The Fat Boy Chronicles

by Diane Lang

  Wednesday, 3–28

  Guess what, Sable just called and invited me over to her house on Friday night. She said we can just hang out and eat pizza—maybe we’ll practice our lines for Romeo and Juliet. Ha,ha. My sister heard me telling Mom about the phone call, and now she’s teasing me about having a girlfriend. She keeps asking me stupid questions, like what am I going to wear, am I going to bring her flowers, am I going to kiss her. I really shut her up when I told her I already kissed her. Later, my mom asked me about Sable, and I explained about the scene in Romeo and Juliet. My mom laughed and my sister wanted to know what was so funny, but we just ignored her, which made my sister have a mini–tantrum. Then Mom and I laughed even harder, and my sister got in trouble for saying Sable and I probably had sex. There’s no way that would ever happen, I mean we’re just friends.

  I wonder what kind of pizza she’s gonna have. I don’t eat pepperoni or sausage pizza anymore, just onion and green peppers. I wonder if I should say something about that, but I guess I don’t have to since Sable’s a vegetarian. And, then soft drinks. I don’t even drink those anymore, not even diet ones. Guess I sound a little crazy about my diet, but I’m determined to lose sixty pounds by the end of the school year. I’ve lost a total of forty–six pounds, only fourteen more to go.

  Thursday, 3–29

  My mom said I could get contacts, especially after what happened today. Most teachers don’t realize that the guys’ bathroom can be a battleground. Or a torture chamber. Not only because kids can pick on you, but because of all the smokers. At middle school they had teachers standing outside the bathrooms, and if they smelled smoke, they’d go in like a SWAT team. Here, the teachers stay as far away from the bathrooms as possible. I can’t say that I blame them, but with a school this big, the bathrooms can get pretty tough. Fights break out in there all the time, and kids can easily smoke and drink just about anything they want without getting caught. That’s why I never go in there during lunch periods. But yesterday I couldn’t wait, so I went in hoping no one would notice me. But guess who was in there? Nate and his henchmen. His English class just finished reading Lord of the Flies, so, you guessed it, Nate started in on me. “Hey, it’s Piggy,” he said.

  “He looks more like a scrawny turkey than a pig,” someone said.

  But Nate continued. “What are you doing back? I thought you fell off a cliff and they stuck your head on a stick.”

  “Didn’t you read the book?” I said. “It’s your head that gets stuck on the stick, not Piggy’s.”

  A couple of his friends laughed. I should have known better than to try and make Nate look stupid, because he shoved me into the wall so hard, my glasses fell off. Another kid “accidentally” stepped on them. “Oh look, Piggy broke his glasses,” he said. Then they ran out of the bathroom.

  It makes me more determined than ever to lose weight. Fourteen pounds, fourteen measly little pounds, and I will have reached my goal. Who’ll care about Nate and his thugs then? Not me.

  Dad and I are now running three miles every morning, and I’m up to level three on the Total Gym. My goal is to get to level six like my dad. I’m getting stronger all the time, so my dad thinks I’ll be up with him by summer.

  Saturday, 3–31

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  Sable’s little brother is really cool. He’s autistic and it doesn’t seem like he understands things, but I think he does. Sable and I hung around in her basement and played board hockey, and her brother kept trying to get Sable to leave and come upstairs with him. I think he was jealous that she had a friend over. But then I let him play Sable, and he was awesome. He kept winning, so she gave up, and then he and I played. Every time he scored a point, he jumped around the room, punching the air and barking. When we finished, Sable put in The Empire Strikes Back and Jason—that’s her brother’s name—would say the lines before the characters did. Sable said he’s memorized all the lines in every Star Wars movie. The kid is incredible.

  Sometimes he really bugs Sable. I mean, she loves him and all, but her parents give all their extra attention to him and expect her to do the same. That would really get to me, especially if it happened all the time. Sable finally yelled for her mother to get him. Her mother came downstairs with a veggie pizza, and Jason started yelling, “Give me pizza! Give me pizza!”

