When I completed my Junior year, they called me the champ because I was the head of the football team.

As well they should have. To them, and to myself, there was nothing more important than my athletic success. And my relationship with Crystal.

Crystal was the school hottie. The head cheerleader. The queen of everyone else’s drool. She was already modeling professionally. And she was all mine. When I first hooked up with her, it seemed great. The most admired and lusted after girl in the school wants me.

Not that I was surprised. Of course she wanted me...I was football captain. But...all the same, it solidified my standing as the most admired man on campus. And that’s ALL it did, believe me.

Although I was glad I was popular and I had a popular girlfriend, I wasn’t happy that summer. Crystal was generally an unkind, snobby brat. Who was obsessed with sex, I might add. That wouldn’t bother most guys, but I’m not most guys. I don’t want to have sex four or five times a day. It just detracts from the experience for me.

As if there was any real experience. With her it was just fucking. No making love, no sensual anything, just straight fucking. Again, I thought I should be happy with that, but as the summer was drawing to a close, I started to re-think that idea more and more. I had talked to her about it a few times, but she just made some crack about me not being a real man.

It was at my 18th birthday party, a few days after school started, that I finally got fed up with her. Every guest had gone home, and it was just the two of us. I was hugging her close and attempting to sleep (it was 3 AM) but she kept hitting me.

“I’m fucking horny! You’re the captain of the football team but you don’t have an ounce of testosterone in you, do you know that? I’ve talked to my girlfriends about you and they think you’re abnormal” My head pounded with the dual pains of sleep deprivation and the fact that she was talking about me behind my back.

“We can fuck tomorrow before we go to school.” Oh, but no. That wasn’t good enough. She had to get her needs met now. She lifted herself away from the sofa and started to remove her clothes.

“Come on and DO me you asshole!” She beat her hands on my back, trying to get me awake.

Crystal’s figure was EXACTLY what playboy and every other magazine said it should be. Rail thin, with huge tits. At first, she was totally sexy to me, but after a while...I started to not get as aroused by her anymore. I think that a lot of it had to do with knowing what kind of person she was, but there was probably something else there, too. I thought she was too thin, too thin to cuddle anyway. I kept thinking I would crush her under my muscular body.

I didn’t dare bring that up, not with her dieting obsession. And, even if she did gain a few pounds, I don’t think it would have mattered to me. She had made me feel like crap too many times now. I groggily sat up and pointed towards the door.

“Goodbye.” She looked puzzled. “That’s it, its over with you and me.” For a moment, she seemed to genuinely be confused as to why I would be saying this. Then, I could physically see her self rationalize that it was my entire fault. She furrowed her grow, uttered a “Humph!” and gathered her clothes. I was asleep before she left the house.

...

The next day, I wad determined to get another girlfriend, mainly to show everyone else that it wasn’t my fault, it was hers. I had left her, she hadn’t left me. I already had the perfect girl in mind: Lacy Porter. Lacy wasn’t exceedingly popular or attractive, so dating her would be a slap in the face to Crystal’s pride and vanity. Also, by showing the high school that I, Sam Miller, was going to go for a relatively average girl over Crystal would further damage her reputation. I knew it was vindictive and wrong, but I wanted to get her back for telling me that I was the one that was wrong.

That and the fact that Lacy was very different than Crystal. They were both very thin, but that’s about all they had in common. Crystal had tanning-both tanned skin, Lacy had library induced pasty skin. Crystal had wavy blonde hair, Lacy had straight brown hair. Crystal was stuck up, popular and not very smart; Lacy was humble, shy, and very intelligent.

I knew that there were basically two kinds of girls that hung out in libraries: those who wanted to be like Crystal, but they were too shy, or those who vehemently disliked girls like Crystal and didn’t buy into the whole “Cosmo is my Bible” way of thinking. I didn’t know Lacy well enough to see which girl she was, but either way, current events could be used to my advantage. Either she’d think I was taking her on a one way journey to popularity, or I was turning my back on being popular and wanted a girl who was more down to earth.

When I showed up at my classes the next day, the air was filled with the tension of gossip. I knew that the time was today, now. I had one day for them to think “They broke up!” The next day, it would be “She left him because...” and Crystal would supply as many reasons as she could think up. I had to act today to make it seem like I had been thinking about dating Lacy for a while and I was just waiting for the right time to break it off with Crystal.

When I met Lacy in the library, she was huddled in a corner, reading. I acted quickly, sitting down next to her and asking “What are you reading?”

She put the book down, looking up but seeing no one. Then, she turned to the right and saw me sitting next to her. Her face flushed for a moment, and she struggled to say something.

“Dying to Please...um, it’s a book about...um...” This was going even better than I expected. She’s like putty in my hands...

“Why do you ask?” She looked so horribly nervous.

“I was just curious. I see you reading here a lot, you know.” She rapidly nodded. “What other things do you like, besides reading?”

“Oh, I don’t know...uh, um...” I interrupted her.

“What about eating a nice meal, dancing?” Oh, man. Somehow when I had pulled lines like this on girls before it just hadn’t felt this good. Perhaps it was because this girl had such low self confidence.

