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BPOV

Junior Year of High School


I was on my bed, almost out of breath from struggling with my jeans. The button fastened easily enough now that I was flat on my back. I knew they'd fit, they just didn't want to go over my thighs.

For a few minutes I laid there, wishing that the bed would swallow me whole. I didn't feel like going to school, but staying home would be far from a reprieve. Venturing out of my room for more than the time it took to run out the door would open the floodgates. Mom would hem and haw over my choice in clothes, insisting that I try on these new underwear she'd found. She raved about Spanx any time she got me alone for more than a minute. It was all about how they could smooth out my problem areas.

It was that or being quizzed about the food I'd put in my mouth when I was outside the house. While I was home, I wasn't allowed anything but what was in the fridge: lean meats, vegetables, low-fat cottage cheese, and hard-boiled eggs. The list went on and on. It was no surprise that I had Alice stop at the deli by school every morning so I could run in and grab something more filling, and with some flavor to it. Or why I hid food in my room.

Maybe I wouldn't have hated all the food my mom stocked for us if I didn't feel like it was being shoved down my throat.

I told myself over and over that at least my mother cared. She took the time to hug me before I left for school, she'd rave over my good grades. But my father? Every morning my father gave me the same dissatisfied look. He'd completely stopped trying to hide his disgust over my body.

When he was in earshot of one of mom's many lectures on how I could look and feel better if I tried, he'd loudly scoff. I was no good to him if I was fat. It didn't matter to him what I did if I didn't look good while doing it.

Outside, the horn sounded from Alice's blue Honda Accord. Heaving a sigh, I got on my feet, glancing in the mirror. These jeans fit, but it would take some time for them to stretch out. I tugged my blouse down further, hoping to hide the muffin top I was sporting until my jeans stretched out and I could breathe. My thoughts fluttered to the undergarments mom was always boasting about. Maybe I could—

Alice's horn beeped once more and mom yelled up the stairs that I needed to get moving. It was no use anyway. If I threw on a pair of Spanx, people would notice that, and I'd still get ridiculed.

It didn't matter what I did, teenagers were mean one way or another.


I slid into the backseat next to Edward, who had his backpack stationed on his lap like every other morning. He glanced at me, muttering a quick "morning" before turning his head toward the window. It was obvious that he only put up with me sitting next to him for the free ride from Alice.

"What took you so long?" Alice turned her head to look back as she reversed out of the driveway.

Cheeks pinking, my eyes darted toward Edward and then back up front. "Jeans took a little longer to get on than I expected."

Alice and Rose were great friends, and fiercely loyal and protective of me, but they still didn't always understand. Alice was tiny, maybe five feet even, and a little over a hundred pounds. She had long, dark hair and hazel eyes. The biggest issue she had with jeans was their length, never the problem of if they would button.

Then there was Rose. She was taller than both Alice and me, standing at around five-foot-seven. She had light brown hair and eyes to match. Rose was slender, with perfect curves. Boys followed her around like puppy dogs, hoping to bury their bones in her yard.

I'd seen her try on jeans before, and they just slid up her legs and buttoned perfectly. She didn't need to wait a few hours for them to stretch out. Nothing extra spilled over the top of them. They fit, and they were comfortable.

Edward was Rose's twin brother, and he was just as perfect looking as she was. He was tall, already over six-feet, with a sharp jaw and striking blue-green eyes. His hair was a coppery brown, and he paid little attention to it. Most days he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, but it worked for him.

That left me. I was so unlike all of them, and it was glaringly obvious. I was five-foot-three and a hundred and ninety-five pounds. I cringed every time Alice demanded that we take a picture together on one of her many disposable cameras. And I felt like crying when she'd bring the developed ones with her to school for us to look at during lunch.

There I was every time, boring brown hair and eyes, looking like a blob between the two of them. One of my thighs was as big as Alice's combined. I knew she meant no harm by it. Both she and Rose complimented me often, and there was never any malice in their words. Not like most of the other girls who snickered and whispered as I walked by.

Edward, though, never said much, but I didn't expect him to. I just assumed he thought of me like the other boys did—with disgust.

We pulled into the parking lot at the deli. "Do you guys need anything?" I asked as I reached for the door handle.

"I'm good." Alice responded.

"Um…" Rose thought for a moment. "No, I'm good."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

"Bella! Wait up!" I was halfway up the steps to the door when I heard Edward call my name. I turned to see him jogging up behind me. He grabbed the door, opening it for me. "I, uh, I needed a coffee."

"Oh, um, okay? Well, they have that here."

I stood there, just staring at him until I felt myself being pushed aside by Mike Newton. "Get out of the fucking doorway, Bella. Fat ass," he muttered under his breath, but loud enough that I knew Edward had heard him as well. Suddenly, I wanted to find somewhere, anywhere to hide.

Edward's shoulders squared, and his eyes turned dark. "Watch your mouth, Newton."

Mike cackled at Edward's reaction. "Aw, did I hurt your girlfriend's feelings? What're you gonna do about it, Cullen? Have her sit on me?"

Edward's cheeks heated, and I felt the tears burning in the corners of my eyes. He was only protecting me because Rose would kick his ass if he didn't.

I couldn't stand there and wait to hear what they said next, so I rushed back down the stairs and into the car.

When Edward eventually followed behind, he slid into the seat next to me, a coffee in one hand and a breakfast sandwich for me in the other. He placed it on my lap without a word, then turned to stare out the window once more.


How are we feeling, my loves? Sad, mad, wanting to kill Mike? Let me know!