The Girls

The sweater from sixth grade that she could still squeeze into was missing a piece on the bottom of the right sleeve and she thought of Carrie every time she looked at it. Carrie had said to her, “I know you get hungry sometimes, but hopefully never that bad.” It was one of the few comments Carrie had made to her that made sense and sat well with her.

She knew it was childish of her to keep wearing her sixth-grade sweater just because it still fit and she could tell the girls that. They were envious, thinking to themselves, how come I can’t fit into anything from that long ago?, when the reality was the sweater was too big for her back in sixth grade. Duh. But none of the girls ever figured it out.

That’s the thing with the girls—they have selective analytical thinking. Anything related to body image pumps them up competitively. Tails stand straight up. Ears turn to the source of the competition. Eyes open wide to soak in visuals like a sponge made of rods and cones. In one glance it’s time to break out of a maximum security prison.

Even though it was cruel to play these games with the girls, she enjoyed watching them climb over each other to fight for something that didn’t matter like a gaggle of grazing geese.

Personally she thought the sweater looked really childish, but she received a lot of compliments every time she wore it. Wearing the sweater was as much as a way to feed her ego while making the girls feel bad. And there was no way she was going to miss an opportunity to feel better than the girls like Carrie who wanted to do anything to tear her down.

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