Gabby
"How do I look?" I turn to Camille who is dangling off of my bed, long legs in the air. She flips around to her stomach and peers at me with a grin.
"Pretty woman! Where'd you get the dress? I want!"
My grin falters, my cheeks heating up. I don't want to tell Camille that it's a plus sized dress. She's the epitome of a cheerleader with long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, a killer tan, toned legs and abs, and perky breasts. She's so beautiful sometimes it's hard to believe she chose to be friends with me.
"Hollister." I lie, instantly regretting it. She knows I'd sooner be caught dead that shop at any store in which even the underwear costs less than a hundred dollars. Seriously, Gabby? Hollister? They don't even carry clothes in my size!
"Hmm...I'll have to look for it the next time I go." Camille flashes me an award winning smile, luckily oblivious to my lie. "You look killer, baby cakes. You excited?"
My stomach growls as a response. "Nervous." I give her a sheepish grin.
"Well, my sister said he's great. Super smart and cute. He's in her Women's Studies class."
Camille set me up with some random guy when she saw I was down in the dumps about dating. Leo hasn't exactly been knocking down my door since a few weeks ago in the Hamptons. Camille doesn't know about our tiny fling and I plan to keep it that way.
"So I should expect a lot of mansplaining." I roll my eyes but suppress a grin. Feminist guys are usually more open minded. Hopefully my blind date, Christopher, is because he's in for a shock when he sees what I look like.
I turn back to the mirror and study the stranger in front of me. She stands tallish at 5'6 and has eyes the color of freshly cut grass. Brown wavy hair pulled back in a bun with strands that frame her chubby cheeks and slight double chin. She has full lips that are painted red with lipstick and dark, arched brows. She has extra meat on her bones, but not disgustingly so. Enough, however, that guys tend to be turned off by it. She has a large chest and wide hips along with a bit of a tummy and thighs that touch. She doesn't mind though, because she feels beautiful. Big can be beautiful, especially when worn well.
I wasn't always plus sized. I used to be a gymnast. Then, in the 8th grade, I tore my ACL and never quite recovered. The pounds just kept coming, and then I became who I am now. "Flabby Gabby" as my peers so delicately put it.
"You're gonna be late!" Camille giggles, forcing me out of my thoughts. "Go get him, Tiger."
I give my best friend a kiss on the cheek, staining it with a red lip print. "Thanks for doing my makeup!" I shout as I rush out of her room and down the stairs. Once I'm out of the house I wobble to my baby, a scarlet Mercedes Convertible. I live in an affluent town and my family is no exception. My father is a CEO at a tech company, Hampton Enterprises, and as a result I have been lucky enough to live a life of luxury. So yeah, I may be chubby, but my trust fund alone is worth more than most people make in a lifetime.
I drive to the restaurant that Christopher and I have agreed to meet at. After I hand my keys to the valet, I take a moment to readjust myself before going into the ostentatious building. I flatten out my red mini dress that is fitted in the bosom but flares out at my waist, making me look tinier than I am. The designer heels that Camille loaned me make me a few inches taller and my short legs look long. My hair is in a delicate bun with wisps of curled stands framing my face. I re-apply a coat of my red lipstick and decide that it's now or never. I walk up the marble stairs and through the double doors, into one of the most prestigious buildings in Manhattan.
When I text Christopher that I've arrived, he texts back immediately, telling me that he's in the back wearing a suit with blond hair. I roll my eyes. How descriptive. Still, I begin my descent to the back of the restaurant and eventually spot him. He's very good looking, there's no doubt about it. With cropped, neat hair and a chiseled jaw, he ticks off two very important boxes in what I look for in a guy. When he spots me, I get a glimpse of his baby blues and my heart does a happy dance. He's so handsome.
He gives me a wide grin and gestures me over.
"Gabrielle?" He questions, his voice husky. I swoon.
"You can call me Gabby, if you want." My voice is quiet and timid. His grin grows even wider.
