again and Kallum rolls up his shirt sleeves, trying to step around me.

“Please,” I whisper gently, barely audible over his rugged breathing combined with that of the man behind me and the whimpering’s of Zenaida. His brown eyes meet my own for the first time since approaching us and I am taken back to years ago when he would lose his temper over the smallest detail and his mother would have to step in, take him to his room and calm him down. I don’t know what she would say to him but every time he would come out with an apologetic smile on his face and I would forgive him immediately. Not that he ever took out his anger on me directly, but it would affect everyone around him when he had his little outbursts. It seems they are not so little anymore.

I hesitantly reach for his clenched fists and take a deep breath, bracing myself for his reaction. He’s watching my every move very closely and I don’t break eye contact. I take his silence as permission to continue. My hands wrap around his fists and I swallow hard, the soft skin of my palms rubs against the rough skin of his knuckles. His eyes stay on me and his breathing starts to even out matching my own deep breaths.

“Calm down,” I speak in a soft voice, trying not to anger him further.

My body freezes when I sense the sleazy man step closer to me and I feel his hot breath on the side of my neck. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a chill runs up my spine when I hear him sniff my hair, his clammy nose brushing against my skin.

“I like this one, maybe she could come home with us. How do you feel about that, baby? You know how much I love my chocolate.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. Tears prick in my eyes and despite the urge to scream and shove the man away from me, I stand completely still knowing that even the slightest reaction from me can set Kallum off. My grip hardens around his fists as I try to fight back the tears.

“Landon, please!” Zenaida shrieks in horror.

Kallum’s chest stops heaving and it looks like he’s stopped breathing all together. He looks like he’s about to lunge and the only thing stopping him is my firm grip on his hands. His jaw clenches and unclenches and I can tell that he is trying to regain his composure. He pulls one of hands out of my grip, and I lower my gaze, the action causing a tear to slip out. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I want to curse myself out for thinking I could calm him down especially after what happened at the dinner. I release his other wrist, not wanting him to remove that one as well, still wanting to leave dignity intact. My shoulder slump and I’m not sure what to do with my hands now. The hand that I let go of catches mine and holds my wrist firmly.

I look up at him and see him reach into his pocket and grab his phone on which he immediately dials 911 and puts it on loudspeaker. His eyes find mine for a second before moving on and the small squeeze on my hand is all the reassurance I need before his face hardens again.

“You have 10 seconds to disappear before I call the police,” he orders, his voice eerily calm.

“Woah, no need to do that man.” The man backs away, letting go of Zenaida who rushes behind Kallum. “You know I was just joking, man.” He starts backing away with his hands raised in front of him. His tough guy act gone.

“Leave. Now.” Kallum doesn’t need to tell him twice as the man is already jogging out of the parking lot, looking around in paranoia as if the police are going to pop up at any second. Kallum tells the operator on the other end that it was a false alarm and that we are safe then promptly ends the call.

“How are you getting home,” he asks, addressing Zenaida. She shrugs and its evident that she was going to leave with her boyfriend. He turns to look at me expectantly and I just look back at him pointedly, not answering until her addresses me.

“Cora, I assume you’re walking home as usual?”

How does he know that? I didn’t start walking home until two years ago when Dad started doing freelance jobs in the afternoons and thus there was no ne able to pick me up. I don’t really mind though, the walk through the peaceful suburbia is often something that I need to calm down after a particularly hard day at school.

I nod yes at his question.

“Alright, wait here and I’ll get my truck to drop you guys off.”

My protests are about to leave my mouth but Zenaida is already throwing her arms around his neck and thanking him profusely, crying into his shoulder.

“Erm, yeah, it’s nothing,” he says with his one arm swinging limply at his side and his other scratching the back of his neck. I catch his gaze and have to stifle a giggle when I see his face and he scowls at my reaction. I don’t think I have ever seen Kallum so flustered and it’s almost endearing then I remember what he said to me just a few days ago and all feelings of endearment are gone. The little frown that forms on his face indicates that he’s noticed my shift in mood. I look to the ground, suddenly feeling awkward about standing in front of him with another girl in his arms.

