Ava XOX

by Carol Weston

  “I’m not blaming or shaming,” she said, “just sharing vital info. When it comes to weight, there’s no magic pill, no one-size-fits-all advice.” She said that kids have different body types and grow at different rates, and that some have “an easier relationship” with food than others, but we should all cut back on meat and sugar. She also said what Dad had said: that it doesn’t help that food that is good for you costs more than food that is bad for you.

  Soon it was time for questions, but I kept my head down, because the last thing I wanted was for more people to look at me.

  A girl asked about anorexia, and the nurse practitioner said it is a serious disease, because if you don’t eat enough, you can literally starve to death. She said bulimia is “life-threatening” too, because if you barf up your food, it can mess up your whole system, “even the back of your teeth.” (She didn’t say “barf”; she said “purge.”) A sixth grader asked about skipping lunch, and she said, “It’s better to have a glass of milk and a piece of whole wheat bread than nothing at all.

  “Listen,” she said, looking out at us. “I get that this can be tricky. Adults can say, ‘Don’t smoke’ and ‘Don’t do drugs,’ but no one can say, ‘Don’t eat.’ You need to eat! So you have to learn to be sensible about it. If you need help, get help.”

  The therapist with the hitched-up pant leg took back the mike again. “I want to add that there’s not a ‘fine line’ between underweight or overweight. The majority of kids are in the middle.” He looked out at us and nodded as if proving his own point. “And the goal is not to be thin—it’s to be healthy and active and self-accepting.”

  I thought that was the end, but he said, “By the way, your principal told me you’ve been studying Botero.” I could feel myself tensing up, and the whole room got a little extra quiet. Why was he reminding us of last week’s disaster—not that anyone had forgotten? “Well, you might find it interesting that centuries ago,” he continued, “if someone was curvy, that was prestigious. It was a sign of wealth! It meant that person wasn’t going hungry. The painting The Three Graces by Rubens shows three very full-figured women.”

  For a second, I wondered if he was going to whip out a naked ladies art poster. But he didn’t, and soon Principal Gupta hopped up and thanked both speakers. We all clapped, and as we filed out, Mr. Ramirez put the “Respect” song back on.

  I bet I’ll be spelling that word in my head for a long time.

  A.V.A.W.R.E.N.

  PS After school, I saw Lacey by the buses. She did not look at me respectfully. She gave me what Uncle Patrick calls “the hairy eyeball.” So I tried to ignore her. Like the lion in the fable did to the a_ _.

  2/23

  BEDTIME

  DEAR DIARY,

  Maybelle called, and we talked about the assembly. She said, “Maybe I’m lucky, but I don’t really get tempted to eat way too little or way too much.”

  “Same,” I said. “Except on Halloween. Or when a tray of cookies is coming out of the oven.”

  “Kelli said her mom is a ‘fitness nut,’” Maybelle said. “She spends entire mornings or afternoons at the gym—and she’s not a professional athlete or anything.”

  I tried to picture Candi running on a treadmill for hours on end.

  Maybelle continued. “My parents say, ‘Everything in moderation, including moderation.’”

  “I like that,” I said. And then I allllllmost told her I also like Chuck—but I didn’t.

  AVA THE MODERATE

  2/24

  EARLY MORNING

  DEAR DIARY,

  Dad showed me a funny sentence on his computer: “English is weird. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.” I asked him to print it out so I could show it to Mrs. Lemons.

  We started talking about all the ways to pronounce ough and about silent letters in general. Like the d in handsome, or b in dumb, or l in salmon, or t in castle.

  Or the g in gnat and gnu and gnaw.

  Or the k in knife or knickknacks and knock-knock jokes.

  I wanted to tell Dad a knock-knock joke, but I couldn’t think of one because, well, I haven’t heard any new ones in a while.

  AVA WREN (WITH A SILENT W)

  2/24

  BEFORE DINNER

  DEAR DIARY,

  Dad needed eggs, so I went with him to the grocery store. I grabbed some cans of chicken soup, but then I read the label, and there was so much sodium (salt) and so many strange-sounding chemicals that the ingredients sounded like a practice list for a spelling bee.

  I put the cans back and picked out a different brand.

  We were about to leave when I saw Chuck in the produce aisle! He was with his mom, so at first, I kept my distance. But then his very tall mom started talking to the very short butcher, so I gave Chuck a wave, and he walked over.

  I felt a little nervous and blurted, “I have a joke,” even though he’s usually the one with the jokes. “What word becomes shorter when you add two letters to it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What word becomes shorter when you add two letters to it?” I repeated.

  After a few seconds, he said, “I give up.”

  “Short! Get it? SHORT + ER = SHORTER!”

  He laughed, and we talked about yesterday’s assembly.

  Suddenly my heart started beating. “Chuck?” I said. “Speaking of R-E-S-P-E-C-T, when Kelli told you that Tanya could model for that Botero guy, that wasn’t very nice. And Tanya was right there.”

  Chuck didn’t say anything.

  “Do you really like her?” I asked softly. “Like like-like?” I couldn’t believe I was asking him this. It’s one thing for me to ask this question over and over in my head, but another to ask him out loud. “You two have been going out for sixteen days.”

