The question was more or less rhetorical but he straightened his
lanky posture with a feverish: “Are you kidding? You’re
gorgeous.”
I feigned modesty. Maybe I would give him a discount.
“Since you’ve started to fill out your body is amazing.”
“Fill out?”
“Yeah, you used to be so skinny, you looked like a crack whore but
now you’re getting shape and… why do you look so angry? This is a
compliment.”
“Get out.”
“But what about our conversation?”
“Get the hell out of my apartment!”
He left sheepishly and maybe it was just my foolish arrogance, but I
didn’t think he would tell anyone that I was in high school.
I went to my full-length mirror and discarded all my clothes. He was
right. I guess I didn’t notice it before. Nicky hadn’t dared say
anything. I had been able to count all my ribs and see all my veins
all my life so I was never looking for them. I was never thinking
about the measures that would indicate whether or not I was gaining
weight. So there I was, standing naked in front of my mirror, cursing
myself for getting fat when there’s a knock at the door.
It was rent day so I threw my clothes back on. They seemed tighter
now.
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