Chapter Text
High school, for the most part, sucks ass. You can't skip class, because your brother would kick your ass if he found out, and besides, there's nowhere good to go even if you did. You've learned to survive as best you can on the time you have when you're not dealing with shitty teachers. Like lunch.
Lunch is good, because lunch isn't class and you can talk as much as you want. Plus, you get to pick through whatever fancy French shit Lalonde brings to eat- her mom has a caterer do all their food, or something, so it's always good and usually there's something chocolate.
If you weren't so dead-set on appearing apathetic, you'd even say you looked forward to it.
You're sprawled across one of the outdoor picnic tables waiting for her when she finds you, carrying a lavender lunchbox you know is filled with compartments containing some pseudo-European delicacy for you to pilfer. You sit up, swinging so your feet rest on the bench below you and resting your elbows on your knees.
Rose, ever proper, arranges herself accordingly before opening her lunchbox.
You're more than a little disappointed.
Where normally there'd be pastries or stew or still-warm bread, there's an assortment of raw vegetables delicately placed into their allotted compartments.
It offends you even looking at it.
"I've started a new diet," she says, noticing your expression. "Mother said I was looking thin, so."
You flick the side of her plastic bento (or whatever the fuck it is) and scowl. "So you're, what? Not eating?"
She sniffs disdainfully, scooting the box in front of her and plucking a cherry tomato out, holding it between her perfectly manicured fingernails and inspecting it. She frowns. "No, I'm just eating less."
You shake your head. "Right, makes perfect sense."
Rose raises an immaculately plucked eyebrow, looking you up an down. "If you're interested, I can send you a link to the blog. It's very detailed."
She pops the tomato into her mouth, chewing and swallowing.
There's a challenge in her voice and as much as you hate yourself for it, you take the bait.
"Alright, fine. I'll check it out," you say nonchalantly. "Been thinkin' about maybe slimming down a little."
That was a lie. You've been meaning to bulk up, at least in your shoulders, try to balance out your wide hips.
You're not really sure why you said that.
She gives you an approving look, tearing off the corner of her napkin and writing down a url in sloping purple cursive, passing it to you. You stuff it in your pocket without even looking at it and she purses her lips.
"Food," you demand, and she hands you a baby carrot. You frown and she rolls her eyes.
"Childish," she scolds.
You don't care.
She's right about the detail, you'll give her that. The mod's about page goes on for-fucking-ever, and you're pretty sure her goal is to answer each ask with a novel focusing on her own achievements. Even the captions she puts on the over-filtered photos of her salads are at least a paragraph.
Her reblogs consist mostly of pictures of people who are everything you're not. As you scroll through her first page you run through a checklist for each photo.
Skinny? Yep. White? Like paper. Femme? Always. Cis? Of course.
It goes on like that for a while before you come to a picture of a pretty Asian girl, whose thick tummy and wide hips stand out in a sea of thigh gaps. She's pushing her long bangs out of her face with one hand, the other holding up her camera phone so she can take a picture of her mirror.
Her panties have little skulls on them.
You're distracted from her smile and tits and legs by the comments below the picture, bright blue text standing out in garish contrast to the dark background of the blog.
"day 0ne! h0ping t0 dr0p tw0 sizes bef0re swimsuit seas0n 0u0"
You frown, because you don't think she needs to drop any. Then again, it's her body, not yours. You glance back at the comments.
"@the-handmaids-tale: oh sweetie, h8 to 8reak it to you 8ut you need to lose a lot more than two! 8ut I guess we all start somewhere ::::\"
You turn away from your laptop, feeling sick to your stomach. You palm your phone, debating, then shoot Rose a text.
TG: yo this chick seems like a total bitch rose idk why youd follow her advice
It takes her a second to respond, and when she does you're a little surprised at how readily she agrees with you.
TT: Yes, although I'm sure she'd prefer 'Miss 8itch'.
TT: Her methods work, though, as I'm sure you've seen from her own photos.
TG: didnt make it that far, i got kinda turned off before i decided to check her selfie tag, yknow
TT: Understandably. She is a bit... Distasteful when it comes to beginning dieters.
TT: That being said, I don't think it makes her any less of a valid source.
You frown again, wrinkling your nose.