  Omigod!! Now he knew I’d been counting!! I wanted to stay quiet, but more words came flying out. I wondered if I was putting my cards on the table (instead of holding them close to my chest). “I know it’s none of my business,” I said, “but not minding my own business might be one of my weaknesses. And I’m still sort of surprised that you two are boyfriend-girlfriend.”

  Part of me wanted to go racing down the aisle and dive behind the display of organic pancake mix. But another part wanted to hear his answer.

  “Me too,” he mumbled.

  “Wait. You’re sort of surprised that you two are going out?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither,” he said. “It all happened so fast!”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Everything! One minute, I was on the bus, starving because I’d overslept. The next, Kelli offered me banana bread, so I took some. And suddenly we were in homeroom, and she was asking if I wanted to go out, and I don’t know… I think I checked the circle because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  He was looking at his sneakers, but I was looking at his face, his cheeks and nose and eyelashes. If I were older, I probably would have given him a hug or something.

  “But what about your feelings?”

  He gave a tiny nod. “She does call our house a lot. Like twice a day. My mom doesn’t like it.” He looked over at his mom. “I tell her it’s about homework—but sometimes I just say, ‘Mom, don’t pick up,’ because I don’t always want to talk.” He looked back at me and added, “Kelli always wants to talk. Especially about her dog.”

  “Snuggles,” I offered.

  “Snuggles,” Chuck repeated. His eyes were soft and brown. “And she always wants us to sit together. Like every chance there is.”

  He was frowning, but I wanted to do a happy dance right there in front of the lemons and limes. If I knew how to juggle, I might have been tempted to juggle the lemons and limes and clementines, all while balancing on a watermelon.

  “Maybe you could t
ell Kelli that your mom figured out that her calls weren’t about homework, and she got mad and she’s making you break up?” Omigod, I thought. Did I really just say that?

  “I don’t know,” Chuck mumbled.

  “All I mean is, you checked a circle. You didn’t sign a contract in blood.”

  “True.” He looked like he was considering this. “Ava, you know what you said about not minding your own business?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think that’s a weakness.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Maybe sometimes it’s the opposite. Maybe sometimes, it’s a…strength.”

  I almost said that STRENGTH is a cool word because it has eight letters and only one is a vowel. Instead I told that part of my brain to SHUT UP. “Chuck,” I said, “just remember that your feelings count too.”

  I hoped it wasn’t dumb of me to be giving advice when I’m not a psychotherapist and my advice isn’t always right.

  Then again, what are “friends” for?

  Just then, his very tall mom came over with her cart, so I said hello—and good-bye.

  AVA, OUTSPOKEN?

  2/25

  BARELY AWAKE

  DEAR DIARY,

  Did that conversation really happen? Or was it a dream? I think it really happened, but I also feel like I dreamed it…

  Oh. Wait. Now I remember. I dreamed that Chuck and I were at a bank! We were laughing and putting coins in a sorting machine, but it was more like a vending machine, and packs of gum and gummy bears (!) kept flying out.

  Dreams are funny, right?

  G-T-G. Got to go to school!

  AVA, DREAMY

  2/25

  IN THE LIBRARY

  DEAR DIARY,

  After FLASH, Ms. Sickle said, “That assembly stirred up an important conversation,” and asked if I had another copy of my tips.

  “Right here,” I replied and pointed to the page in my diary.

  “Great!” she said, reaching for my diary. “I can type it for you if you like.”

  “I’ll copy it over!” I said, because I was not about to hand her my diary.

  “Even better,” she said and gave me poster board and a Sharpie.

  I said I’d do it in the library during study hall.

  “And maybe just leave off the title this time?” she suggested.

  Duh! I thought, but said, “Okay.” I did not add that I’d probably never use the word fat again for the rest of my life. I’d probably never even say “bacon fat.”

  I’m now in the library making some changes to my list. I even decided to add a new tip: “Try to be positive and not let other people make you feel bad.” Mr. Ramirez peeked over my shoulder, so I asked him if he thought I should add that.

  “Sure.” He smiled. “Ava, I wish I’d had this list when I was a kid.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  He nodded. “My aunt called me ‘Chunky.’ A few kids at school called me ‘Fatty’ and ‘Fatso.’ It was bad. I was glad when I finally figured out that for me, doughnuts and McDonald’s weren’t worth it. And also when I figured out I should steer clear of idiots and start hanging out with the people who were interested in what I was interested in.”

  I noticed that Mr. Ramirez wasn’t skinny, just regular. Or, as that bow tie guy put it, “in the middle.”

  “When’s your wedding?” I asked, because we’re all excited that he and his boyfriend are “tying the knot.”

  “End of the school year. June 19.”

  “Cool,” I said. “I bet it will be fun.”

  He smiled. “We’re going over lots of details right now. The menu, the band, the flowers, the rings.”

  I nodded, even though I’d never thought about the work behind a wedding.

  “Mr. Ramirez, do you think I might be a little bit sizist?”

  “Sizist?”

  “Mackie said that’s when you judge people by how much they weigh.”

  He considered this. “I suppose a lot of people are judgmental about one thing or another. But with obesity, it’s almost not fair.”

