Slim

Chapter One

Chloe

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, observing how my top clung tightly to my body while my jeans were a little bigger than what most girls wore. As a child, I used to imagine myself as a tall supermodel with the stereotypical "slim waist" that all the boys desired. But as the reality of being a "fat girl" set in, I faced constant bullying and ridicule. Weighing in at around two hundred pounds, I became the target of relentless taunts. Every day, as I walked through the school gates, I was greeted with hurtful comments like, "Hey Fatty, I heard you sweat bacon grease." The popular kids were merciless, chipping away at my self-esteem until it crumbled.

This all began when my mother fell ill. I struggled to cope with her absence, turning to food as my solace. I hoped people would understand that I was going through a difficult time and accept me for who I was. Unfortunately, society had different plans. Instead of empathy, I received the opposite. It seemed that no matter what I did, I couldn't escape the torment. Shaking off those negative thoughts, I finished applying my makeup and adjusted my top, trying to find some positivity. Maybe my body wasn't so bad after all. Yes, I carried a bit of extra weight around the edges, but I had to learn to accept it until I mustered up the courage to tackle the gym.

Attending church became a challenge for me too. The judgmental gazes from the elders and the pitiful glances became unbearable. I felt the urge to run away every time I set foot in that place. So I made the difficult decision to stop going, driven by my fear of judgment. Suddenly, I heard a horn honking outside, and a smile stretched across my face as I grabbed my phone and hurried towards the door. "Where are you going?" I heard my brother's voice from behind me. I turned to see him leaning against the wall, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

"To... the... I..." I stumbled over my words.

"Forget it. Just be careful," he said in frustration, and I went over to hug him. My brother was a tall, muscular guy with blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He had his hair in a bun on top of his head. After our brief embrace, he nudged me towards the door. "Don't come back too soon. Lexi is coming over," he informed me.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Lexi was a girl he used for a good time, completely unaware of my brother's intentions. Whenever he called, she would rush over as fast as her legs could carry her. I stepped outside towards the car, and the door swung open. Jake, one of my close friends, emerged. Jake and I had known each other for about a year since I transferred to their school. I had developed a crush on him but kept it to myself.

"Hey, Chloe," he greeted me with a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

I embraced him tightly before pulling away, returning his smile. "Hi, Jake," I responded.

He gallantly opened the car door for me, and as I got in, I was greeted by my other friends. Their presence immediately lifted my spirits.

"Hi, Chloe," they all chimed in as Jake settled into the seat beside me.

I responded with a smile and a laugh as my friend Camilla began choking on air. We both had a knack for clumsiness, which is why we became great friends.

"Are you ready to lose your party virginity?" Amy, another friend, exclaimed from the driver's seat, and everyone burst into laughter.

"Definitely," I replied, and it didn't take long for us to reach our destination.

As we arrived, my eyes widened at the sheer number of people pouring out of the overcrowded building. Amy parked the car, and we made our way towards the house. My heart pounded in my chest, and anxiety threatened to consume me as we drew nearer. Being me, I started hyperventilating, needing a moment to compose myself and regulate my breathing.

"Hey, it's okay," Jake reassured me, grabbing my hand and leading me inside. His touch sent a surge of excitement through me, though he never seemed to feel the same way. But that was okay; I couldn't force him to reciprocate my feelings.

Sometimes, I wished I had the power of mind control. The interior of the house was packed with drunk, sweaty teenagers, and the atmosphere amazed me. The pungent scent of alcohol filled the air, and the music reverberated throughout the house.

Thin wisps of smoke floated around, adding a dream-like quality to the scene, while intermittent flashes of colored laser beams illuminated the dancing crowd. Jake let go of my hand without warning, leaving me alone in the midst of the bustling crowd. Just my luck.

However, my attention was drawn to the changing music, and I watched as a couple passionately kissed. They seemed completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to the world around them. A pang of sadness gripped my heart when I realized it was Jake and Amy. What hurt the most was that Amy knew how I felt about him. But confrontation wasn't my style.

