He Lost His Fat Fiancée

"Hey Nate, you and Scarlett are basically a package deal for Princeton, right?" a guy across the table smirked.

"Yeah, man! First the joint graduation party, then what? Moving into the same dorm?" another guy chimed in. "My mom's already asking when the Bennett and Hayes families are making that childhood engagement official!"

Laughter and the clinking of glasses cut through the low jazz music. It was our senior farewell dinner at the country club. Three generations of family ties meant everyone in our elite private high school assumed Nathan and I were a done deal.

I sat right next to him, gripping my silk napkin. At 190 pounds, I felt like I was suffocating in my custom-fitted gown.

"Are you guys deaf or just stupid?" Nathan turned his head, his blue eyes sweeping over me with naked disgust. "Who the hell commits to a 190-pound fatty? It’s just an old family joke. I only tolerate her because of our parents."

The room erupted into roaring laughter.

Chloe Vanderbilt, the head cheerleader, leaned over from Nathan's other side. "Come on, Nate. Don't be so mean." She smirked, tossing her perfect blonde curls. "Scarlett has a great... personality. Right, guys?"

More laughter.

My chest tightened. Seven years. I quit the track team in middle school because he once casually mentioned, "Girls covered in sweat are gross." I threw my running shoes, watching from the bleachers as he became the star quarterback. And this was my reward.

A chair scraped harshly against the floor. Ethan Carter, the student body president, stood up. He threw his napkin onto his plate.

"You're completely blind, Nathan," Ethan said. "Scarlett has more talent in a single design sketch than you have in your entire playbook. Nobody in this room comes close. If she ever slims down, you wouldn't even be fit to tie her shoes."

The entire table burst into a louder uproar. A few varsity guys pounded the table. Nobody took Ethan's words seriously.

Nathan scoffed. "Tie her shoes? Bro, I'll make a bet right now." He pointed a finger straight at my face.

"If she actually loses the weight and looks even half as good as Chloe, I, Nathan Hayes, will get on my knees and apologize in front of the whole school."

He paused. "But let's be real. At 190 pounds, she'd probably pass out running a 400-meter dash."

"Oh, sweetie, don't listen to them," Chloe cooed. She reached over with tongs and dropped three massive, cream-filled eclairs right onto my plate. "Here, eat up. You and dessert are a match made in heaven anyway. Sugar fixes everything, right?"

One of Nathan's linebackers snorted. "Yeah, exactly! Who needs a fiancé anyway? Just give Scarlett the dessert menu and she's set for life!"

"True love right there!" another cheerleader chimed in.

The entire table erupted into fits of laughter.

"Good one," Nathan chuckled, not even glancing my way. He turned his back to me completely, leaning in to whisper something in Chloe's ear.

I stared at the eclairs. Seven years of devotion flashed through my mind. I remembered being eleven years old, running half a mile in the blazing sun just to get him a first-aid kit when he scraped his arm. I remembered every homework assignment I did for him, every game I cheered at.

It all shattered right here.

I stood up. "Nathan."

My voice was quiet, but it carried an edge that made him stop laughing. He glanced over his shoulder.

"You will regret every single word you said tonight," I said, looking him dead in the eye.

Nathan raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to fire back a sarcastic remark. “Ahh? I Regret? I never...”

I didn't give him the chance. I turned on my heel, pushed open the doors, and walked straight out of the banquet hall.

I walked fast, heading toward the riverbank behind the club. Rapid footsteps clicked on the pavement behind me.

"Scarlett! Wait up!"

It was Mia. Her dark eyes were blazing with fury. "I swear to God, I am going back in there right now to dump the punch bowl over his stupid blond head. I'll key his car. I'll—"

"Don't waste your time, Mia." I cut her off. I turned to look at the dark water of the river.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice dropping.

"He said I'd never lose the weight," I said evenly. "He said I couldn't even run 400 meters without passing out."

Mia squeezed my hand tight. "He's an arrogant asshole."

"I'm going to run, Mia," I looked at her, my voice steady. "I'm going to run so fast he won't even see my dust."

An hour later, I locked the door to my bedroom.

I walked straight to the full-length mirror and stripped off the suffocating gown. I stood there in my underwear, staring at the 190 pounds of fat hiding the girl I used to be. There was no trace left of the former state junior cross-country champion.

I leaned closer to the glass. I traced the high bridge of my nose, the narrow shape of my eyes, and the small brown mole at the corner.

Ethan was right. The bones were there. They were just buried. All because a stupid boy said sweat wasn't pretty.

I walked over to my desk and flipped open my laptop. Two unread emails sat at the top of my inbox.

The first was my acceptance letter to Princeton University. Nathan was going there. Chloe was going there. It was the master plan our parents had laid out.

The second was a full-ride scholarship offer to the Rhode Island School of Design.

I looked back at the mirror, Ethan's voice suddenly echoing in the quiet room.

"If she ever slims down, you wouldn't even be fit to tie her shoes."

Was it true?

I didn't know.

But tonight, I made two decisions.

First, lose the weight. Target: 130 pounds.

Second, decline Princeton. I wasn't following him anymore.