This Is Who We Are

Chapter 1

Lunch was always the best part of the day.

Not just because of the food, although food was, is, and always has been a huge part of my life and the lives of my friends. Lunch in our high school cafeteria was the one time nothing felt like it was being measured or judged or watched too closely. It was just us, sitting at our usual table in the same corner of the cafeteria. There was always this comfortable certainty that, for at least forty minutes or so, the four of us belonged exactly where we were.

We always sat against the far wall, backs to the windows, our trays spread out in front of us like a feast that had gotten slightly out of hand. There was never just one plate per person. There were always piles of cheeseburgers, boxes of pizza slices, fries spilled halfway onto napkins, sauces smeared where they didn't belong. Someone always had dessert even before finishing their entrée. Someone always stole a bite off someone else's tray without asking.

"Hey, Cyndi," I heard a voice call out to me as I wobbled my way into the cafeteria on any given day. "Over here!"

My very best friend Jolene was already halfway through her second slice of pizza when I sat down, chewing with that unapologetic confidence of hers, her gorgeous jet-black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, grease shining on her fingers. "They were about to run out," she said, as if that explained everything.

Suzanna arrived next, setting her tray down carefully despite the fact that it was stacked high-pasta, breadsticks, a brownie balanced precariously on top. She was quieter than the rest of us, raven hair falling into her face as she slid into her seat, but the way her eyes lit up when she eyed the food gave her away. Suzanna loved eating just as much as any of us. She just didn't announce it.

Gisela came last, a little breathless as always, clutching her tray with both hands like she was afraid someone might take it from her. She had on one of her oversized sweaters, glasses slipping slightly down her nose, her plate piled higher than she probably meant it to be. When she sat down, she glanced around quickly, then relaxed, shoulders dropping the moment she realized it was just us.

On the surface, my friends and I were just your average American teenage girls. We loved hanging out, eating, drinking, laughing too loudly, and talking endlessly about everything that mattered and everything that didn't. We shared our victories and our insecurities, and we showed up for one another without question, no matter how messy things got.

So yes, we were typical in most ways. There was just one small detail that made us stand out-we were all extremely fat.

When you saw the four of us together, it was obvious we belonged together. We were all big, undeniably so, but in very different ways.

My weight settled low, heavy through my hips and thighs, like everything I carried had decided to drop downward and stay there. My legs were thick from top to bottom, solid and powerful, my thighs pressing together when I stood, spreading wide when I sat. Chairs creaked under me sometimes, and I'd learned exactly how to angle myself so my big butt fit right where I needed it to. From the waist down, I took up space without apology.

Jolene was the opposite of me. Everything about her seemed to orbit around her middle. Her belly was enormous, round and prominent, pushing out in front of her no matter what she wore. Shirts stretched tight across it, riding up if she wasn't careful, the curve of her stomach impossible to hide or ignore. Even when she laughed or gestured or leaned forward over a table, her belly arrived first. It gave her a presence that was bold and unmistakable, like she led with it everywhere she went.

Gisela carried her weight up top. She was soft everywhere, but her chest was what people noticed first-even when she wished they wouldn't. Her breasts were heavy and full, pulling at the fabric of her sweaters, straining buttons, making her hunch her shoulders as if she could somehow make herself smaller. The rest of her body followed suit-rounded arms, a plush middle-but it was that fullness above that made her feel exposed, like she was always on display whether she wanted to be or not.

Suzanna was the hardest to pin down because she was just big everywhere. There wasn't a single part of her that wasn't thick, broad, or heavy. Her arms were wide, her waist soft and expansive, her legs thick, her shoulders solid. She didn't have one defining feature the way the rest of us did; she was simply large in a way that felt total, like her whole body had grown at the same steady pace. When she moved, it was with a deliberate calm, like she was used to carrying her size and had long since made peace with it.

Put us together, and we were a study in contrast and sameness all at once. Different shapes, different proportions, but the same undeniable truth running through all of us-we were big girls, and there was no hiding that fact from the world or from ourselves.


We ate the way people do when they feel like no one is watching them too closely. We all ate way too much, way too fast, and with absolutely no restraint whatsoever. Big bites were taken before the previous ones had been swallowed. Fingers were used instead of forks when it was easier. We talked through mouthfuls, laughed while chewing, sprayed crumbs everywhere as we did, looking like pigs in a sty. All four of us would typically have sauce smeared all over our faces. We wore those stains and smears like badges of honor. Nobody bothered pointing it out because we were all too busy shoveling in the next bite to care.