  Instead of taking him upstairs, his mother tore off a piece of our pizza and gave it to him. Sable was really steamed. “Why do you always give in to him?” she yelled. “He’ll never learn manners if you give him everything he wants.”

  Her mother looked really sad. “He doesn’t understand things like the rest of us,” she said. She practically had to drag Jason up the stairs because he didn’t want to leave. While Sable’s mom pulled him up the stairs, he threw the pizza on the beige carpet and then laughed about it. Sable was stuck cleaning up the mess. “He’s much smarter than my mom gives him credit for. He knows he can get away with murder around her, especially if he acts all stupid. But he knows what he’s doing. He acts different around me, but he’s got Mom trained.”

  “Have you told your mom?” I asked.

  “Yes, but she doesn’t listen to anybody. She feels guilty about Jason, and thinks she caused all his problems. She smoked when she was pregnant and thinks that’s why he turned out that way. When I told her she smoked when she was pregnant with me, and I turned out okay, she said that I should be grateful that I got lucky. Her whole world is Jason. It’s really hard on Dad, because she’s wrapped up in Jason. There’s never time for me or Dad.”

  “Yeah, that would be tough,” I said.

  “My mother’s wrong, anyway,” Sable whispered. “I didn’t turn out okay.”

  “You seem okay to me,” I had to tell her.

  “I hide lots of things. Things I’d probably tell my parents if Jason wasn’t there. But I don’t want to cause any more grief in their lives than they already have. Their marriage is shaky enough, as it is.”

  “But you’re their kid. And they’re your parents. Who else is going to help you when you need it?”

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need anybody.”

  We ate our pizza and watched the movie for a while, then Sable and I went upstairs to get on her computer.

  “You want to see some really cool stuff?” she asked when she connected to the Internet. Then she opened up a chat room for cutters. “There’re some really cool kids here,” she said. “You think I have issues, you should hear some of their stories.”

  “You said you were going to quit. I thought you stopped.”

  “I did for a few months, but then the urge came back. It’s like I can’t stop it. I try reading to get my mind off of it, and that helps some, but then the urge takes over my whole body.” She looked away for a second. “I have to do it.”

  I told her I didn’t understand why anyone would want to hurt themselves that way, and Sable said she does it to get rid of the pain inside. When I asked her what the pain was, she said she couldn’t tell me, maybe someday, but not right then. I asked her if it had anything to do with her little brother. She said in a way, but not really. She said I was really sweet and she likes hanging around me because I live in a safe world, the world she used to live in.

  When I asked her what she meant by that, she said she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. But I did tell her she should talk to one of the counselors at school, like Mrs. Duffy (she’s pretty cool— she’s talked to me about Paul and everything) or one of our youth ministers. I told her that I had to fight my urges to eat all the time, but my parents have been a big help teaching me how to discipline myself. Cutting is not that much different from overeating—they’re both bad for you. She can hide her problems, but I can’t.

  Talking to other cutters online has at least taught her why she cuts herself. Most cutters have been hurt on the inside, so the only way they can feel better is by hurting themselves on the outside, though Sable says it doesn’t really hurt
that much. I can’t even imagine doing that. It makes me feel bad that Sable has so much pain inside. I told her that, and she said I was a really big help. I asked, “What do you mean ‘really big’?” Sable laughed. But then she said she’d talk to Mrs. Duffy.

  I felt so bad for Sable, I almost kissed her. But then she showed me her arms and it made me cringe, so I didn’t think she’d want a kiss from someone as safe as me.

  Monday, 4–2

  I went to the eye doctor after school today, and he gave me some trial contacts. They don’t feel as funny as I thought they would, though I need practice putting them in and out. After a bit, they started bugging me and I tried everything I could think of to get them out my eyes. I blinked and wiggled my eyes around; then the contacts got stuck on the side. I even banged the back of my head with my hands. Finally, I stuck my fingers in my eyes and pulled them out.