He clears his throat and Zenaida steps away from him sheepishly, her dark curly hair sticking to his neck. He takes one last long look around, his eyes searching and when he’s content he jogs to the school parking lot and I am left alone with Zenaida. I’m folding and unfolding my arms, my backpack heavy on my back since I didn't get the chance to put all of my textbooks in my locker. Well at least the car ride is going to be good for something.

She’s whimpering again and I’m not sure what to do to help her. I’ve never really had female friends; my pubescent years were spent with a boy who was as emotionally invested as the toys we played with. Our relationship was solely for playing and watching anime, anything that remotely had to do with feelings was dismissed and the subject was changed. My mom’s late nights spent trying to build and run a successful restaurant from the ground up did not help. Though, I don’t resent her for that, I don’t resent my dad either for being at home but still unable to connect with his angsty teenage daughter after she was abandoned by her only friend.

I try to smile at the girl but in her distraught state, she barely notices so instead I ruffle through my bag to find her a tissue. The tissue I pull out is crumpled up and has what I hope is a coffee stain, but she grabs it regardless and blows her nose into it.

“Thanks,” she says after tucking the used tissue into her oversized sweater with our school emblem of a silver tree on the front of it.

“It’s just a tissue, no biggie,” I wince at my awkwardness. Really, it’s just a tissue? I know that that is not what was referring to.

“No, I mean thank you everything you did back there,” she swipes her nose with her sleeve and I can tell that now that she’s calmed down a bit, she’s feeling a bit embarrassed. “You didn't have to do that, uhm, yeah,” she trails off, kicking pebbles on the ground.

“You don't need to thank me, and you most certainly do not need to be with someone that talks to you like that.” I say with conviction, disgusted at the things he was saying to her. She doesn’t say anything to that.

This girl is quite easily one of the most beautiful people in our school with her button nose and heart shaped lips. It’s unfortunate that she is treated like less than just because of her weight, from her own boyfriend, nonetheless.

“Who was that guy anyway?” I have to ask. It seems unlikely that she should stoop so low to date such a person.

“Landon,” she confesses, “we’ve been talking for a few months on and off and trust me he is not normally like this. He just had a bad day at work you know, those people at the hardware store are really hard on him and sometimes he just gets frustrated. That’s all.”

“How old is he?” I can’t help but ask and I try my best to try and sound non-judgmental but when she crosses her arms over her chest, I know I’ve hit a nerve.

“He’s only 22 and before you ask, yes I am 18,” she defends. I try to apologize but I can’t find the right words and luckily Kallum arrives right on que, stopping his truck on the road in front of us. Zenaida doesn’t waste any more time chatting to me and hops in the red two-door truck.

She sits in the middle with her legs straddling the gear shift and although she doesn’t seem to mind the position, my heart drops at how close her knee is to his. He barely notices this small detail and starts the truck without saying anything to us as soon as I’ve closed the door behind me. The entire car ride is silent apart from the occasional sniff from Zenaida. She’s stopped crying now and, in the silence, the moment I had with Kallum back at the school, keeps replaying in my head.

The inside of his truck is much cleaner and neater than I expected from a teenage boy, especially one that would pick his boogers and stick the underneath his mother’s car seats. I suppose I shouldn’t judge him too harshly. He must think I have changed too from who I was in middle school. I’ve become more invisible that I used to be. I was an energetic child, and that energy came with many strong opinions on everything. I could debate anyone about any topic just for the fun of it, telling them that I was practicing for when I became a big-time lawyer in D.C. one day. I don’t think like that anymore, instead I’ve learned that the less you say, the less people have to say about you.

He flicks on the radio and soon the awkward energy in the car dissipates and I catch a glimpse of him nodding his head to the beat. His window is open and the cool breeze wafts through his silky dark hair. From this angle, I notice how long his eyelashes are and how they flutter across his sun kissed cheeks when he blinks. His almost feminine features are

Zenaida catches me staring at him and I pretend to be looking at a passing sign on his side of the road, following it with my eyes before looking at my lap, picking at loose threads in my skirt. She gives him directions to her house as we pass countless identical houses. Well, not exactly identical but they might as well be with how coordinated everyone in this town is about everything. The obsession with the firefighters, who have been deemed our very own heroes, takes the cup. The same hero’s that fired my dad for a “misconduct” that seemed more like a race problem to me. We pass the station and I audibly scoff, turning away from my window.