  “What’s not fair?”

  “Well, many people have secret problems, like addiction or gambling, and you’d never know it just by looking at them. Obesity is there for the whole world to see. But it doesn’t help when someone wags a finger.”

  “Wags a finger?”

  “Scolds, reprimands, criticizes.” He put on a fake frown and wagged his finger up and down, which made us both laugh. “Anyway, Ava, I know you realize it isn’t ‘fat’ versus ‘skinny’—it’s healthy versus unhealthy.”

  I like that Mr. Ramirez talks to me like we are two thinking people, not one smart grown-up and one dumb kid. But I might be dumber than he thinks.

  I reread my list and was about to write “Weight Loss Tips” at the top. But what if a girl had an eating disorder and was starving herself? Telling her to drink zero-calorie water and to eat less would be horrible advice. I was beginning to see why there were so many books on this subject. And so many contradictory messages!

  I made a few more changes and finally finished the new version and copied it over. On the top, I wrote “Take Care of Yourself.” I rolled up the poster and shoved it in my backpack. It stuck out a little, but that didn’t matter, because I was about to hand it to Ms. Sickle.

  AVA, NOT A REAL AUTHOR OR AUTHORITY (BUT NOT A BAD PERSON EITHER)

  PS I’m going to ask Pip to take a photo of it so I can print it out and tape it in here.

  TAKE CARE OF

  YOURSELF

  Want to feel great?

  What’s on your plate?

  Also try to think

  About what you drink.

  1. Drink H20—it’s free and is good for you.

  2. Exercise more than you did before. (A rhyme!)

  3. Be colorful. Enjoy red, orange, yellow, green, and purple vegetables and fruits.

  4. Slow down when you eat. It takes twenty minutes for your brain to figure out what your mouth has been up to.

  5. Watch your S’s. Cut back on Seconds, Sweets, junky Snacks, and Sugary Sodas.

  6. Watch your O’s. Cut back on FritOs, CheetOs, DoritOs, TostitOs, and OreOs.

  7. If you get tempted to overeat or binge on S’s or O’s, brush your teeth, chew sugarless gum, or nibble on fruit, veggies, or unbuttered popcorn.

  8. Find a workout buddy or go on walk-and-talks. You can also do sports or walk a dog.

  9. Try to be positive and not let other people make you feel bad.

  10. Congratulate yourself for taking care of yourself, one day at a time. Y-A-Y YOU!

  2/25

  AFTER DINNER

  DEAR DIARY,

  At dinner, Dad said he had a new palindrome for us: “As I pee, sir, I see Pisa.” (A-S-I-P-E-E-S-I-R-I-S-E-E-P-I-S-A). Pip laughed, and I pictured a tourist boy looking up at the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

  Mom scowled as if she didn’t think this was proper dinner conversation, but talking about sick or hurt pets might not be either, and she does that.

  Just last week, she told us about a cat that had diarrhea, and how the owner had to bring in a “fecal sample.” Pip said, “Frozen P-O-O-P?” and Dad said, “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

  I think one of the nice things about when it’s just our family is that it is okay to talk about absolutely everything. Like revised posters or frozen P-O-O-P or even forbidden crushes. (Not that I’ve talked to M-O-M or D-A-D about my new feelings for my old friend!)

  ABSOLUTELY AVA

  PS I wonder if Chuck is going to break up with Kelli. I wonder if it’s bad that I spend a lot of time wondering this.

  PPS Pip just came in and said, “Nothing is impossible,” and showed me that if you add a space and an apostrophe, you can change “IMPOSSIBLE” to “I’M POSSIB
LE.” I said, “H-U-H” and then I said that some things feel impossible.

  2/26

  BEFORE SCHOOL

  DEAR DIARY,

  Last night, Taco jumped onto my bed for a long purring session. He usually acts tough and independent, but sometimes even he likes to cuddle and be comforted.

  Question: Do tough people have soft sides too?

  Pip has lots of sides, and I see all of them. Before bed, I asked her if she had any art books with Rubens paintings. She said no but googled The Three Graces and up popped an oil painting of three large naked ladies.

  Pip read about the painting and said that Rubens painted it in 1639, and the women were supposed to be Zeus’s daughters, and the three graces are charm, beauty, and creativity.

  “H-U-H,” I said and told Pip that I’m not going to use the word fat ever again.

  “A nicer word is ‘zaftig.’”

  “Zaftig?”

  “Zaftig,” she repeated. “You can also say ‘Rubenesque.’ Think you can spell that?”

  I thought about it, then got it right. Pip said “W-O-W.”

  AVA ELLE, WHO CAN SPELL QUITE WELL

  2/26

  AFTER SCHOOL

  DEAR DIARY,

  In English, Chuck said he saw my poster. “It was as earnest and sincere as last time.”

  “And it’s not judgmental,” I said, because I liked my new title and because judgmental was about to be on our spelling test. Then I showed Chuck that the “preferred” spelling of judgmental has only one e, not two. “Same as acknowledgments. No e after the dg.” I wrote both words out.

  Guess what? We took our test, and he got both words right! So he got an 80!