  When I’m wearing my contacts I hardly recognize myself. I mean, I really couldn’t see what I looked like without my glasses, because I’m practically blind without them. But my face doesn’t seem as fat as it used to be. I’m beginning to grow cheekbones and a chin!

  I feel more like Romeo now that I’m wearing my new contacts. And because of the weight loss. I mean, how realistic would it be for a fat, medieval kid to be an expert swordsman? Talk about an easy target.

  The scene with Tybalt was really cool—I’m glad we watched that part of the video before we acted out that scene when Tybalt dies; otherwise, I think the class would have laughed at us. But after seeing the scene, everyone really got the feel for what the lines mean, and how upset Romeo was over killing Juliet’s cousin. Like, how can she forgive him for that? Especially if Romeo doesn’t get to her before her father does and explain that it was an accident. I don’t get some parents. How can they keep kids apart who really love each other? Especially good kids. But I guess if they didn’t, there wouldn’t be near as many tragic love stories.

  Tuesday, 4–3

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  Sable had a really bad night last night. She called me crying hysterically, saying that she cut herself again, but this time there was blood all over the place and she was afraid she went too deep. “You better get your parents,” I told her, “so they can get you to the hospital or call 911.” She kept screaming, “No! No! You don’t understand! I want to die!” I was really afraid for her, and kept her on the phone while I went downstairs to get Mom and Dad. It was after ten and they were half asleep on the couch. I went to wake them up, but then I heard Sable’s mom in the background. It was awful, because I could hear how shocked her mom was when she saw all the blood and her cut arms and everything. Right before Sable hung up, I heard her dad yell, “My God! My God!”

  Sable wasn’t in school today and I’m not sure if I should call over there. But I want to, because I don’t know if she is alive or not. Mom offered to call her house for me, but I think I should be the one to call. Life seems so strange to me now. I mean, I have two close friends and I don’t know whether either one of them is alive or dead. I can see having one close friend that you might not know about, but two?

  At least I know Allen’s okay. When I saw him in the lunchroom today, I really ripped on him about his grandpa’s shoes. It was like I needed to feel like a normal guy again. Allen joked about how my head was shrinking because I’m losing so much weight. He asked if he could have all my hats since they don’t fit me anymore. It felt really good, kidding around with Allen.

  Wednesday, 4–4

  Please Don’t Read This Page

  It sucks that Sable won’t be back for two weeks. It’s not as much fun reading the parts with Katie Poole, even though she’s a good reader. To me, Sable is Juliet. I don’t mean I like Sable the way Romeo likes Juliet. He really overdoes it with all the metaphors and similes and stuff. It’s just that Sable and Juliet have the same soul. They’re both really deep and notice things like the stars and the moon, and both believe in fate. Juliet can’t communicate with her parents; neither can Sable. And, like Juliet, Sable acts on her feelings without thinking about the consequences. And, they both cut themselves. Weird how things that happened hundreds of years ago are still happening today. Like girls hurting their bodies, kids picking on each other, parents abusing their kids, people fighting over stupid things…and then dying over it all.

  Thursday, 4–5

  Everyone’s noticing how much weight I’ve lost, but some of the kids still treat me the same. Like Nate. He keeps laughing and calling me a loser. “Now he’s REALLY a big loser,” he said in math. Mr. L just ignores him and lets him get away with it. I think Mr. L is afraid of Nate. I guess I can’t say I blame him. Nate is one of those kids who could get the whole class against a teacher and make the teacher’s life miserable. Nate only goes so far, then pulls back, so if the teacher ever called his parents, Nate could easily say Mr. L has it out for him. Then his parents would try to get Mr. L fired. Kids can be really manipulative that way. I don’t know why anyone would ever want to be a teacher. They have to take so much off of kids and hardly make any money for it.