TG: yeah, right
TG: listen ill hit you up later bro needs me
TT: Of course.
She knows you're lying, she always does, but she lets it go for the time being.
You'd be thankful if you weren't worried she'd hold it over you later.
You set your phone on the desk, deciding to at least check the girl's selfie tag before you condemn her as a complete and total bitch.
Rose was right.
She's stick-thin, to the point you're surprised her legs even hold her up. The baggy flannel over-shirts she seems to favor do nothing to hide the fact that she's dangerously underweight.
You decide to text Rose again.
TG: work?
TT: Hm?
TT: Have you finished with your brother already?
TG: yeah he was fine after all
TG: listen i dont think you should be following her bullshit diet tips
TG: shes a fucking poster girl for bulimia or whatever its fucking gross
You wait anxiously as Rose types a response, deletes it, and starts again.
TT: I thought you'd like her.
You feel your face twist in disgust.
TG: why the fuck would i
TG: shes awful
TT: Did you read her 'About'?
TG: not really i kinda skimmed it though
TT: Go look at it again. First paragraph, third line, specifically.
You huff, swiveling around in your chair to do as you're told. You scan the first few lines of text, unimpressed by the girl's intro. There's nothing new or important or- oh.
TG: so shes trans too why does that matter to me
TT: I just thought you'd appreciate how well her transition seems to be going.
TT: She's very beautiful.
TG: she looks like shes dying
You wince, the words looking a lot harsher on a screen than they sounded in your head.
TG: look just
TG: be careful okay
TT: When have you known me to be anything but cautious?
You can hear the smile in her words and it sets you at ease, at least for a moment, because she's teasing which means this isn't something you need to worry about.
TG: youve got me there lalonde youre a practically a paragon of needless anxiety when it comes to potentially dangerous health fads
TG: for serious though
TG: dont do anything over the top just to piss off your mom
TT: Oh, I wouldn't dare.
TT: You needn't fret, Dave, I'll be fine.
You frown.
TG: you better be
She sends you a "<3" and you scrunch your face in mock disgust before remembering she can't actually see you and feeling a little ridiculous.
You turn back to your computer, fully intending to close out of the-spindly-spinneret's blog and never go back to it again.
Except, Rose was right. This girl looks so cis she had you fooled, and-
You blanch, catching yourself before you can finish the thought.
She's not 'fooling' anyone, you remind yourself, and you can hear Jade's voice chime in the back of your mind. "Looking cis doesn't make your identity any more or less valid!"
You glance down at yourself, at the thickness of your hips and thighs that sets you apart from other boys. You poke at your stomach, discomfort running through you.
You open up pesterchum.
TG: yo jade i got a question
Her response is almost immediate, and you can feel yourself relax as you watch her bright green text fly across the screen.
GG: hi dave!!! whats up?
You sigh, pushing your glasses up onto your head and rubbing your eyes.
TG: alright real talk
TG: do i like
TG: pass well
TG: and dont give me that "passing is a social construct set up by cishets" bullfuckery because im asking you
TG: queer to queer
TG: i look like a dude, right?
GG: dave!!! of course you do!
GG: youre the most gross boyish dude i know :)
TG: okay yeah but i mean looks-wise
GG: you look like the manliest man ever. pinky swear!
TG: right
GG: dave, is everything okay?
TG: yeah shits all fine
TG: just thinking maybe i might try and lose some weight around my hips you know
GG: >:/
GG: dave, you dont need to lose weight to look like a boy!
TG: yeah yeah i know im just
TG: itll make buying pants easier is all
GG: hmmmmm...
GG: as long as youre doing it for you and youre careful about it, then go for it, i guess! but you know you can tell me if theres more going on, right?
TG: of course
TG: you know youre my main gal when it comes to shit like this
GG: im your main gal for everything! >:)
TG: damn straight girl u my main side ho
GG: hell yeah >:))))
TG: hell yeah B)
You catch yourself smiling at the screen.
TG: yo jade?
TG: thanks
GG: its totally fine, dave! besides, what are friends for?
TG: yeah but still
TG: thanks
TG: i needed that
GG: :P
GG: ill always be here if you need me!
TG: i know
GG: <3
TG: gay
TG: <3