Read Conversations With the Fat Girl Online
Authors: Liza Palmer
little vignette, but right now all I want is another drink. ?I'm heading
up for another one. What are you drinking??I ask Cole. ?Seven and Seven.
I'll go with you.? Cole stands up, straightening his shirt. Maybe Cole
is sorry for what he said. Maybe the reason I'm here tonight is to make
something happen with Cole? Domenic? Screw Domenic. He couldn't care
less. Cole might secretly like me. too. He did call me little one time.
?Fuck these bitches.? Cole waves his arms over the table and turns to
follow me. He's burbling something about ?big-ass
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titties?when I snap out of my trance. I grab my wallet from my purse and
sneak a peek at Domenic. My ?peek?becomes a slow- motion stare. He is
sitting back with his arm around Cole's now vacant chair. He looks good.
He did something to his hair. I don't know what it is but he looks
amazing. He is wearing a light blue dress shirt under a dark blue V-neck
sweater. The shirt is not tucked in and falls below the sweater. It
complements the khaki pants that actually fit his lean body He dressed
up for this girl. I walk to the bar with Cole and catch a final glimpse
of him saying something to Christina in confidence while Erin does her
best to act like she doesn't notice. ?Can I have a Kamikaze shot,
another Amaretto Sour, and a Seven and Seven, please??I ask Ronald
Reagan behind the bar. ?Kamikaze, huh?? Cole finds a few bar stools and
plops himself down, pulling a bowl of pretzels over. ?I'm a little
thirsty?I lie. What I am is a little fucking fed up with being the other
girl. Erin is over there having a normal night, being set up on a date
by her girlfriend and on her way to having a wonderful time. The guy
likes her because she is cute and small, however pockmarked she is.
They'll get married and have little zit-faced kids together. I down my
shot and breathe in quickly 'Can I have a sip of yours??I ask Cole,
who's genuinely thrown by my uncharacteristic behavior. 'You can have
it.?He slides the 7 and 7 over and asks the bartender for another. I
down his drink. I pull mine over and bring it to my lips. ?Are you
okay??It's Peregrine. Thank God. I might have shared my feelings with
Cole if she hadn't shown up. That would have been frightening and
awkward for both of us.
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?I'm fine,?I slur. I have never had so much to drink in such a short
time before. I feel drunker than I've been in a long time and even more
hopeless-a magical combination. It's taken exactly thirty minutes. Why
did I even come? There's always an Erin. ?What do you need??Peregrine
strokes my hair while trying to block Cole's view of us. It gives me a
false sense of privacy. Partygoers are beckoning Peregrine to the dance
floor. She waves them off. ?I need you not to tell me I'm better off
without him. I need you not to tell me that she's a silly little
whore.?I stare at her. ?She needs some coffee.?Domenic is suddenly
standing over me and even in my drunken stupor I panic that he's heard
too much. ?Puddin', go on back to your little date.? Peregrine tries to
shoo Domenic. Her first instinct is to protect. I am her cub tonight and
she perceives Domenic as the orange-vested hunter who has me in his
sights. He steps forward. ?She needs to go home.?His face is distorted
like he's behind a fishbowl. ?Your little date is wonderin' where ya
are, why don'tcha head on back,?I slur. ?She's fuckin' smokin' hot,
man.? Cole wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and raises it so
Domenic can give him a high five in celebration of his ?smokin'
hot?find. Domenic doesn't even look at Cole. ?Maggie? Come on.?Domenic
grabs my arm. ?Leggo. Pickie Pock Mark wants a drinkie,?I manage,
pointing back at Erin. Peregrine stands back, and I can see her mind
working. Or maybe that's what's happening. Let's face it, how credible
am I at
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this point? Inez pulls closer into Peregrine as the thought finally
cements. I look to the back table and Erin is staring over at us. It
seems Pickie Pock Mark is getting jealous. ?D. Browm hittin' it with the
hotties,?Cole says to no one in particular. ?I'm the only sober one
here. Let me handle this. Fm sure you'll let Erin know why I've left,
and there are so many people no one will even notice we're gone.?Domenic
moves close to me. ?Maybe you should take her home??Peregrine toys. Inez
smiles. ?I wanna go home.?I lean back into Domenic. He puts his arm
around my shoulder. I ?secretly?smell Him. Domenic steadies me with his
arm and grabs my purse. I can see Inez lean back into Peregrine.
