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Authors: Arwen Rich
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a terrible hangover.
I hoped that she would take me somewhere nice, but I could never be sure. Jade had a wild streak that worried me sometimes.
My anxiety was only partially because of my lack of experience with bars. I usually felt this way before going out, even to house parties with friends from college. And my anxiety usually started the way it was starting now:
As I was trying on clothes.
The longer I looked at myself in the mirror, the more dissatisfied I became. I slipped on dress after dress, but I wasn't happy with any of them.
I knew the problem wasn't the dresses, though. The problem was what was underneath it.
The problem was me .
For as long as I could remember, I'd been unhappy with the way that I looked. I was plus-sized, and although I'd been told I was pretty, my curvy figure always made me feel uncomfortable, no matter what I was wearing. I just didn't have the type of body which guys always seemed to lust after – that tiny waif-like figure. I was pretty healthy, but I just didn't have that body-type.
I sat down on my bed, wondering glumly what Jade would be wearing out. Not that it mattered. She was gorgeous and petite. She would look fantastic wearing a rucksack. She ate much more junk-food than me, and never exercised – and yet she looked like a runway model. I just didn't understand it.
Jade and I had gone to house-parties before, and as much as I hate to admit it, I had felt an occasional pang of jealousy towards her. She was always the center of attention for every guy, wherever we went. Their eyes just seemed glued to her.
Whereas I always seemed to occupy some kind of male blind-spot.
I stood up again, attempting to push the negative thoughts from my mind. I was going out to have fun , to celebrate my birthday. Not to show off. I just wanted to relax, forget about my homework for a night, and enjoy myself.
And yet I took a long look in the mirror one more time, checking out the black dress that I was wearing.
It would have to do.
When I left my bedroom to find Jade, I found my assumption was correct. Jade looked gorgeous.
She was wearing a black dress too, which only intensified my feelings of comparison towards her. It clung to her figure, emphasizing the curve of her waist, revealing the lithe muscles of her shoulders.
Why couldn't I look like that?
Jade turned as I entered the room, and her face lit up with a smile.
“You look beautiful!” she said. “How do you do it?” The admiration in her face seemed real, and it confused me. How could Jade possibly feel anything approaching the same way that I felt about her?
She couldn't. Surely she was just being nice.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I said. Jade grinned and gave me a hug, squeezing me tight. And then she said something that confused me even more.
“You're just being nice,” she said. “But I appreciate it anyway.”
Jade did not make sense to me sometimes.
“You ready to head out?” Jade asked, her eyes wide with excitement. I took a deep breath and mustered a smile.
“I guess so!” I said.
The whole taxi ride out, I tried to convince Jade to tell me where we were going. But her lips were sealed. She just smiled knowingly, directing the taxi driver turn by turn.
And as it turned out, we weren't going far at all. After five minutes, we were at the local main-street, where we got out. Being there didn't really help me figure out our destination though; there were heaps of bars along the main street. This was a college town, after all.
Jade took my hand, leading me down the street.
It was completely dark now, and the main street was beginning to crawl with night life. Jade and I walked past hordes of drunken college kids, many of whom checked out Jade – some even wolf-whistling appreciatively. She usually rewarded those guys with a smile, but she never stopped. Pounding music blared from doorways, and and smoke wreathed its way out of bar after bar as we continued along the
I hoped that she would take me somewhere nice, but I could never be sure. Jade had a wild streak that worried me sometimes.
My anxiety was only partially because of my lack of experience with bars. I usually felt this way before going out, even to house parties with friends from college. And my anxiety usually started the way it was starting now:
As I was trying on clothes.
The longer I looked at myself in the mirror, the more dissatisfied I became. I slipped on dress after dress, but I wasn't happy with any of them.
I knew the problem wasn't the dresses, though. The problem was what was underneath it.
The problem was me .
For as long as I could remember, I'd been unhappy with the way that I looked. I was plus-sized, and although I'd been told I was pretty, my curvy figure always made me feel uncomfortable, no matter what I was wearing. I just didn't have the type of body which guys always seemed to lust after – that tiny waif-like figure. I was pretty healthy, but I just didn't have that body-type.
I sat down on my bed, wondering glumly what Jade would be wearing out. Not that it mattered. She was gorgeous and petite. She would look fantastic wearing a rucksack. She ate much more junk-food than me, and never exercised – and yet she looked like a runway model. I just didn't understand it.
Jade and I had gone to house-parties before, and as much as I hate to admit it, I had felt an occasional pang of jealousy towards her. She was always the center of attention for every guy, wherever we went. Their eyes just seemed glued to her.
Whereas I always seemed to occupy some kind of male blind-spot.
I stood up again, attempting to push the negative thoughts from my mind. I was going out to have fun , to celebrate my birthday. Not to show off. I just wanted to relax, forget about my homework for a night, and enjoy myself.
And yet I took a long look in the mirror one more time, checking out the black dress that I was wearing.
It would have to do.
When I left my bedroom to find Jade, I found my assumption was correct. Jade looked gorgeous.
She was wearing a black dress too, which only intensified my feelings of comparison towards her. It clung to her figure, emphasizing the curve of her waist, revealing the lithe muscles of her shoulders.
Why couldn't I look like that?
Jade turned as I entered the room, and her face lit up with a smile.
“You look beautiful!” she said. “How do you do it?” The admiration in her face seemed real, and it confused me. How could Jade possibly feel anything approaching the same way that I felt about her?
She couldn't. Surely she was just being nice.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I said. Jade grinned and gave me a hug, squeezing me tight. And then she said something that confused me even more.
“You're just being nice,” she said. “But I appreciate it anyway.”
Jade did not make sense to me sometimes.
“You ready to head out?” Jade asked, her eyes wide with excitement. I took a deep breath and mustered a smile.
“I guess so!” I said.
The whole taxi ride out, I tried to convince Jade to tell me where we were going. But her lips were sealed. She just smiled knowingly, directing the taxi driver turn by turn.
And as it turned out, we weren't going far at all. After five minutes, we were at the local main-street, where we got out. Being there didn't really help me figure out our destination though; there were heaps of bars along the main street. This was a college town, after all.
Jade took my hand, leading me down the street.
It was completely dark now, and the main street was beginning to crawl with night life. Jade and I walked past hordes of drunken college kids, many of whom checked out Jade – some even wolf-whistling appreciatively. She usually rewarded those guys with a smile, but she never stopped. Pounding music blared from doorways, and and smoke wreathed its way out of bar after bar as we continued along the
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