Status: On hiatus - don't know if it'll ever be finished tbh
Fat
Friday January 12
Marissa came to see me today. It’s odd; it’s the second time in a week that she’s come round. Usually I only get to see her twice; maybe a few times a year, so when she turned up on my doorstep at 10am today, just after my parents left for work, I was curious and more than a little worried of what her intensions might’ve been. I know she knew something was up with me on Sunday, and I figured she was here to try and get me to spill out whatever was wrong.
She said, “Caleb! Come on, we’re going to Gloria Jeans, I need a coffee fix and we didn’t really get much of a chance to catch up the other day”.
As soon as she said the name of that shop, I knew it was a bad idea. Marissa knows how much I love LOVED Gloria Jeans.
I whined about not wanting coffee and asked her if she could just get her coffee fix here but she wouldn’t hear it. She practically dragged me out of the house, and drove us to the shop in record time.
“Go find a seat, Cale, I’ll grab the coffees”.
So I did, even though I was dreading the questioning to come.
She came back with two enormous, take-away coffee cups and set one down in front of me. A Caramelatte. My favourite.
“Your favourite, right, Cale?”
I just nodded and looked at my lap. I didn’t want to make eye contact. It would’ve started the questions earlier than necessary, even though they didn’t take long to start up anyway.
She kept asking me what was wrong, in a number of different ways. I didn’t want to answer. She bugged me about it for ages, until I finally told her to leave me alone, and she shut up.
She also made me drink the whole Caramelatte, which made me feel sick to my stomach, and I made myself throw up in the bathroom at Gloria Jeans before we left to go back home. I couldn’t have that caramelly sweet coffee swirling around in my insides during the car trip home and sticking to me and making me fatter.
I pretended I was sick when we got home, and Marissa left, promising me, with a sad look in her eyes, that she’d call me soon.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and cried. I don’t even know why. Every little thing seems to make me cry these days. Maybe I’m just pathetic like that.
She said, “Caleb! Come on, we’re going to Gloria Jeans, I need a coffee fix and we didn’t really get much of a chance to catch up the other day”.
As soon as she said the name of that shop, I knew it was a bad idea. Marissa knows how much I love LOVED Gloria Jeans.
I whined about not wanting coffee and asked her if she could just get her coffee fix here but she wouldn’t hear it. She practically dragged me out of the house, and drove us to the shop in record time.
“Go find a seat, Cale, I’ll grab the coffees”.
So I did, even though I was dreading the questioning to come.
She came back with two enormous, take-away coffee cups and set one down in front of me. A Caramelatte. My favourite.
“Your favourite, right, Cale?”
I just nodded and looked at my lap. I didn’t want to make eye contact. It would’ve started the questions earlier than necessary, even though they didn’t take long to start up anyway.
She kept asking me what was wrong, in a number of different ways. I didn’t want to answer. She bugged me about it for ages, until I finally told her to leave me alone, and she shut up.
She also made me drink the whole Caramelatte, which made me feel sick to my stomach, and I made myself throw up in the bathroom at Gloria Jeans before we left to go back home. I couldn’t have that caramelly sweet coffee swirling around in my insides during the car trip home and sticking to me and making me fatter.
I pretended I was sick when we got home, and Marissa left, promising me, with a sad look in her eyes, that she’d call me soon.
I went upstairs to my bedroom and cried. I don’t even know why. Every little thing seems to make me cry these days. Maybe I’m just pathetic like that.
♠ ♠ ♠
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