peering at it with his brow furrowed.
“I’m not
going to the cops,” I asserted. “He’s family, much as I wish he wasn’t.”
“Hmmmn.”
Teina wrinkled his nose and delved back into the fridge, emerging with bread,
margarine and a pot of jam. He shot me a sideways look as he laid his haul out
on the counter in precise order and studied the result. “You might not have
much choice in the matter. The woman who serves behind the bar said she’d done
it for you.”
I
nodded. “Alysha. Yeah, she told me.” I wrinkled my nose. “They won’t come. I
haven’t made a complaint myself and I won’t press charges.”
Teina
raised one dark eyebrow. “You don’t have to. Assault is a criminal offence. If
he’s got previous, the cops will press their own charges.” He widened his eyes
with an I-told-you-so look. “Your face will be evidence.”
I
blinked in horror and he shook his head. “I think you’ll end up talking to them
whether you want to or not.”
“Not,” I
answered and glanced at the front door, hindered by the packet of peas which
obscured my vision. “Will you answer the door and say I’m out?”
Teina
smirked. “Don’t get me lying for you.”
“Can we
go to your place instead?” I panicked and dropped the hand holding the peas.
“Where do you live? You can hide me.”
He
stopped buttering the bread and laid the knife down, parallel to the slice. His
hesitation strengthened my misgivings and I dumped the peas next to his hand.
“It’s ok. I get it.” My heart fluttered with dread as I stalked to the bedroom
and flung the wardrobe door open. The neck of the sweater caught my cheek as I
shoved my head through, yanking my hair out of the hole and letting it tumble
over my shoulders and back in damp tresses. I finished buttoning my jeans as
Teina arrived in the doorway and leaned against the frame.
“I’m
confused,” he said, spreading his hands and searching my thunderous face
expression with wary eyes. “Yesterday you don’t want us to be seen together and
today you don’t care. Which is it, Ursula?”
“You’re
married!” I snorted, shoving my feet into socks and sitting on the bed to push
them into cowboy boots. My jeans shuddered over the boots and nestled next to
my ankles. “That’s why you won’t take me to your place. I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m not
married!” he objected, hurt making his eyes sparkle. “I told you I wasn’t and
I’m not. I don’t have a girlfriend either.”
“It was
too good to be true,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “Whoopdedoo, the fat
girl got laid.”
Teina’s
brow knitted in confusion. “You’re not fat, Ursula. What’re you talking about?”
My laugh
sounded cruel and I bit my sore lip, tasting blood as the cut reopened. I was
once.
‘ Fat
chicks don’t get boyfriends ’ my dad told me as I sat at the dinner table
and filled my face with donuts. At seventeen I decided I didn’t care but by
twenty-five it was too late. The fat chick morphed into the obese chick and
kept going until she was a morbidly obese chick. Dad married me off to Pete
believing nobody else would have me, but he hadn’t banked on a sterile marriage
leading to secret counselling. I learned about Chaotic Eating and recognised
myself in the description. Only a few stretch marks bore testament to the old
me; a silent reminder not to go back there. Hook’s Law threatened me every time
I sought to overindulge, knowing physics didn’t lie. ‘ The extension of an elastic object is directly
proportional to the force applied to it: F = k × e.’ My skin tone recovered its elasticity once, but there
was no guarantee it would again. I had no desire to wear my flesh around my
ankles like a pair of wrinkly stockings.
“Sod off!” I snapped
at Teina. “Why are you even here? You know everything about me but it’s one
way. I don’t need any more parasites in my life, thanks. I’m not shagging you,
so you might as well go.” I strode into
“I’m not
going to the cops,” I asserted. “He’s family, much as I wish he wasn’t.”
“Hmmmn.”
Teina wrinkled his nose and delved back into the fridge, emerging with bread,
margarine and a pot of jam. He shot me a sideways look as he laid his haul out
on the counter in precise order and studied the result. “You might not have
much choice in the matter. The woman who serves behind the bar said she’d done
it for you.”
I
nodded. “Alysha. Yeah, she told me.” I wrinkled my nose. “They won’t come. I
haven’t made a complaint myself and I won’t press charges.”
Teina
raised one dark eyebrow. “You don’t have to. Assault is a criminal offence. If
he’s got previous, the cops will press their own charges.” He widened his eyes
with an I-told-you-so look. “Your face will be evidence.”
I
blinked in horror and he shook his head. “I think you’ll end up talking to them
whether you want to or not.”
“Not,” I
answered and glanced at the front door, hindered by the packet of peas which
obscured my vision. “Will you answer the door and say I’m out?”
Teina
smirked. “Don’t get me lying for you.”
“Can we
go to your place instead?” I panicked and dropped the hand holding the peas.
“Where do you live? You can hide me.”
He
stopped buttering the bread and laid the knife down, parallel to the slice. His
hesitation strengthened my misgivings and I dumped the peas next to his hand.
“It’s ok. I get it.” My heart fluttered with dread as I stalked to the bedroom
and flung the wardrobe door open. The neck of the sweater caught my cheek as I
shoved my head through, yanking my hair out of the hole and letting it tumble
over my shoulders and back in damp tresses. I finished buttoning my jeans as
Teina arrived in the doorway and leaned against the frame.
“I’m
confused,” he said, spreading his hands and searching my thunderous face
expression with wary eyes. “Yesterday you don’t want us to be seen together and
today you don’t care. Which is it, Ursula?”
“You’re
married!” I snorted, shoving my feet into socks and sitting on the bed to push
them into cowboy boots. My jeans shuddered over the boots and nestled next to
my ankles. “That’s why you won’t take me to your place. I’m such an idiot.”
“I’m not
married!” he objected, hurt making his eyes sparkle. “I told you I wasn’t and
I’m not. I don’t have a girlfriend either.”
“It was
too good to be true,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “Whoopdedoo, the fat
girl got laid.”
Teina’s
brow knitted in confusion. “You’re not fat, Ursula. What’re you talking about?”
My laugh
sounded cruel and I bit my sore lip, tasting blood as the cut reopened. I was
once.
‘ Fat
chicks don’t get boyfriends ’ my dad told me as I sat at the dinner table
and filled my face with donuts. At seventeen I decided I didn’t care but by
twenty-five it was too late. The fat chick morphed into the obese chick and
kept going until she was a morbidly obese chick. Dad married me off to Pete
believing nobody else would have me, but he hadn’t banked on a sterile marriage
leading to secret counselling. I learned about Chaotic Eating and recognised
myself in the description. Only a few stretch marks bore testament to the old
me; a silent reminder not to go back there. Hook’s Law threatened me every time
I sought to overindulge, knowing physics didn’t lie. ‘ The extension of an elastic object is directly
proportional to the force applied to it: F = k × e.’ My skin tone recovered its elasticity once, but there
was no guarantee it would again. I had no desire to wear my flesh around my
ankles like a pair of wrinkly stockings.
“Sod off!” I snapped
at Teina. “Why are you even here? You know everything about me but it’s one
way. I don’t need any more parasites in my life, thanks. I’m not shagging you,
so you might as well go.” I strode into
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