Fat Girl on a Plane

by Kelly deVos

  The company that makes this fragrance doesn’t want to see plus-size people, and they certainly don’t want to dress them. Their message is very clear. Hey, fatties, come pay for your eau de toilette and then go spray it on yourself in a closet.

  I see a lot of girls getting upset about this kind of stuff on social media. There’s anger, there’s talk about body positivity, and that’s okay.

  But, ladies, we don’t just need to get mad. We need to get results.

  We need to flex our economic muscle. We need to stop paying the people who mock us and shame us and refuse to make products for us. We’ve given these designers money, fame and power, and they are using these things to abuse us. We need to stop buying the message they’re selling.

  Now I’d like to talk to my other niblets for a minute, my readers who are NOT plus-size. If you frequent my blog, then you know I’m about great fashion for every body and I always have fashion finds for sizes two to thirty-two. I love you girls, and I do not want to take away your nice things. Yes, these great designers make clothes for you and, yes, you do look mighty fine all gussied up in your fancy pants. But your plus-size friends need your help.

  We need you to stop supporting these designers too. We need to be united in our opposition to mean-spirited shaming, to a culture that values physical beauty over human potential and to designers who profit from women even as they demean them. Look around. At your friends, your mother, sisters, daughters, nieces. Chances are pretty good that at least one of them would be called plus-size. Do you want that person to disappear? Would you tell that person you didn’t want to see them?

  But—reality check—if we say goodbye to some of the fashions we’ve loved, that leaves the age-old question. What will we wear?

  We do have some friends and allies in the fight. I’ve got you covered with a list of designers who take an inclusive approach to fashion. And they’ve got some amazeballs sunnies, fragrances and shoes.

  We’re at war. Fashion is your superpower. Your wallet is your weapon. Let’s go.

  Day 1 of the rest of my life

  Grandma wakes me up early on Wednesday morning. I can tell she’s glad to have me home. She also wants me to feed the dog.

  I realize a few things.

  One, I want my friend Tommy back.

  Two, I’m not giving up on my dream of being the next great sportswear designer.

  Three, I want a bagel for breakfast.

  I hit the Starbucks and have the mocha that I want with the whole milk that I want. And I get the bagel that I want.

  It’s not because I feel bad or sad or angry. Gareth Miller’s not driving me into a pint of ice cream. It’s because I’m hungry for a bagel and I have one. I’m ready for the little food accountant who’s been keeping an office inside my brain to take a permanent vacation. It’s time to say goodbye to NutriNation forever.

  This is the fourth thing that I realize.

  My weight will no longer control me.

  I’m going to be who I want to be and do what I want to do and eat what I want to eat. And I am going to get where I want to go.

  I leave the old me there in the coffee shop. The me who thought being happy meant looking perfect. I don’t know if she’ll stay there forever, but I kind of hope she will. Today, I am light. Free. Floating into the future.

  I call Piper on the way to school and we discuss the situation.

  “I’ll miss you,” she tells me. “But I’m proud of you. You’ve finally done it, as I knew you would. You have become a Giver of Zero Fucks. Welcome to the best club on earth, my friend.”

  This makes me grin as I park my car.

  “And don’t worry,” Piper goes on. “We’ll unplug even more people when I’m able to prove that yo-yo dieting shortens your lifespan more than fat does.”

  I hang up the phone. If anyone will be able to do this, it will be Piper.

  I make my way across campus to meet Lydia Moreno. Her new office is in the art building, and it’s pretty fabulous. She has some of the same fashion paper dolls as I do, and she’s hung them up strategically around the room. We have our meeting. It’s not too bad. I’ll be busy for a while doing makeup work, but I sew fast and can catch up.

  She offers to help me with my makeup work and gives me my own worktable on one side of her office. I’m unpacking my shears and scraps of fabric when Tommy’s head pops in the doorway.

  Dr. Moreno, or Lydia, as she keeps reminding me, glances between the two of us and says, “I think I’ll hit the vending machine. Want a Coke?”

  “Sure,” I say with a smile.

  Tommy still looks like a walking Ralph Lauren ad in his navy polo shirt and khaki cargo pants. “I saw you come in here. I thought I’d say hi. We haven’t seen each other since...”

  My smile spreads into a rueful grin. “That thing at Chad Tate’s funeral? Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  Tommy presses his lips into a frown. “It’s not your fault.” There’s a pause. “Are you still with him?”

  “No. Are you still with her?”

  His face flushes red. “Kennes said she saw you in New York. That you were really nice to her. I thought maybe things had changed. That you might want to...”

  I put down the cheap green tackle box. “I really want things to go back to the way they were. But I’m not sure they can. The world doesn’t need more people to make excuses for the bad behavior of all the beautiful people. To dry the crocodile tears that roll down their symmetrical faces. It needs a line in the sand. Something that says there’s a dignity to being human that all people deserve. Right now, I’m on one side of that line and you chose to be on the other side with Kennes.”

  “I’m not sure if you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but you have way more in common with the beautiful people than I do.”