Peregrine is whispering wildly into her ear. Another pack of partygoers
drags her and Inez onto the dance floor as we're leaving. The last thing
I see as I'm walking toward the stairwell is Peregrine standing on top
of the bar, reaching down for Inez as Modern English's I Melt With You
pounds in the background. I wobble into the stairwell of the museum in
the arms of Domenic Brown. I can smell his shampoo from where I am
leaning on his shoulder. And I am leaning, which is freeing in one way
and completely horrifying in another. The world is spinning. I wonder if
I'm really leaving the party with Domenic. I'm not so sure. I look up
and stare right at him-every inch of him. The black stubble on the
bottom of his chin. His long black eyelashes. He ha a cut on his neck,
probably from shaving. His skin is blotchy in patches, but on the whole
it definitely clear, unlike some people. Echem. His lips are chapped
right at the top, but puffy and full in general. Pink. Very pink.
?You've got good skin. Pink lips,' I burble.
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?Thanks. Are your keys in your purse??Domenic stands me up and rummages
through my purse, looking for my keys. ?My keys are in my purse. Are you
driving my car?? I am swaying back and forth. I am screaming inside my
head, trying to stabilize. ?I'm going to take you home. Is that
okay??Domenic retrieves the keys and comes over to me. I stare at him
again. Is that chest hair? Interesting. I'm noticing now that he's
wearing a buttondown shirt as opposed to a T-shirt. He is angling his
body to lead me across the street to where my car is parked. But, always
on the alert, I cunningly deduce that he's leaning in for a kiss, so I
pucker up and wait. I'm now on some corner in Pasadena kissing the air
in front of Domenic Brown.
126 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN No, in Your Eyes, Lloyd Dobler The first crush I
can remember was in fourth grade. His name was Josh and he had
strawberry-blond hair in a classic bowl cut. In the days before Olivia,
when I wasn't on the edges of popularity, I found solace on the monkey
bars. Not the act of going across the monkey bars, but sitting atop
observing the landscape of the playground. One fateful day, Josh corn-
up below me and stole my shoe-a slip-on Van (blue and yellow). Even then
I remember thinking-This is it. He's now my boyfriend. The whole shoe
thing? Elementary school foreplay. After swooning for far too long, Josh
returned the shoe-okay, threw the shoe up at me as he yelped ?Weirdo.?My
knight in shining armor. I climbed atop those monkey bars for the
remaining seven months of fourth grade. I never changed shoes-thinking
somehow it was the intoxicating blue-and-yellow slip-on Van that drew
him to me like Circe's call. You'd think after over fifteen years, I
would have come down off those monkey bars. Domenic is soooo gentle.
Wow, those lips are soft, I can't believe this is happening to me.
?Babe, we've got to get you in the car.' Did lie just call me
127 Conversations with the Fat Girl 121 babe? Was I kissed? His hands
are on my shoulders and he is softly shaking me. I believe I have fallen
asleep. I put my hand out to balance myself, and the coldness of the
Street sign shocks me. ?Babe? I'm not your babe. Pickie Pock Mark is
your babe. You're all fancied up for her, forfuckssakes I believe there
is, in fact, my own drool on my chin. Yes. . . yes it is. ?I'm here with
you. Can you make it to the car?? What? Without throwing myself at you?
?Yeah, I think I can conshrol messell,?I slur. Domenic and I walk across
the street together like we're in a three-legged race. He opens the car
door for me and I climb in. My car looks different from this angle.