Instead, I decided to lose myself in the music, taking a drink from a stranger's hand and downing it. My heart skipped a beat when the screeching sound of a microphone cut through the music, abruptly silencing the room.

"I want to give a big thanks to Jake Phillips for bringing in our new candidate," a guy announced, standing on a table in the corner. I recognized him as Landon Taylor, the jock and jerk of our school who always managed to make me feel like absolute shit.

"You all know how this goes. We bring in a 'dummy,' and for the rest of the night, we treat them nicely," he sarcastically declared, and people's gazes turned toward me. "So, give it up for our next candidate, Chloe Hale!" he yelled, and I felt like I could pass out.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The world around me froze, and I struggled to maintain consciousness. Anxiety stabbed at my nerves, and my mind spiraled into panic. Laughter and taunts filled the room, amplifying my humiliation.

"Hey, fatty! Need help breathing?"

"Why don't you hit the gym, fatty?"

"Why don't you just die?"

I couldn't bear it anymore. I ran, escaping the crowd just as I always ran away from the problems I refused to face. Tonight marked the worst experience of my life. Tears streamed down my face as I sprinted towards the nearest escape route-the staircase. I didn't care where it led; I just needed to get away.

I rushed up the stairs in a panic and pushed open a random door. To my horror, I was met with an explicit scene: a guy reclining on a chair with a cigarette in his hand while a brunette was between his legs, her lips wrapped around him.

He glanced at me, raised an eyebrow, then resumed his activity without a word - completely unfazed by my presence. Not wanting to stay there any longer, I slammed the door shut and raced down the hallway, finding solace on the balcony where I crumbled to the floor.

Curling up, I shook violently as anxiety overwhelmed me. But amidst the overwhelming anxiety, a pungent smell of marijuana invaded my senses, making me wheeze slightly. Confused, I glanced up and realized that I wasn't alone in this space.

Across from me sat a guy, holding a blunt in his hand. His gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, I almost forgot why I had been crying. His beautiful dark skin glowed under the moonlight, adorned with an array of tattoos that covered every inch of his body.

Neatly braided cornrows cascaded down his shoulders, and his chiseled jaw tensed intermittently. His lips had a captivating shade of pink-a striking combination of features. And then there were his eyes. A light shade of gray, almost blending with the white of his eyes. They possessed a cold yet captivating allure.

I couldn't tear my gaze away as he took another long drag from the blunt. Normally, I would have disapproved of any form of smoking, deeming it repulsive.

But this was different. How could someone transform something perceived as negative into something so graceful? His eyes closed momentarily as he savored the smoke, exhaling it into the chilly air.

Then, his gaze found mine again, and a single, perfectly arched eyebrow rose in amusement. Embarrassment flooded over me, and my cheeks flushed with warmth. I quickly averted my eyes, realizing I had been staring for far too long.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing another man stepping outside. I recognized him as the person I had encountered just moments ago.

"Yo, Slim, is this girl bothering you, man?" he inquired, and my eyes widened in apprehension.

I silently prayed that they wouldn't throw me out, as facing the judgmental teens downstairs would be unbearable. Slim remained silent, merely shaking his head and signaling something with his hand.

"Hit her," his deep voice surprised me, resonating with darkness. A chill raced up my spine, and my eyebrows shot up in shock at his choice of words.

Observing my expression, the man from earlier burst into laughter and shook his head.

"It's not what you think it means," he chuckled, before disappearing inside briefly and returning with something in his hand.

It was another blunt, which he handed to me while gesturing for me to place it between my lips. As I complied, he crouched down to my level, holding a lighter and igniting the blunt.

I had never smoked before, let alone come this close to marijuana. This would be my first experience. Staring at the lit end of the blunt, I pondered how to go about smoking it.

Rolling his eyes, he took it from me, providing a demonstration. He inhaled deeply, seemingly savoring the smoke before exhaling it gracefully.

Well, here goes nothing.