  I shake my head and resume unbundling my fabric swatches. “I will always be that same fat girl on the plane. The one who knows what it’s like to have people refuse to look you in the face. Knows what it’s like to face a world that wants to sideline you because you don’t look the right way. Well, I’m taking a stand. I think there’s something beautiful about everything, and I’m going to discover what it is.”

  Tommy shuffles over to stand right in front of me. “You’re wrong. We’re on the same side of the line, Cookie.”

  I look up into his brown eyes, which are watching me with a kind of fear. The right kind. It’s a fear of hurting me. Of making me unhappy. “You once told me that my world was like a cartoon, full of black and white. Good and bad. Well, your world is like the solar system, and you think people can orbit around you without ever touching each other. But it doesn’t work like that. Kennes has done things that have impacted me, like...like...” I trail off, struggling to finish the analogy.

  “Like the Tunguska event?” he supplies. “You know, the meteor that...” He trails off at the sight of my blank expression.

  “Yeah. I guess,” I say with a laugh. “I can try to play nice, but for this to work, you have to respect me and her.”

  He leans across the cutting table. “Yeah. I see that now.” He adds, “You’re not all that different, you know. You and Kennes.”

  I smile at him. It’s not the massive insult it once was, but Tommy’s wrong. Seeing Kennes outside the Morgan Library, huddled down like a lost puppy...I knew that look. I used to be that person. Desperate and unsure. Tommy needs to save somebody. The old Cookie Vonn, the one I left at the coffee shop, she needed to be rescued. The new one wants to save herself.

  This is how I know I’ll be okay with being just friends.

  Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets. “Want to grab a coffee sometime?”

  “Sure.”

  He goes back the way he came. As his footsteps disappear down the hall, Dr. Moreno peeks back around the corner. “How’s the next great American designer? Ready to get star
ted on those makeup assignments?”

  I grin at her. I’m already unpacking my notions from my green case. “Yep.”

  Cool light comes through the narrow window near the ceiling of Dr. Moreno’s office. Soon it will be twilight and everything will be bathed in blue.

  “I’m ready.”

  * * * * *

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Since writing Trixie Belden fan fiction during fifth-grade recess, becoming a published author has been my dream. A dream that would have never come true without the help and support of all these fantastic people:

  My rock-star literary agent, Katheen Rushall of the Andrea Brown Literary Agency. I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement and for always believing that Cookie’s story would find the perfect home.

  My incredible editor, Natashya Wilson. I am so grateful for your time and help in making this book as good as it could possibly be. Working with you has made me a better and more thoughtful writer.

  The whole team at Harlequin TEEN, including Evan Brown, Linette Kim, Shara Alexander, Gigi Lau, Laci Ann, Margaret Marbury and Gabrielle Vicedomini. Extra-special thanks to Bryn Collier for being an early advocate of my story, to Lauren Smulski for all your support (and not being annoyed every time I ask for books), to Laura Gianino for believing in this book and Krista Mitchell for all your encouragement on social media.

  The HarperCollins Children’s Sales Team. A huge part of the dream for writers is seeing their books on store shelves and you make that happen. Thank you for all you do to connect writers with readers.

  My daughter, Evelyn. Thank you for your love, patience and for always being my instant teen focus group. Whenever I feel down about the world, I remember that someday you and your generation will be running it. Nothing fills me with optimism more than that idea.

  My mom, May Porter. Luckily, my real mom is nothing like Cookie’s. Thank you for always being there for me. I couldn’t have done this without you!

  My friends and family. Massive thanks to Cassidy Pavelich, JoAnn Fuller, Amie Allor, Debbie Pirone, Shanna Weissman and Rita Sivigny for not laughing when I said I was working on my novel and for always enthusiastically supporting this book.

  Riki Cleveland, my BFF and BBFF—best book friend forever. Thanks for all our Sunday writing sessions, for being my very first reader and, above all, for your friendship.

  The Kick-AZ girls, Tawney Bland, Lisa Arneth and Amy Trueblood. I still miss our old critique group and was so fortunate to find you all when I did.

  The AZ YA/MG writer community. Thank you all, especially Dusti Bowling, Stephanie Elliot, Kristen Hunt and Lorri Phillips for sharing your books, coffee, advice and camaraderie.

  Kate Brauning, Sarah Hollowell and Abigail Johnson. Thank you for reading early versions of this book and providing invaluable feedback. Any mistakes are my own.

  Kaitlyn Sage Patterson, an incredible author and person. I’m inspired by your work and am thankful we are friends.

  Patricia Nelson. I’m so grateful for your early support.

  The online writing community. Thanks especially to my Pitch Wars 2014 buds for being the best community ever, to the Electric Eighteens for sharing our debut experience and to Class of 2K18 for friendship and fearless fiction.

  My amazing husband, Jim deVos. Thank you for your unconditional love and support and always believing in me and my dream. Taking that seat next to you in Junior English was the best decision I’ve ever made.

  Finally, to you, the reader. Thank you. I can’t tell you what it means to me that I was able to share this story with you.

  ISBN-13: 9781488023491

  Fat Girl on a Plane

  Copyright © 2018 by Kelly deVos

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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