"Sit, please." He stands and rushes around the table to pull my chair out for me. Handsome, sweet, and a gentleman? Swoon!
Once he has settled back in his own chair, he gives me a once over. The restaurant lights are dimly lit, which is good for me because harsh light makes me look horrible.
"You're nothing like how I imagined you." He finally says, leaning back into his chair a bit. My heart sinks. Maybe he's not a gentleman.
"Oh." Is all I can say.
"No, no, don't take it the wrong way." His brows furrow and he looks genuinely concerned that I have my feelings hurt. Double swoon! "I just meant, you look older. More mature."
The waiter comes to take our drink orders. I get an iced tea and Christopher gets a water. Of course, how else could he maintain such a chiseled physique?
"So, what brings you on this blind date?" His smile is almost too perfect--there's no way he hasn't had some dental work done. "I just got out of a long relationship. She was a little older, actually. Out of college. I guess it's maybe weird that I'm going from older to younger, but life has a funny way of taking us where we need to go."
I nod, blushing. "I agree. I...don't have much experience with boys, actually. Men. There was this one guy, it was a summer thing. I really liked him and he said he really liked me, but...I don't know. He let things get in the way and we drifted apart."
"His loss."
We talk and talk and talk some more.
He likes everything that I like. He loves charity and animals and swimming. He totally looks like a swimmer. He's only been in one serious relationship and is only just now getting back on the market because his ex really hurt him. He's the oldest of three. He's the heir to the Kingston Electronics company. He goes to college, not because he needs to, but because he has a thirst for knowledge. He'll be 22 in March.
By the time we've finished dinner, I feel like I know everything about him and more. And I love everything that he's told me. He picks up the bill and pays, a wicked smile playing at his lips.
"You were great company, love." He smiles, gazing at me from across the table. I'm over the moon. I had such low expectations for this date and here I was being swooned by an attractive, intelligent, charismatic man.
"So were you." I give him my sultriest smile, hoping I don't have any lipstick on my teeth.
"Do you want to come home with me?"
I freeze, blood running cold. "What?"
"I have a townhouse on the Upper East Side. It's really beautiful, all windows. I'd love to make love to you as we look down on the city."
I feel like vomiting. And then he puts the final nail in his coffin.
"I've never been with a fat girl before."
I take what's left of my drink and pour it on him. People turn to stare, but I don't care.
"Asshole." I hiss. "You've never been with a fat girl and you never will. Fuck you."
With that I turn and rush out of the building, hobble down the stairs, and wait for the valet to bring my car around. I'm crying so hard by the time I spot my Mercedes that my makeup has to be ruined. Of course that was all I was to him. A new notch on the belt.
A fat girl. A fetish. A new experience. Something to try but never tell anyone about.
I remember, now more than ever, what my mom told me before she left me and dad. "Fat girls have to settle, darling. They don't get Prince Charmings. They get the boys that aren't in the fairy tales. You'll simply have to accept that."
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GABBY
"He said he'd never been with a fat girl!" I gush into my bowl of ice cream, avoiding eye contact with Camille at all costs. It's been a day since the Christopher fiasco, and we're sitting in my room eating my feelings.
"What a douche! I'm so sorry, Gabby! My sister said he seemed sweet!"
"Well he wasn't!" I wail, completely aware that I'm throwing a temper tantrum and not caring at all. "I'm so sick of guys either not wanting me at all or fetishizing me!"
Camille looks lost, unsure of what to say. "You're beautiful." She finally utters. "And when it comes down to it, you only need one guy. One awesome ass guy. He's gonna be so hot and sweet and nice and funny! There are billions of people in the world, Gabs. One of them has to be your soul mate. You're gonna find him."
I thought, even if for an instant, that could have been Leo. But who was I kidding?
I sniff, suddenly aware that I've been crying. "Sorry." I whisper, wiping snot off of my nose. "I'm such a cry baby."
"Don't be sorry, babe. Keep your fricking chin up! We're going out tonight."
