Stereotype

The lights were dimmed low as we walked through Hollister. The music could be heard from every room in the store and also the outside. The store’s signature perfume littered the clothes and took over my nostrils. Stacy had 3 shirts draped over her arm. They looked just about the same, but different neon colours. I didn’t bring that much money with me, which was a mistake since every shirt is over 20 dollars. An expensive, low quality shirt was worth more than a high quality shirt at a no name brand store.

I could barely see well because the lights were faint. I didn’t know if the shirt I was holding was nice looking or not. Stacy took a glimpse at the shirt and nodded in approval. I could never shop on my own if I was looking for an article of clothing that cheerleaders wear. I wasn’t a very good cheerleader and I knew it.

Stacy threw a dark blue shirt towards me and my right hand caught it. The shirt had white writing on the side saying ‘Hollister.’ I wasn’t surprised at the design, it’s what a lot of the shirts looked like. The shirt was an extra small and I was a bit undecided about it. I’m not an extra small and I don’t know if I’d be able to fit in this shirt.

“Go to the change room.” Stacy ordered. I grabbed a small just in case the extra small didn’t fit. The change room was dark too, just a single spotlight to light up the isolated area. I closed the door behind me and quickly stripped off my shirt. I put the extra small shirt over my head and looked into the mirror.

The sight disgusted me. This shirt was tight around my arms. There was fat lump coming from the ends of the sleeves. I touched the bump with my thumbs. I was imminently repulsed by it. My hand glided its way down my chest to my mid-section. I turned to my side and examined it. There was a lump forming near the end. I was getting fat. I squished the fat together with my hands and pulled it out. I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes drifting over my body and staring at the bulge in my stomach.

I wanted to cry at this scene. I didn’t want to be fat. The image in the mirror started to blow up like a balloon. I went from my normal 110 pound boy to a 200 pound body in a blink of an eye. I whipped the shirt off and inspected my body. My stomach still had that unattractive bump. I felt pregnant, but I knew I wasn’t. I touched my body, pulling the excess skin. It wasn’t just additional skin, it was flab. I had a six pack of flab and it ate me up inside.

“How is the shirt, Brooke? Come out and show me.” I came into reality when I heard Stacy’s voice. Panic took over body as I quickly looked for the small shirt.

“Just a second.” I call out. I put the small shirt over my head. I check in the mirror and smooth out the creases. I walk out of the change room and show her. She smiles at the sight.

“God, you’re so skinny. I mean, that’s an extra small, right? No wonder you’re a flyer.” Stacy says. She puts a hand to her stomach but she still keeps a smile plastered on her face. Her eyes gave her away because they showed signs of envy. Her smile slowly dropped as she scanned me over my figure. Her fingers started to squeeze her mid-section with each passing section.

“So, I’m going to get this shirt. Let me change, then we’ll go pay for it.” I said. There was an uncomfortable tension between us. Stacy nodded her head, breaking the tension. Slowly, she walked away while nodding her head. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I could easily guess that she was hurt.

Hurt of the fact that she can’t have my body. She can have my body; it’s nothing special compared to hers. Stacy had a good body. It was skinny, but there was meat on it. She had an hourglass shape, which gave her curves. Stacy had a great body and I was jealous of it. It was better than my own, but she won’t ever understand.

I quickly got dressed and met up with Stacy. She had a couple of shirts in her arms and was by the cashier. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded my head and followed her to the counter. I placed my purchase in front of the sales clerk to ring it up. The girl had her dark brown hair pulled up into a messy bun. The Employees here only had to wear one thing and it was the stores clothing. They looked like regular people.

“Is that everything?” she asked me. Her lips were overdosed in lip gloss. The girls ears dangled large hoop earrings. The girl had a fake smile on her lips.

“Yes.” I said to her. She rang up the shirt and it came out to $28 dollars. I took out the money from my leather wallet and put it on the counter, as she put the petit shirt into a bag. The brunette finalized the sale in a couple seconds, handing me the receipt.

“Have a nice day.” She said to me as I grabbed my bag. I gave her a quick smile and walked over to Stacy who was almost done with her purchase. The cashier serving Stacy didn’t wear a smile. She had short, boyish blonde hair cut. She was pretty; everyone that worked here was pretty. Something about her instantly brought my mood down.

Stacy grabbed her bags and we headed towards the store’s exit. I looked back at the girl with the short hair; she still had a frown on her face. She didn’t say anything to Stacy during the finalization of the sale. It was strange because most employees did. Our eyes locked on my way out. I sent her a smile as her brown eyes gazed into my own. I watched her, but she didn’t smile back. I walked out of the store with her frown reflected onto my own face.