FICTION: Skinny Tea, Chekwube O. Danladi
Skinny Tea Chekwube O. Danladi The summer before we started 9th grade, a month after we were both finally fifteen, Georgie and I decided that we would stop eating. We made resolutions. Georgie wanted to stop eating so that people would no longer make fun of the thick rolls that coated her belly, chin, arms, and thighs. I wanted to lose weight so that I could fit into a too-small yellow thrifted bathing suit that mama bought me, because she couldn’t return it. The day we decided, we were on the swings at Towanda Park, behind the Metro station. Georgie and I were competing with each other to see who could swing higher. Her thick legs were tucked behind her, woodchips gathering in the ridged toes of her beaten Adidas every time she came down into her inverted arch. Competition was always the game with Georgie: who could swing the highest, who could use the biggest words, who could read the most books in one week. Our competition was always about self-improvement and self-preservation. We were each other’s only best friends. We hid together in the school library during lunch breaks because we were too shy to eat... Read More