"We're not." I groan, setting my ice cream aside and putting my face in my hands. "The last time we went 'out' I got so drunk that I puked all over my three thousand dollar dress. Or do you not remember? Janice only grounded me for three million years."
Janice is my stepmom whom I love more than my own mother and am not ashamed to admit. She's been more of a mom to me than my real mother had ever been, even if Janice can be super strict. At least she's there for me, which was more than I could say for birth mama who tried to squeeze all of the money she could out of dad and then left him and me out to dry. It broke dad's heart but Janice was way better and helped him heal.
"Speaking of Janice, where is she?" Camille blows air out of her cheeks, sending some strands of her blond hair flying. "She usually brings up treats when I'm here."
"She and dad are in Italy." I shrug. "They're celebrating their three years."
"Oh my gosh!" Camille swooned. "Goals."
"Right?"
"Wait! That means you can go out and not get in trouble!"
I let out a huge, exaggerated groan. "No!"
Camille scoots close to me and gets on her knees, clasping her hands together and raising them to me. "Please! It's Emily's back to school party! This will be the last one ever, Gabs! And then we go to college! Don't you want to go?"
I scoff. "And see the assholes that call me Flabby Gabby? Frankly, Camille, summer wasn't long enough. I think I'd need a few thousand years to willingly sit in a room with those jerks ever again."
Camille gives me an eye roll. "Please, Gabby!" She whines and then, quieter, "Leo is gonna be there. I want to see him."
I roll my eyes, knowing full and well that Leo Hamilton would be at any party thrown. He's a borderline alcoholic that would sooner die than pass up a good party. My heart starts beating rapidly at the thought of seeing him tonight. Then I feel bad because I know Camille is head over heels for the guy.
Camille didn't want to like him but, like every other girl in Manhattan, she's under his spell. I couldn't blame her--Leo was something special. The month we shared in the Hamptons...well, it's hard for any girl to resist him. No matter how hard they try.
"I know you don't like him, Gabs. If you want me to stop hooking up with him, I will." Camille frowns, giving me her doe-eyed, deer in headlights look. She really is a good friend, but I'm not so sure she'd be willing to give up Leo for me. They've been hooking up since the beginning of August, right after we got back from the Hamptons, proving that Leo really did not care about me at all and was trying to get in my pants. I want to hate him for it. I really do.
"Don't stop on my account." I roll my eyes but give her a grin. "The heart wants what the heart wants."
Camille lets out a happy squeal and dances around my room in such a silly way that I can't help but giggle. She pauses, whirling around to face me. "So, you'll go?"
"God, Camille, even if I say no, you're going to make me."
Camille juts her hip out and places a hand on it, striking a sassy pose. "You're damn right, honey." She grins. "Now let's get you party-ready..."
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LEO
'C u tonight b <3' the text from Camille reads. I shove my phone in my back pocket, turning back to Emily.
"Who was that?" She questions, cocking her head to the side.
"My mom." The lie rolls easily off my tongue. "She needs me home in a few minutes."
"Oh!" Emily nods, buying into the lie with pathetic eagerness. "You're coming to my party tonight, right?"
I give her a curt nod and her face lights up like a Christmas tree. I almost feel bad that I feel nothing towards the strawberry blond perched in front of me, but then I remind myself that she knows I don't want anything exclusive. She told me that she doesn't either. The silence goes on for a bit too long and I grow uncomfortable.
"I have to go."
"Okay!" Emily chirps, an oblivious smile pasted on her beautiful face. "You'll call me?"
"Yes."
"See you tonight?"
"Yes. See you."
"Bye!"
I lift myself off the pool chair and slip my shirt back on. I wrap a towel around my swim trunks and give Emily one final farewell. After that, I walk at a comfortable pace back to my house across the street.
When I get there, mom is talking to Henrietta.
