Chapter 1: Same Ole, Same Ole

Evelyn Bates is a self-proclaimed misfit. Her mother is more interested in finding her next date. Her only friend is moving on. The apartment is lonely, her life is lonely, on yeah, and she's fat! Evelyn fantasized about a world where she isn't fat and had everything she wanted- popularity, a hot boyfriend, a mom and dad.
This isn't a "happily ever after" story but a "be careful what you wish for" story as Evelyn struggles with what she really wants vs what she needs

Chapter 1: Same Ole, Same Ole

Evelyn Bates sat on the wet curb, wet from the melting snow. She missed the bus–again. It was becoming a habit for her; two weeks into her junior year and she still managed to miss the bus at least. Evelyn shoved her hands into her jacket and sighed. Every day she, she told herself, it would get better. This year wont be like last year, or the year before that, or the year before that, but she was beginning to see the same pattern forming. She had refused the ride offered by the Tillings again and again because she had to learn to make it on her own. She couldn’t expect them to drive across town to pick her up every day like she was some charity case. Like she didn’t have a family. This was supposed to be the year to prove that despite...

yet here she was, on the curb across town from school, and an hour from her fourth detention in two weeks. Not good, Evelyn, she scolded herself half heartedly. Not good.

With a huge sigh, she came to her feet; it was time to walk. Again. Her mother would be just so proud of her, she thought wryly. Evelyn had always struggled with her weight. “Birthing you almost split me in two!” was her mother’s go-to story. Her mother who was tiny and petite, and had always looked so dainty and birdlike. If her mother was a bird, then Evelyn was a hippo.

Evelyn trudged down the sidewalk already starting to feel the chill of sweat beginning to saturate her shirt beneath her jacket. It had been raining all weekend and supposed to shower off and on all day.  

Every time she walked into a brand named store with her mother, the looks from the employees said it all: "is she in the right store?" "Do we have her size, I wonder?" Evelyn's full cheeks would color under their scrutiny, trying to disappear behind her mother who stood three inches shorter than her feeling so uncomfortable until her mother decided it was time to leave. She could hear the other girls talk about her at school. She knew why boys wouldn't look twice at her.

Evelyn often wore her clothes loose. It was a trick, she had found. Every time she looked in the mirror, she didn't see her ugly body, she saw clothes. She blamed it on the clothes. Lookin’ a little big around the waist there, Evelyn. "it's the clothes." 

Her olive cargo pants were soaked at the hems and heavy by the time she made it to school. Her sneakers squeaked noisily in the empty hall, and her teeth chattered, rattling her head and jumbling her thoughts. She was exhausted and sore and sick, but that didn’t matter. She used to like watching her mother get dressed in the morning as a child. The way she held up one outfit to her small frame and then another, turning this way and that in the mirror. Her mother was who she aspired to be, aspired to look like. But even in that sense, the world conspired against her. Even if she lost weight and straightened her hair and wore nice clothes like her mother, she would never look a thing like her her. What was the point? Evelyn headed towards the office.

Warmth and greenery welcomed her and the slate grey carpet muffling her squelching shoes. Mrs. Morgan had potted plants and vases full of flowers and leafy plants all over the front office. The woman was southern born and raised. A mini tree the length of her arm sat beside her desk. Ivy crawled from pots to coil under the waiting seats. Always was there a sweet scent in the air. Mrs. Morgan was crazy, everyone said, but Evelyn liked the robust middle aged woman. She smelled like earth and always called her “baybeh” in a way that made her feel special.

Mrs. Morgan smiled sadly, "Again, baybeh?" she sighed at the slight nod Evelyn gave. "You know your gunna have to make up those missed hours, do you?"

"Yeah." Evelyn watched as the secretary pulled out a yellow slip of paper. Detention. She scribbled her signature then peeked over her glasses before holding it our to her.

Evelyn grasped it, but the secretary would not let go. "You need to catch that bus, even if you have to wake up and hour earlier. I believe in you, baybeh. Don’t let me down."

Mrs. Morgan said this every time. Every single time. It didn’t matter if Evelyn kept showing up late, the woman always gave the same words as if maybe this time, the words would stick. Evelyn slip the paper from her fingers gave an apologetic smile and left.

I’m sorry Mrs. Morgan, but you shouldn’t believe in me. I’ll just let you down again tomorrow.

 

(Author's note: I started this story in 2009 when I started 9th grade. It was REALLY rough, but I wrote 18 chapters and I don't want to just abandon it. I've been redoing the chapters and writing new ones)

The End

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