  I mean, I know teachers, at least most of them, are dedicated and want to help kids and everything, but I still feel sorry for them, because most kids don’t really appreciate what teachers are trying to do. They just want to get good grades, even if they have to cheat, so their parents don’t give them a hard time. I mean, my parents really like that I get good grades, but they don’t pressure me like I’ve seen some parents do. Maybe because they know I’m one of those kids teachers call self-motivated.

  And things come easy to me. Like math. I think that’s why I was chosen to tutor Robb Thuman. Me, of all people. He was starting quarterback on the football team this year and has been offered a football scholarship to Bowling Green. He needs to pass Algebra I and Algebra II to graduate—he never made up his Algebra I class and he’s barely passing Algebra II. Since Robb’s in my math class, Mr. L asked me to tutor him. At first, Robb was a real jerk—almost as bad as he was earlier in the year—but when he saw I really could help him, he kinda eased up and started joking around about how clueless he is in math. “Man, I never could get this stuff. Teachers go way too fast for me. On the field, it’s easy—in here, it’s like I’ve got mush for brains.” I keep telling him he can get it if he practices, just like he practices football.

  “I can’t practice by myself; I need a coach.” Then I even offered to help him after school, but I would need a ride home. He suggested that he come by my house later, after he drops his girlfriend off. “I have to pass this class, man, or I’ll lose my scholarship. I’ll do whatever it takes. Carly and I usually hang out after school, but I’ll drop her off and then come by for an hour, if that’s okay.”

  “Sometimes, I have to stay after for band practice, but otherwise that’ll work.”

  “Maybe we can work out some. I’ll help you get in shape, and you help me get smarter. I can’t believe you’re the same kid who ran around with his boobs hanging out earlier this year.”

  Man, things really have changed. The star football player of Hanover High is asking ME if I want to work out with him.

  Saturday, 4–7

  Can’t believe it’s time for spring break already. We’re not going anywhere this year—my parents are trying to save more money for my sister’s and my college education. My dad says we only can take two vacations a year—one at Thanksgiving and one in the summer. I don’t mind, ’cause that means I’ll have plenty of time for working out and my music. My sister’s all moody though, because some of the juniors are allowed to go to Destin by themselves and rent hotel rooms on the beach. But my mother said, “No way!” Robb’s going though—that’s all he’s been talking about for weeks. I told him not to forget everything we worked on. I can’t see my parents letting me go anywhere that’s not chaperoned, especially a place that’s a thousand miles away and full of drunken kids. Maybe that’s where Paul is—on the beach having a perpetual (Sable taught me that word) spring b
reak.

  Monday, 4–9

  Sable called and said she’s coming back to school right after the break. She sounded happy and rested, but I could tell she was embarrassed about what happened. “The doctors said I could have died. I didn’t realize how deeply I cut myself—that’s never happened before. Guess I’m lucky, huh?”

  Sable said she’s been in counseling every day and is learning that her cutting has nothing to do with her parents or her brother. It’s because of something that had happened to her as a little girl that she never told her parents about. She’s still not sure she wants to tell them, but at least the doctor is helping her sort things out. All her parents do is cry and feel guilty. They can’t believe how long she’s been a cutter and they didn’t even notice. Sable said she heard some of the nurses whispering about her mother and she let them have it. She used the word “confronted.”

  “How would you like to have a kid who has to read signs just to go to the bathroom? Not just once, but every time he goes. It’s not easy. My mother does the best she can. She’s too busy working and taking care of a husband and two kids to stick her nose in other people’s business. You’re nothing more than a conceited bunch of scandalmongers.” I have to give it to Sable. She knows a bunch of really cool words.

  I asked her if she was cured of her cutting disease. She said she has a long way to go, but at least she has a chance.

  Thursday, 4–12

  Guess what? Robb came back from Destin early. He and his roommates trashed their hotel room and were fined for damages. They came home because they ran out of money. Robb asked if I wanted to come over and hang out, watch a movie, anything but math. After my dad dropped me off, Robb said I should just spend the night so my dad doesn’t have to drive again.