Chapter 1 - Peter is back

Adele stared at her computer screen with a blank stare. Slowly her jaw fell open slightly.
She moved her mouse even before she realized what she was doing. Start. Power. Shut down.

Once the screen became black, she covered her face with her chubby hands, and her features finally began to wilt. She needed to get up. She needed to wash her face. She needed to take a shower and scrub all the filth off herself, and then to go to the gym, start a membership, work out there for the entire day, and go back home to another shower. She could do it once. She can do it again. She can still do it. But her head hurt, her head hurt as if it was all dried up and consuming itself. Peter. Peter here, again. Peter is a lead. Peter is a lead in a ballet that had a world tour. And she is also here, hardly leaving her apartment, over than 100 pound heavier, wearing stained t-shirt that stopped fitting 4 months ago.

And she was happy for him. She really was. But she also wasn’t.

She and Peter were a team through most of high school ballet classes. Even then, Adele knew Peter was much better than her. He had more soul and passion than she could ever manifest into her movements. But as much as he was exceptional at dancing, he lacked at the rest. He was hot tempered, had no regards to inner politics, bad in other classes, and sometimes she wasn’t sure if he was struggling to communicate in English, or if he was just pretending to aggravate others that tried passive aggressive tactics on him. But he was still an exceptional dancer.

This is what she told herself now, trying to create enough distance between them in her mind. But the truth is he was much more than exceptional dancer. He was kind and warm and fiercely protective. He was quick to laugh and had the most beautiful contagious laughter. He would poke fun at her often, teasing her, even to the point of mocking her at times – but his laughter would melt her pride and anger. And no one else was allowed to make fun of her aside of him. There wasn’t a lot he could do against the teachers, but all the other students knew that if they were messing with her, they were messing with Peter. And as kind as he was to her, Peter could be vicious to others.

Adele moved one of her hands slowly to press against her throat, her palm sinking against the soft new flesh that was accumulating there. She wanted to see Peter’s show. She wanted to see him dance again. But she was too anxious to leave her apartment looking as she did. And just the thought of going to a ballet performance – squeezing in one of the padded chairs and hear it creak, her belly overflowing on top of her thighs, people who need to pass through to reach their seats struggling to wiggle in front of her. Dear God no.

She stopped replying to Peter’s emails a few years back, about six months after he got his scholarship and a week after her mom passed away. Ballet just lost all meaning without her mom pushing and egging her onward, and with Peter far away. Not only stopped being a goal, it stopped being something desirable. It just became miserable. So, she took a year off to mourn with her dad, and then another year off to mourn on her own, and then another one to lose all the weight she had gain in these two years and put her life in order. Only she ended up gaining more weight and avoiding being seen in public. What if someone from school will see her now?

And here she was, in an apartment dad was renting for her, unemployed with no degree or profession or – her fingers tightened viciously at the soft flesh surrounding her throat – or even neck. She didn’t even possess a neck anymore. Just chins. Mom would have freaked out so bad seeing her now if she was alive.

Would Peter freak out?

No, Peter wouldn’t. If he’d recognize her, he’d just stare and start laughing. But she wouldn’t let him see her. She can’t.