Kallum looks at me with a raised eyebrow as if challenging me to say something. He must be aware of my disdain for the department especially because it was his dad that had to fire mine under the pretense of “doing his job” when all it would have taken was just a little more investigation to prove my dad’s innocence. Funny how two Taylor men have caused so much pain in my family and yet here they are back in our lives, unannounced.

Zenaida’s house is just around the next corner and much like all the other houses we’ve passed, it’s a nice suburban home with a neat garden in the front. I step out of the car to let the girl out and she stands there smiling for a few seconds, looking back and forth between Kallum and I. I look to Kallum and he looks just as confused as I am. All signs of any tears or sadness have left this girl’s face and she looks like the happy soul that I’ve seen any other day in my math class.

“Thanks for the ride,” she chirps at Kallum who just answers her with a curt nod.

“How do we know he’s not just going to come to your house?” I ask when she’s about to turn around. Her smile falters for a second but she recovers quickly, her straight teeth back on display.

“My dad’s home,” she assures me, pointing to a silver car in the driveway, “Landon would never risk that.” She says Landon’s name softly, trying to disguise her look of paranoia over her shoulder with a light hair flip. Of course, her dad doesn’t know about this. I have to remind myself that it is not my place to do anything, because the urge to march in there and tell her dad everything is overwhelming. 

“Text me if he bothers you again, okay?” I tell her, whilst putting my number in her phone. She nods frantically then bounces off into her house, unbothered. I sigh, knowing full well that she is not going to keep her word.

I climb back into the truck and Kallum silently starts the car and starts driving in the direction of my house. It catches me off guard that he still knows which way to get to my house, considering he lives on almost the opposite side of town where the birds chirp on a continuous loop and the hedges are never overgrown or uneven from one another.

A loose strand of my hair brushes over the nape my neck and I flinch, my hand flying to my neck. Alcohol stained breath hits my senses just from the memory and it feels so real that I almost shudder.

“What’s wrong?” Kallum asks, noticing my abrupt movement.

“I can’t get it out of my head,” I confess, rubbing, almost clawing my hand at the back of my neck. “The way he was so close to me, his smell, and how it felt when he touched me.” I shudder just at the thought of it.

“Stop,” he breathes, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. I try to stop thinking about it altogether and instead that makes it worse and the rubbing at my neck turns into a frantic scratching.

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” he commands, swiftly grabbing my hand and moving it away from my neck, onto my lap. His touch ignites something within me that I cannot explain. This is the first time he has initiated any physical contact with me and before I can ponder over that for too long, he is pulling into my driveway. He stops the car and instead of getting out, I just sit there staring at my house.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.

“Sorry for what?” He turns in his seat to look at me and his full attention on me makes me nervous. His face is set in a deep frown and he loos so manly, almost rough witch such an expression. There are deep set lines on his forehead as if this is his regular expression and I cannot say that I’m surprised. Perhaps more concerned than anything.

“I-I don’t know, just everything that happened. I’m sorry that you had to get involved. I know how bad it would have been for your record if you got in a fight or even arrested.”

“I got involved because I wasn’t going to let some creep beat on Zen and hit on you. I couldn’t give less of a crap about my record,” he justifies even though I know that last part isn’t true.

“Oh, you know her?” I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and by the way his eyebrows draw together, and his mouth is slightly ajar, I can tell he noticed.

“Yes, I know her, Cora, and even if I didn’t, I still wouldn’t let that happen.” I can’t help but feel that he thinks that I am shallow enough to be jealous of Zenaida when she was clearly in danger. I look in his eyes hoping that is not the case, but I see nothing. I wish I could read his emotions as easily as he is able to read mine. Guilt overcomes me and I am immediately ashamed of my feelings. I said that without thinking and of course I didn’t mean it. I don’t envy that girl; I want to protect her. Why do I feel like this when I am around him? I don’t say anything for a few moments after that, still reveling in my shame. Instead, I grab my heavy backpack from my feet and open the car door. I’m about to close the door when Kallum speaks up again.

“You good?” He holds my gaze, his question seeming much heavier than just the two simple words he uttered. I don’t know how to answer this question because no, I am not good. I am not good with how Zenaida was treated today, I am not good that the thoughts of what would have happened if Kallum hadn’t shown up, I am not good with not only how I am treated, but how many girls are mistreated because of their weight.

“I’m good.” I walk away.