Chapter 7 - section 7

Georgia relaxes her vice grip. 'You're gonna stop now?'

Feeling her friend's bodyheat so close behind, Ruby grinds her teeth, remaining silent as if to say, 'fine.'

Slowly, carefully, not to startle a wild animal, Georgia lets go. Ruby makes a move - Georgia flinches, almost grabs again - but Ruby is merely rubbing the pink rings around her wrists where Georgia had gripped tight as a clamp. Sighing down her nose, Ruby crosses her arms. They sit folded across her chest. Her eyes lay averted.

Georgia steps around in front of Ruby. 'Gotta wonder what you weigh, huh.' She leans back on her heel to scan Ruby's body from head to toe, back up again. 'I mean,' she muses, leaning in to pat her bulge, 'look at this thing'. Then she takes a small gasp and quickly adds, having remembered who she's talking to: her friend: 'But, I mean, then again, like, I'm not calling you obese or anything! You've just... you have a belly, now, is all. You've never had one before. It's just a bit of a shock.' But the damage control was far too clear.

Ruby holds back the threat of tears. 'Yeah, I know.'

'Well... how did it happen, then?'

She merely shrugs.

Suddenly Georgia's jaw slackens. 'Oh my god... you are so in denial!'

Scowling, 'Fine then! It happened because I ate lots, alright? I ate. Food. Lots of it.' Ruby launches into what almost becomes rant. 'Yeah, I ate it! I ate it good! And then I ate some more, how about that! It was really boring with no one around, alright? I ate really good shit, oh my god it was so, so yu-u-ummy, you should try it some time instead of being a such a straight-backed prickly bitch!'

Georgia's lips curl, ready to let loose a flaming-hot retaliation-

But she stops herself, since she regards herself as being able to have some... self control. Yes, self control. The ability to remain calm. With great effort, she lets Ruby's words slide away. Unfortunately, there's a dominant side of her. It eggs Ruby on, regardless.

'How didn't you notice, though?' Goergia persists.

Ruby stares at her, wordless. Silence passes before an answer. Looking at the carpet, 'I was... in denial? I guess?'

'About that thing?' Glancing with a point at her waist. 'And those?' One glance at each curved hip.

Ruby has no choice but to nod. In her eyes, darkly, is all the hope in the world that she might just die, right now, right here, on the spot, inexplicably and terminally, never to feel this kind of humiliation again. Georgia sees it. Her chest pangs with quick guilt. But unfortunately, it's just a passing emotion.

'Look. I'm so sorry,' Georgia says, 'but... I just can't stop looking. I feel bad, I do - it's like when you can't help staring at someone disabled even though it's rude. But like, I just can't stop wondering how much you've put on.' After a pause, full of thinking, Georgia gets an idea. She declares: 'We are going to the bathroom.'

Ruby's eyes widen. 'Uh. Why...'

'Just go to the bathroom.' Georgia makes to move, but Ruby stays put. Face full of questioning, Georgia folds her arms and waits. 'Go on, then.'

Ruby doesn't move.

Showing pointed annoyance, Georgia droops her eyelids, cocks her head to the side. Feels like dealing with a kid.

With a heaving sigh, Ruby realises she might as well obey. Sulking past the couch, she makes a show of tugging her shirt to make sure it's all the way down. Then her arms fall to her sides, and she begins to scrape her feet towards the bathroom. The thing she doesn't understand is that the hem fails to meet her pants by an inch, leaving exposed a mere but obvious ribbon of flesh. Georgia stares at it as she tags along behind.

Coming to the bathroom door, Ruby halts, and stands there like a dismayed dog. Georgia has to take initiative. Flicking the light on, tiled walls and floor erupt in brilliant bright. She moves in and beckons her friend. Ruby folds her arms, then slinks in, standing in a corner as if to protect herself from bullies. She watches with a heavy heart as Georgia kneels and opens the sink cupboards, withdrawing like a relic the plastic white form of an old scale. The platform is slightly dusty, there are a few stray hairs stuck curled to the bottom, and Ruby can't remember the last time she ever saw it. Her voice struggles to rise above a mumble. 'That probably doesn't work anymore...'

Nice try.

Georgia stands up and faces Ruby with a severe look, cradling the scale like an executioner's instrument. Executioner of dignity. Bringer of shame. Ruby feels it, right there in her heart, panging and cold. Her lower lip creases. 'Look. Can we please... not do this?'

No reply from Georgia, who bends down and sets the scale on the floor, as a matter of fact, at Ruby's defensively turned-in feet. Georgia eyes the thing for a moment. With pursed lips, she says, 'Have you seen yourself yet?'

And Ruby breaks. 'Yes, yes, okay, yes, I'm fat. I get it. You can stop it now, I thought we were friends, I don't-'

'No, I meant have you actually seen yourself? For real, in the mirror?'

Ruby's eyes become heavy. She shakes her head side-to-side in miniature movements.

'Well now's your chance,' Georgia suggests. 'I think it's probably good for people to see themselves as they are, once in a while, so they can get motivated. A little shock to get you going.' She steps aside so her friend can move to the mirror which hangs above the sink. Ruby avoids meeting gaze of the reflected figure she can see at the blurry edges of her peripherals. 'Why are you doing this to me?' she pleads. 'Why and since when? Why do you suddenly like making people feel bad, all of a sudden? What, did you learn how to be a bitch on your nice little cruise? Did you become like a guru in self-control or something? Oh excuse me if my self-control slips now and then, like every normal person in the world; oh, excuse me if I can't have a flat waist by whisking a weight-loss wand whenever I want; oh, excuse me if I didn't watch exactly every single atom of what I ate while you weren't here; oh, excuse me if every diet in existence is a total bullshit lie; and you know what, on top of that, excu-u-use me, excuse me for not being the girlfriend, of a guy, who is so filthy rich, he can fling money, at a mediterranean cruise, like he's shouting his buddies a beer!'