Domenic opens the driver's-side door and eases himself behind the wheel.
?You're taller than I thought you were.?Domenic adjusts the mirror and
puts the key in the ignition. I pull my seat belt around and come to the
realization that I'm far too drunk to be witty I'll just sit here and be
quiet. I won't say another word and maybe I won't humiliate myself any
further. I search my memory for evidence that Domenic and I kissed. I am
deep in thought, feeling my own lips, as Domenic signals and pulls out
onto the street. Surprisingly, I am able to direct him to my hack house
with little difficulty while keeping my witty banter to a hare minimum.
Domenic Brown is coming over to my house. I don't care what the
circumstances are. He's coming over. I am starting to get unbelievably
thirsty, and my eyes can no longer stay open. I roll down my window and
allow the fresh air to revitalize me. I look like someone's dog. Domenic
finds parking on the street in front of my house. ?Just take the car.?I
heave myself out. ?One step at a time. First, let's get you
inside.?Domenic takes my hand as we cross the busy street. It feels so
natural and
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Right. His fingers curl around my hand, and I can feel the heat of his
body soaring up through my arm. I have never touched Domenic before.
Sure, we've bumped into each other ?accidentally.? I have stood next to
him and quietly smelled him. Maybe there has been some fantasizing that
could be considered virtual touching. But this is the first time we've
actually touched on purpose for a prolonged period of time. I feel
places tingling in me that I didn't know existed. I can't think
straight. I hold his hand back.
?Which key opens the front door??Domenic opens the screen door and holds
up my key chain. I try to stabilize myself on the bulldozer and
concentrate on the keys. I'm completely distracted by the hand holding.
I can't seem to focus on anything but Comenic's amber eyes.
?You can ask for it if you want, you know ?as the days go by and by and
byyyy.?I can't fathom why I choose these words in response to his key
query.
?What? Maggie, I am asking you.?Domenic is trying each key in the slot,
figuring this method will take less time.
?Oh not that. In the song. The song on your CD. I'm not gonna hurt ya.?I
lean in; he tilts his head into me. I proceed to stage whisper: ?I heard
the hidden track on the hidden track CD.? I am tapping my head on the
side and winking elaborately at him to let him know he's a genius for
thinking up such a concept.
?Yeah, well.?Domenic finally gets my front door open and Solo begins her
barking, growling and running-away routine. He seems a little startled
but continues into the house.
?G'grrrl?g'grrrl.?I approach Solo and try to calm her down.
?Nice place.?Domenic puts my keys on the counter and sets my purse on
the floor. The entire house is packed up in thirty-six boxes.
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?Thanks.?I go into the bathroom to take out my contact lenses with the
exacting hands of a surgeon. I have taken my lenses out in darkened
movie theaters and on amusement rides. Now I can add drunk to this
imprssive list. I am putting on my glasses as I come out of the
bathroom. Domenic is standing in the living room, letting Solo smell
him. I start uncontrollably jabbering.
?I get it, you know. I'm the girl in the window and you're Lloyd
Dobler?and that song is just a good song?but then I think you're trying
to tell me something. You know? That thing. That?it's so hard to tell
someone right to their face?and I get it. I talk that way, too.?My arms
are raised above my head as an homage to Lloyd Dobler and Peter
Gabriel's ?In Your Eyes?, one of those climactic movie moments where the
wallflower hero finally leaps past his comfort zone to profess his love
for the impossibly popular, yet astonishingly available, love interest.
Domenic approaches me slowly, pulling my arms down into a normal position.
?I'm not Lloyd Dobler and I think Peter Gabriel's 'In Your Eyes' is
highly overrated. But you are the girl in the window, so let's just get
you in bed so you can sleep this off. Domenic leads me through my
bedroom door. I don't know whether to be terrified or excited. I am a
little of both. I take my boots off. Thank God, my socks are
respectable. This whole thing could have gone really bad really fast.