"I really appreciate your waxing the floors, but really, don't worry about it." She gives Henrietta a delicate smile. I notice the purple undertone of her skin right under her eye and my heart starts beating fast. He must be home. He isn't supposed to be back from Japan for another two weeks. I want to punch something. I stayed over at Emily's last night. I should have been here for mom, he wouldn't have hit her if I'd just been here...
"Hello my darling!" Mom rushes over to me and pulls me into a hug. Henrietta watches her with worried eyes. I wonder if she knows what's going on. I hope she does. Maybe she'll have the guts to do what I can't: call the cops on him.
"Hey, mama."
"Where were you, love?"
"I stayed at Tony's." I lie again.
Sometimes lying is more real to me than the truth is.
Mom beams at me. "He's a very good influence."
I nod in agreement.
"Hi, Henrietta." I peek over mom to the short, stout woman in front of me. She blushes crimson and gives me a feeble nod.
"I'm going to my room," I inform the two of them and then begin my journey. I live in the kind of house that has an East Wing and a West Wing if that's any indication of how fucking over the top rich my family is. My phone beeps just as a reach my room. It's a text from Camille.
'BTW, Gabby is coming!!! Play nice b <3'
I let out an audible groan. Gabrielle Hampton is decidedly the last person I want to see, and I've been making a point to avoid her. Ever since our families went on vacation together in the Hamptons I haven't been able to get her out of my mind. And I need to--I really do. While she might be attractive to me, she is most definitely not attractive to the rest of my peers.
In the Hamptons, when there was no one else around, I let myself fall for her. Once I got back and hung out with my friends, the spell was broken. I could never be with a girl like Gabby. Even if I wanted to.
I throw my phone on my bed and plop down onto it, letting out a loud sigh, picturing the full-figured girl that has been occupying my mind. I remember it like it was yesterday.
He was in Italy, so it was just Mom and me. She took us to our vacation home in the Hamptons so we could "bond" for the summer. I tried to bring Kerri, my on again off again girlfriend, but mom insisted it would be "just us." Little did I know that she'd invited her best friend, Gabby's stepmom, and her family. Gabby and her brother and two sisters came to stay with us. It was the worst and best summer I'd ever had. I went through Gabby's sisters pretty quickly; they were my type. Blond hair, blue eyes, curves in all of the right places, zero percent body fat...
Gabby wasn't like that. She had meat on her bones, though she wore it pretty well. There was one day in particular that I first found, to my surprise, myself being attracted to her.
I was sitting by the pool, watching the game via the projector. Flowy white curtains were cloaked on columns around the patio, so it made a perfect home theatre for me to set up my projector and relax. I heard a glass door slide shut and Gabby emerged from the curtains, pushing them aside and ruining my homemade television. I was about to snap at her, but once I got a proper glance, all angry thoughts were forgotten.
She wore a skimpy black one-piece with her hair in two french braids. She had red lipstick on her pouty lips that contrasted nicely with her golden tan. Her bosom rose and fell rapidly as if she'd just ran a marathon, and I couldn't stop staring at the rhythmic heaving. Her breasts were large and soft looking, her skin so smooth and untainted. Her suit accentuated her hourglass figure and was a bit tight around her tummy. It looked soft but firm in a way that lit something in me on fire. I looked away before she got the wrong idea. I could admire, but I would never touch.
Once she spotted me she froze and rolled her eyes. And with that simple gesture, she has reeled me in and I am intoxicated by her.
"Yeah, let's all just look at how fat Flabby Gabby is, huh?" She put her hands on her hips sassily. She had fire in her, and I loved it. I forgot that the name Flabby Gabby was one that I coined for her. I immediately felt horrible for making it. If all the girls wore flab this well, I wouldn't mind a little extra fat one bit.
"You look beautiful," I tell her truthfully. Her eyes widen as if she can't believe what she's hearing. She probably can't. She has no reason to--I've never been anything but mean to her before today.
To my surprise, she walks over to where I'm sitting and perches herself right next to me. And then I'm a goner.