Hey, guys. I decided to try something new with this story. No, I haven't forgotten the other two stories, but I wanted to start this one so I took a break from those…a long break. Haha. Oh well. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks.
She stood in front of her mirror, just examining herself. She was a little wider than she used to be and the space between her thighs no longer existed. In her own eyes, she was enormous. And…were those stretch marks?
Jazmine Dubois turned to the side in her new swimsuit, inwardly cringing at the small pooch that now sat at the base of her abdomen. Her hands were placed on it gently, as if holding it. It was summer time and one female in Woodcrest was not necessarily pleased with her figure this year.
There was a small pout on her face as she continued to stare. Oh my gosh, I'm getting fat! I don't understand, what did I do wrong? I played soccer during school; I worked off what I ate...right? Apparently not. The fourteen-year-old did indeed have questionable eating habits, but she didn't expect to actually gain weight. She liked to always think of herself as the one out of many who could consume like a monster and not gain anything. Well, this was what she got for thinking she was so special.
She stripped herself of her bikini, and bent over, grimacing at the sight of her stomach folding over itself, putting on a pink t-shirt and loose, light gray sweatpants, her hair pulled into a low, puffy ponytail. She sighed; she would have to start working out. But, she didn't want to do it alone…she needed someone to motivate her or else she would give up. Who might help her?
Jazmine glanced at the clock.
'12:09 p.m.'
She grabbed her sneakers and a handful of fitness magazines and headed for the door.
Huey was sitting under the tree on top of the hill as usual, reading the newspaper as he wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. His black t-shirt was starting to feel a little damp from the humidity, his red basketball shorts clinging to him.
Footsteps could be heard in the background, but he was almost certain he knew who it was so he didn't bother to look up. They continued to grow louder as the person neared him and finally sat down next to him.
"Hey, Huey," the light feminine voice greeted in a tone he couldn't decipher.
"Hey," he replied nonchalantly.
For a while there was silence as he read his newspaper and she sat there doing nothing. Or so he thought. He glanced at Jazmine, surprised to see she brought her own reading material. He went back to the paper, but looked back at the magazine she was so interested in. His eyes narrowed when he spotted a picture of a slender woman with a six pack posing in an orange bikini.
He wondered why she was reading a fitness magazine, but kept his mouth shut in order to avoid any possibilities of her asking-
"Huey, do you think I'm fat?" Too late. His gaze, which was still on the picture slowly met hers. He raised an eye brow.
"Do you think you're fat?" he questioned, refusing to be trapped by a question that could go wrong whether or not he said no. She sighed.
"Huey, I'm serious. Do you?" she turned away, adding, "…'cause I do."
He stared straight ahead. "Jazmine, you're not fat, you just gained a little—"
"See! I knew it! Oh my God, what am I gonna do? I can't go to pool parties, or the beach. And forget bikinis! I might as well throw that new one in the trash—" Wait…Jazmine wore bikinis?
"Jazmine, calm down—"
"I'll never be able to go swimsuit shopping ever again! I'll have to wear giant t-shirts with shorts like all the other self-conscious people do!—"
"Jazmine—"
"And it's only gonna get worse from here! I'll just keep gaining weight and getting fatter until I can't even do any type of exercise before a severe operation for liposuction, unlessyouhelpme.—"
"Jazmine!" Huey shouted. He processed her last words, a confused expression forming on his face. "…What?"
She looked down shyly, refusing to make eye contact. "I kinda need to lose weight. And I figured you work out and stay in shape, so…maybe you could help me?" She spoke softly.
"It's probably not even exercise. You just need to eat healthier and…not as often as you usually do."
"I do eat healthy!" she argued. He gave her a doubtful look.
"Jazmine, more than half the times I'm with you, you're either eating fries, or doughnuts, sometimes even deep-fried onion rings. And that doesn't include what you eat when you stay over for dinner. Grandad's food isn't really meant to be eaten as often as it is, even though I'm the only one who knows that. Not to mention no one ever notices the gigantic salad I always make as an alternative—"
"Alright, I get it! Eat healthier. Okay next?" she asked impatiently.
"Nothing else is really required. You should be all set," he told her, returning to his newspaper. She pouted.
"But I wanna work out."
"You don't have to," he said.
"But I want to," she replied curtly. Huey shrugged, deciding to end the conversation altogether.
"Well, good luck." It was silent again, aside from the occasional page turning. Jazmine continued to stare at him, that stare eventually becoming a glare. He intended to wait her out, but the feeling of eyes burning into the side of his face started to distract him, and he was tired of reading the same sentence over and over again. "What?" he demanded, more harshly than he planned.
"Why won't you help me?" she questioned. Still looking at the fine print, he answered her indifferently.
"'Cause you don't need it."
"But I need someone to help me or I might give up…" she whined.
"Then ask somebody else," he suggested simply. Jazmine narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion clearly evident in them.
"What do you have against me losing weight—"
"Did I say I have something against you losing weight—"
"Well—"
"I said, 'Then ask somebody else.' That's not a very difficult task, Jazmine."
"Who am I gonna ask, then?" He shrugged, annoyed by the fact that they were still talking about this.
"I dunno. Cindy? She'll probably get you to play basketball with her or something. Do that long enough and you'll be back to the way you were." There was no trace of interest in his voice whatsoever as he said this.
"Yeah, but that'll take too long…I need something that's quicker."
"Jog around the block—"
"Something that builds muscle—"
"Weight training—"
"Abdominal—"
"Crunches, sit-ups, push-ups, twists—"
"Shapes backside?—"
"Squat, pistol squat, split squat, Bulgarian squat, duck walks, Arabesque—"
"Ugh!" she interrupted, tired of the game she was obviously losing. Huey finally faced her, blinking. She stood up and threw her magazines down forcefully. He frowned at her. She had a look of desperation on her face, slightly masked by anger. "I should've KNOWN you weren't gonna do this kind of favor for me. You never help anyone; all you do is—"
"Prepare people for more important things? Things that have to do with the government? Things that have to do with the United States and its people? I made a crisis plan, Jazmine, and believe it or not, you're still on it. Of course I had to make adjustments like adding eight empty spaces to it, just in case random people decide to stay with us like last time. Do you have any idea how long it takes to obtain twice as many resources as previously required? Not to mention I had to build another generator…" he paused, recalling the topic, "I may not be helping you right now, but I'm helping you in the long run, so I don't have the time to…never mind. Just ask somebody else."
So this was it. She'd never get thin. She'd just get bigger as she grew older. Tears began to fill her eyes as mental images of herself being twenty times her current size began to haunt her. She grudgingly picked up her magazines and trudged down the hill, not at all prepared to accept what seemed to be her fate.
As the footsteps became distant, Huey watched as she walked farther and farther away, her sniffles barely audible. He wore a rare expression of indecisiveness as he continued to look after her, until she finally disappeared.
What do you guys think? Should he help her? Get back to me on that