Quota

Minus Zero (-0) : Let's Get Introduced

Franklin didn't know she was fat.

Well, no, technically that's a lie. She always knew she was fat, but not fat fat. Not really fat. Not the kind of fat that makes you want to rip off your own flesh and throw the chunks into an incinerator. She used to think she was okay. Perhaps just a little chunky. Maybe a little round around the edges. She wasn't fat, though. She was sure of that. She was just cushioned. She had a little padding. She was soft, like a pillow. She gave good hugs.

Franklin wasn't fat.

Fat. She used to think bitterly. What an ugly word it was. What an ugly, three letter, monosyllabic word that could ruin a life in a second. You can be anything you want, she spat, not even trying to hide the irony, just don't be fat. Don't be too skinny. Don't be broken. Don't be flawed. Because fat isn't beautiful. It just isn't. None of those things are. It's the way it's always been-

Now Franklin felt numb.

She first realised she was fat when her three-year-old nephew had asked her if she was pregnant. That's the thing, isn't it? It's hard to believe the people who you know hate you. It's even harder to believe the people who you know love you. But when innocent, three-year-old Jamie asked Franklin if she had a foetus growing inside of her, that was when she knew. Because it's the world that teaches kids to lie, and Jamie hadn't learnt how to lie just yet.

So that's how it came as this big realisation and the fact that she was F-A-T had finally dawned on her. And in hindsight, it shouldn't even have bothered her so much. Is this what other people had known all along? Boo-freaking-hoo. Why should they care what the number is when Franklin stands on the scale?

So what if Franklin was fat? What did it mean, really, in the whole grand scheme of things? The Earth was still turning, the sun was still shining, her heart was still beating and she still had that awful geography assignment due next week that she hadn't even started. What did her being fat have to do with any of it? If anything, she had extra insulation for the harsh Canadian winters. If she were to get shot, she liked to think that it would take longer for the bullet to get to her major arteries, maybe even ultimately saving her life. If she got stuck on a desert Island, like in Lost, and all the food ran out, she'd outlast all of them. Every single one.

And she was freaking awesome. There was that, too.

So, yeah, Franklin was fat. But it didn't really bother her anymore. At least, that's what she tried to act like. She had bigger things to worry about, anyway. Like, for instance, world peace. Global warming. The fact that that geography assignment still hadn't been completed.

Huh, she thought. She should really get on to that.

•••

Wilson knew he was a douche. If he didn't already know himself, then his sister would probably have told him. If not his sister, then Ham, his giant of a best friend, would have told him. If not Ham, then the girl with the headscarf that he accidentally bumped into three days ago would have told him. If not her, then, well, literally anyone else.

But he didn't see it.

The way Wilson saw it - and this was actually really quite amusing to his best friend, Ham - was that just because everyone else was wrong, that didn't make him a douche. Quite the contrary, actually. He saw a beauty in being misunderstood. He didn't like being right all the time. It was a blessing and a curse. Just like being blessed with his incredible good looks was a curse. And how that damn-sexy voice of his was a curse. Don't forget about his velvet, ebony skin, and his defined jawline, carved by Zeus himself. He even had green eyes, for goodness sake. Real green. He didn't want to be so perfect- in his experience, it could be a real nuisance - but he couldn't help it if he just had the gene, you know?

Ham snorted. What a complete and utter douchebag.

•••

It was Ameenah's first day. She'd hoped that she didn't have to explain yet again that no, her hijab wasn't a bold fashion statement, and that, no, she wasn't going to take it off and reveal her hair, because that's the whole point of freaking wearing it, and f*cking no, she wasn't going to f*cking blow up the school.

The boys from her old school were always smiling at that joke, but she really, f*- freaking, wasn't.

Ameenah sighed. She was so done with stereotypes. And she'd try to stop swearing, too. That was another resolution she'd made, along with the one where she'd try not to get into a fight on the first day. Deep breaths. Count to ten. Or, in Ameenah's case, 150. She's quite an angry girl, her auntie Bhavini had whisper-commented to her mother one time, the way in only an auntie Bhavini can. You should probably do something about that, before, you know, something happens.

Ameenah's mother only smiled like she knew something that auntie Bhavini didn't. This was why Ameenah loved her mother. She had a way of making everyone happy at once. Ameenah wished she could do that. Because, well, most of the time, Ameenah couldn't even make herself happy.

•••

To put it simply: Dylan Rodrigues was trying to make it. That wasn't her real name, by the way. Dylan Rodrigues. It was what she decided she wanted to be called. It sounded so much better than Dylan- freaking-Smith. Smith, for Christ's sake. It's like her dad wanted her to sound boring. It was probably the most common last name, like, ever.

Smith. She even hated the sound of it. The way it ended with the little 'th'. The way her Abuela always felt the need to add a little non-existence syllable to the end of it. Smith-a. That was her dad's name. Smith-a with an extra helping of grandma spit, as if it wasn't bad enough already.

So Dylan had decided. No more Smith(a). No more boring. She took her mother's maiden name and became the elusive, inspirational Dylan Rodrigues. Now that's someone that you can't ignore. Who even was this Dylan Smith gal? Sounded pretty lame to Miss Rodrigues: soon-to-be super star...

Pre-tty lame indeed.

•••

And what can be said about Aloe? He'd named his prosthetic leg Vera for obvious reasons. He had ginger hair. He was a gamer, through and through. Took introverted to the next level. Had yet to get over his crippling fear of large spaces and Hawaiian shorts. Aloe was in love with Ham. Anything else? Well, yes, but that is something to be found out a little later, as the story unfolds.

•••

And then there's Ham. The gigantic,
beanie-wearing, sushi-loving freak that everyone loved to love. This isn't just his story. It's about everyone. But it started with Ham. Ham, Ham, Ham.

It was all his fault, really.