Read Online Fat Angie by e. E. Charlton-Trujillo - Free Book Online
Authors: e. E. Charlton-Trujillo
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analysis of body image.
“Esther is always on about marketing being the devil,” said KC. “And maybe I mostly see her POV but don’t tell her.”
Fat Angie nodded. She was good at nodding.
“There’s just more to
you
than how you look,” KC said, biting into the second Swiss Roll. “It’s more than a package.”
Fat Angie tugged once again on her jeans. They were camel-toeing again.
“But packages. I mean, if they’re not all diabetes inducing,” said Fat Angie, “they’re kinda still important. Like . . .”
KC listened. Fat Angie struggled with such focused attention.
“Is it because no one treats you weird that you’re not afraid to be who you are?” Fat Angie asked.
“I don’t know,” said KC. “I mean, I just moved here, so the level of weird is still relative to the level of mystery. Things weren’t as easy back in the Hills.”
“But you just said people thought you were pretty.”
“They did,” said KC, outlining an invisible heart with the toe of her boot. “Why are you the way you are?”
“Kinda by default,” said Fat Angie. “And a host of mood-stabilizing drugs. Besides. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
“OK, prescription drugs aside. What do
you
think?” KC asked.
The moment was clear. There. Vulnerability. Trust. Fat Angie had discussed the topic with her therapist to some length.
“I don’t think people wanna see me,”
Fat Angie had said.
“I don’t think they understand me.”
The therapist had made a note:
Potential borderline personality disorder with inability to take risks.
“I don’t know what I think,” said Fat Angie. “I guess I think that I’m —”
Wang slammed into Fat Angie and knocked her off balance.
“Oops,” said Wang.
He sized up the sultry KC.
“Yo, hey.” Wang bit into an apple.
“Hey,” said KC.
“This is Wang,” said Angie. “My adopted brother.”
“So . . .” Wang said, grinning ear to big ear. “You’re the new girl.”
“It’s obvious, huh?” KC asked. “Well, I guess blending in wasn’t really an option.”
A horn honked. A woman waved at KC from a Toyota 4x4.
“Esther’s here. I gotta split. Nice to meet you, Angie’s brother,” KC said, tugging Fat Angie away from Wang. “You wanna hang tomorrow? Esther’s gonna be at the tattoo studio most of the day. We’d have the casa all to ourselves. I’ve got a stellar collection of indie rock on vinyl. It is absolute ultra.”
“Yeah?” said Fat Angie.
“Coolness?” said KC. “What time —”
“No . . . um . . .” said Fat Angie. “I can’t. I mean, I want to . . . but I have to go to this baby . . . shower thing party with my mom. It’s a required family appearance.”
“Sweet, I’m in,” said KC.
“You wanna come to a baby shower party thing with me?”
“Oh, yeah. They always have the weirdest food. And the games. Have you ever played those jacked-out games?” said KC.
Fat Angie shook her head.
“Well, Esther’s got four very fertile sisters. So baby showers are like Super Bowl parties. Absurd-weird fun.”
“OK,” Fat Angie said.
“Sweet, we’re there,” said KC. “Call me.”
The buses lined up as KC slid into the truck. She flashed her right hand with pinky and thumb extended in “call me” mode.
“Hey,” said Wang.
“I gotta get on the bus,” Fat Angie said. “Since you never give me a ride.”
“Anyway. What’s the KC story?” said Wang.
“Like I would tell you?”
He shook his head. “Tell me or I’ll stuff your toothpaste with Monistat again.”
“She’s new,” said Fat Angie flatly.
“Duh. But what’s her deal? Why is she so interested in you?”
“Because I’m a nice person,” Fat Angie said. “You used to remember that before you went jerkface to me at school.”
“Whatev . . .” He laughed. “Just remember, yo. No amount of new-girl cool is gonna make anyone forget your pep rally slash and thrash.”
“F you,” she said.
“
Oooo.
Another failed attempt at foul
“Esther is always on about marketing being the devil,” said KC. “And maybe I mostly see her POV but don’t tell her.”
Fat Angie nodded. She was good at nodding.
“There’s just more to
you
than how you look,” KC said, biting into the second Swiss Roll. “It’s more than a package.”
Fat Angie tugged once again on her jeans. They were camel-toeing again.
“But packages. I mean, if they’re not all diabetes inducing,” said Fat Angie, “they’re kinda still important. Like . . .”
KC listened. Fat Angie struggled with such focused attention.
“Is it because no one treats you weird that you’re not afraid to be who you are?” Fat Angie asked.
“I don’t know,” said KC. “I mean, I just moved here, so the level of weird is still relative to the level of mystery. Things weren’t as easy back in the Hills.”
“But you just said people thought you were pretty.”
“They did,” said KC, outlining an invisible heart with the toe of her boot. “Why are you the way you are?”
“Kinda by default,” said Fat Angie. “And a host of mood-stabilizing drugs. Besides. Everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
“OK, prescription drugs aside. What do
you
think?” KC asked.
The moment was clear. There. Vulnerability. Trust. Fat Angie had discussed the topic with her therapist to some length.
“I don’t think people wanna see me,”
Fat Angie had said.
“I don’t think they understand me.”
The therapist had made a note:
Potential borderline personality disorder with inability to take risks.
“I don’t know what I think,” said Fat Angie. “I guess I think that I’m —”
Wang slammed into Fat Angie and knocked her off balance.
“Oops,” said Wang.
He sized up the sultry KC.
“Yo, hey.” Wang bit into an apple.
“Hey,” said KC.
“This is Wang,” said Angie. “My adopted brother.”
“So . . .” Wang said, grinning ear to big ear. “You’re the new girl.”
“It’s obvious, huh?” KC asked. “Well, I guess blending in wasn’t really an option.”
A horn honked. A woman waved at KC from a Toyota 4x4.
“Esther’s here. I gotta split. Nice to meet you, Angie’s brother,” KC said, tugging Fat Angie away from Wang. “You wanna hang tomorrow? Esther’s gonna be at the tattoo studio most of the day. We’d have the casa all to ourselves. I’ve got a stellar collection of indie rock on vinyl. It is absolute ultra.”
“Yeah?” said Fat Angie.
“Coolness?” said KC. “What time —”
“No . . . um . . .” said Fat Angie. “I can’t. I mean, I want to . . . but I have to go to this baby . . . shower thing party with my mom. It’s a required family appearance.”
“Sweet, I’m in,” said KC.
“You wanna come to a baby shower party thing with me?”
“Oh, yeah. They always have the weirdest food. And the games. Have you ever played those jacked-out games?” said KC.
Fat Angie shook her head.
“Well, Esther’s got four very fertile sisters. So baby showers are like Super Bowl parties. Absurd-weird fun.”
“OK,” Fat Angie said.
“Sweet, we’re there,” said KC. “Call me.”
The buses lined up as KC slid into the truck. She flashed her right hand with pinky and thumb extended in “call me” mode.
“Hey,” said Wang.
“I gotta get on the bus,” Fat Angie said. “Since you never give me a ride.”
“Anyway. What’s the KC story?” said Wang.
“Like I would tell you?”
He shook his head. “Tell me or I’ll stuff your toothpaste with Monistat again.”
“She’s new,” said Fat Angie flatly.
“Duh. But what’s her deal? Why is she so interested in you?”
“Because I’m a nice person,” Fat Angie said. “You used to remember that before you went jerkface to me at school.”
“Whatev . . .” He laughed. “Just remember, yo. No amount of new-girl cool is gonna make anyone forget your pep rally slash and thrash.”
“F you,” she said.
“
Oooo.
Another failed attempt at foul
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