The Fat Girl by Marilyn Sachs

was selfish. It wasn’t until I arrived at school that I remembered I’d forgotten all about Ellen.

seven
    She came in late as she usually did, banging against the doorway, dropping her books and clumping noisily to her seat. I tried to catch her eye to smile at her, but she didn’t look in my direction. Later, when I managed to get over to her and said, “Hi, Ellen, how are you?” she turned away and didn’t answer. I knew her mother had told her about my phone call.
    Norma went out of her way to heap attention and praise on her. She worked with her at the wheel and kept saying cheerily, “That’s great, Ellen, keep it up. You’re really getting there. Keep it up.”
    She must have said something to Dolores and Roger too because they came over to observe, and you could hear their encouraging voices mingling with Norma’s.
    I couldn’t work. I was too busy watching the fat girl.
    She couldn’t work either. All the attention being heaped on her made her even more clumsy than usual. Her pot collapsed on the wheel. And when Norma urged her to try another, she just shook her head, not looking at Norma, not looking at any of the kids standing around the wheel, cheering her on. It was horrible, and I felt responsible.
    “I’ll talk to you later,” I told Norma when the bell rang, and I hurried after the fat girl.
    “Ellen!” I called out. “Ellen, wait a second!”
    She kept right on moving, her head down. I caught up with her and said, “Listen, Ellen, I want to explain.”
    “Go away,” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
    “I know you’re sore,” I said, looking at her face, trying to get her to look at mine.
    “But I really was worried about you.”
    “You promised,” she said, still moving, still keeping her face down, “and you’re a liar. You told my mother. You told everybody. Go away! I hate you!”
    “I was worried about you, Ellen. That’s why I called your mother. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I didn’t know . . .”
    “What didn’t you know?” Ellen’s head snapped up, and she was glaring at me now, her little green eyes fierce.
    “Look, Ellen, I really want to be your friend. Where are you going now?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “Is this your last class? It’s mine and if you’re free, maybe we can go someplace and talk.”
    “I have to go home.”
    “Well, can I walk with you?”
    “No.”
    “How about later then?”
    She shook her head.
    “I know. How about coming out for a pizza with me later? How about that, Ellen, just the two of us? I really want to talk to you. Come on, Ellen, let’s go to Vince’s later and have a pizza. They have the best pepperoni pizza in the city. You’ll like their pizza. I always get them to add extra cheese . . .”
    I was jabbering on and on, but I could see her hesitating. Food, that was the way to get to her. Food.
    “Or we could have him make up Vince’s Special with Italian sausage, mushrooms, anchovies . . .”
    She was looking at me now, her head slightly tilted, considering. Was she wondering what her mother was cooking for dinner that night? What she’d be missing if she had pizza with me?
    “I mean, if you like pizza, we could go to Vince’s. Otherwise, we could go someplace else.”
    “I like pizza,” she said solemnly.
    “Good. I’ll pick you up about six. Is six okay?”
    She nodded slowly.
    “Well, that’s fine then, Ellen. I’ll see you later.”
    When I told Norma I was taking the fat girl out for pizza that night, her eyes filled with tears.
    “You’re a nice guy, Jeff. Did I ever tell you that before?”
    “I’m a jerk, Norma, and I’ve really screwed things up for the fat . . . I mean, Ellen. From now on, I’m always going to call her Ellen.”
    “Well, don’t be too hard on yourself. She has to take some responsibility too for what’s happening to her.”
    “You’re right, Norma, and maybe I can tell her so. I mean, I don’t want it to be too heavy. But maybe if she feels