Food wasn't something we tiptoed around. It was something we shared. Jolene passed me a handful of fries without even looking. Suzanna slid her brownie toward Gisela when she noticed her staring at it. I broke off a piece of garlic bread and handed it over like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Eating together was our language. It was how we showed up for one another. No apologies. No counting. No pretending we were done when we weren't. We leaned back in our chairs, bellies heavy, fingers sticky, completely unashamed.

I remember thinking, not for the first time, that this table was the only place in the building where nobody ever felt small.

For those thirty minutes, surrounded by noise and clatter and the smell of hot food, we were untouchable. Safe. Full in every sense of the word.

I didn't know then-none of us did-just how quickly that feeling could be tested.

I noticed Kerry Walsh hovering around us before I noticed her filming us with her phone. Kerry was the stereotypical tall, skinny, blonde "mean girl" you found in nearly every high school across America, and she had this smug way of moving through the cafeteria like she owned the air around her, ponytail swinging, cruel laughter already half-formed on her lips. Wearing her boyfriend's varsity jacket, strutting about with perfect beauty-queen posture, and a small horde of girls trailing behind her like accessories-she was like a parody of herself.

She was prattling on to her friends about some party she was throwing or something-her friends hanging on every word, as if they were planning some sort of a coronation. She and her girls slowed down when she reached our table.

That was when I saw the phone, already lifted, already angled just right.

"Oh my God," Kerry said, her voice bright and loud enough to carry. "Look at these pigs in their natural environment." Her entourage started cackling like hens.

Jolene didn't even look up. She just reached for another handful of fries and dipped them, dripping, into cheese. I tore a corner off my garlic bread and kept chewing, eyes on my tray. If Kerry wanted a reaction, she wasn't getting one from me.

Suzanna didn't like it at all, though. She stiffened, eyes narrowing as she followed Kerry's gaze. "You got some kind of problem, Walsh?" she asked.

Kerry smiled wider. "Relax-I'm just taking pictures for the yearbook. I'm going around to all the tables."

She took a slow step closer, the phone tracking us, lingering on plates and hands and mouths. I could see the screen now-us framed together, mid-bite, crumbs and sauce and all.

"You pigs really eat like this every day?" Kerry asked, faux-amazed. "I mean, honestly, no wonder you're all such fat pigs."

"Not every day," Jolene shrugged, chewing with her mouth open. "Sometimes we get chicken fingers too."

I snorted before I could stop myself and took another bite. Loud. Deliberate.

Kerry laughed like that was exactly the response she wanted. "I swear, it's like you're a drove." She tilted her head, her perfect teeth shining under the cafeteria lights. "A drove of fat pigs!"

Suzanna stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. "Turn it off," she said, sharp and steady. "That's not funny."

Kerry's smile faltered for half a second, then snapped back into place. "Oh my God! Get over yourself!"

She panned the camera past Suzanna, past me and Jolene, and then it landed on Gisela.

That was when everything changed.

Gisela had gone completely still. Her shoulders hunched in on themselves, chin tucked down, eyes fixed on her tray like if she didn't move, maybe this wouldn't be real. Her hands had frozen halfway to her mouth, fork trembling slightly as sauce dripped back onto her plate.

Kerry lingered there. Just a beat too long.

"Aw," she said, softer now, almost sweet. "Look, here's the fattest piggy of them all."

Gisela didn't say anything. She didn't look up. She just let her fork fall back onto the tray with a small, hollow clatter.

I felt something twist in my chest then, but I kept eating anyway. So did Jolene. We chewed and swallowed and reached for more like nothing was wrong, like this wasn't happening at all. If Kerry wanted to turn us into a spectacle, she was going to have to work harder than that.

Suzanna stepped closer, blocking the phone with her body. "I said turn it off."

Kerry rolled her eyes and finally lowered the phone, still smirking. "Fine. God. You can't even joke anymore."

She backed away, already tapping at the screen, her thumbs flying. "Don't worry," she added lightly. "Everyone's gonna love this."

Then she was gone, laughter trailing behind her, leaving us sitting there with our food cooling and the noise of the cafeteria rushing back in around us.

No one said anything. Gisela kept her head down, and for the first time, our table didn't feel untouchable anymore.