“Yeah, I like those things.” She turned away from me now. I could tell she was expecting some cruel joke about her spending all her time engrossed in books.

“How about it, then? Tomorrow night?”

“What?” For a moment, I thought I had been just a little too forward.

“That is, if you want to.” Her face wore a look of concern.

“Aren’t you dating Crystal?” I shook my head.

“I broke up with her last night.” The look on her face changed, seeming to say “Why would you want me?”

“Ok...sure.” She spoke softly and slowly. I grasped her hand, and smiled at her.

...

I had planned it perfect. One day of gossip about Crystal and me breaking up, one day of gossip about me asking out Lacy, one day of gossip about how the date went. There was no cause or time for thoughts of why we had broken up. It was obvious...Lacy. The attention was all on her and I now; Crystal was yesterday’s news, tossed away baggage. She still had her status as the most beautiful girl in the school in most people’s eyes, but she couldn’t have the status of being able to get any guy now, and her precious spotlight was gone for a while.

After what seemed like forever, it was time for me to pick Lacy up. She was dressed in a somewhat conservative dress, and her face was heavily smeared with makeup. I thought she looked prettier without it but I appreciated her desire to look nice for me.

“You look amazing.” It wasn’t true, but it was the right thing to say. However, my comment caused her to deeply blush, making her to truly look amazing.

After 15 minutes of small talk in the car, we arrived at the restaurant and tried to engage her on a level she’d appreciate: and intellectual one. I wasn’t the biggest reader in the world (I preferred the rush of sports) but I had some knowledge.

“Do you usually like symbolic fictional novels, or do you prefer non fiction that directly takes aim at societal issues?” It was a totally fabricated statement, designed to impress her.

“You can get a lot from a symbolic book, but the people who can understand the meaning behind it are already aware of the issues that it raises. A non fictional ‘direct aim,’ as you call it, helps those who need to be helped, while a fictional symbolic story just validates the claims of people who already have the knowledge you are trying to give them.” Woah. Woah! At first I felt totally overwhelmed. She had outdone me...but...I think I understood it, at least to some extent. The next few statements I said were honest, because I wanted to talk with her. She was so smart, and so interesting.

Eventually, I suggested that we dance. As we rose from the table, I noticed she had barely touched her food.

“Did you like your meal?” She nodded.

“Oh, yes, but I can’t eat too much.” I wrote it off as first date nerves and didn’t think about it for the rest of the evening. Soon, we were dancing, and my mind wasn’t thinking about food or symbolism, or even her. I was just taking the entire experience in. This was really meaningful, it meant something. It felt like it, anyway.

...

The next day was supposed to be my victory day. I was parading Lacy around, even walking arm and arm with her. But, I did not like what happened. Instead of the popular girls that hung out close to my football crowd rejecting Lacy, they welcomed her with open arms. And suggestions about how to tan her skin, wear her hair, what magazines to buy... Crystal wasn’t there, but it seemed like she might have been. It was then that I realized that her obsession with sex was just the last straw...what had really peeved me was that entire snobby, looks-obsessed way of thinking. It was obvious that Lacy wanted to be popular, and if I didn’t do something, she was going to trade away everything she had to become snobby and obsessed with her looks.

I quickly pulled her away and said that we were going to eat somewhere else. However, after a few minutes, I realized she had to make the choice for herself.

“Look, Lacy...being in with the popular crowd is great and all, right?” She nodded. “But, it’s not everything, you know?” She seemed confused.

“What’s important...your looks or your intelligence?” I had completely changed that around, it wasn’t her looks or her intelligence that was on trial, but her kindness. But I didn’t think I could sell the idea that thinking about your looks too much makes you a snob.

“I thought you would want me to be like those people.” I leaned into her slight frame and hugged her.

“I liked you because of who you are, not who I wanted to make you into. You are great the way you are now.” She stared up at me with a look of pure innocence and vulnerability.

“Really?” I stroked her cheek.

“Really, Lacy.” I wanted to be this sweet to her. I wanted to totally dote on her and make her feel how she was feeling right now. Maybe I had been so starved for tenderness in my relationship with Crystal that I was trying to get it in spades here.

“I...won’t change.” I nodded, and we walked back into the crowd.

...

My friends, at first, were too happy that Crystal was available to insult me for leaving her and dating someone who was less attractive. In fact, they had no comment about Lacy whatsoever; they were solely interested in thinking up what pickup lines would be good for Crystal.

“What did you use, Sam?” I thought about it for a moment.

“Your legs look nice. What time do they open?” It was far from the truth, but it earned a hooting and backslapping response from them. I smiled, feeling great that I could leave Crystal and still be the champ.

During the rest of the football practice, my mind was focused on my future. I was good at football, really good, but I didn’t think was good enough to play professionally. So I shouldn’t major in it. But how else would I get a scholarship in anything? My grades weren’t that good. What would I be if I wasn’t the football captain?

I didn’t like the idea of all of the rules I had learned to master being gone. I wanted to stay here, where I knew exactly what to do.

...

Even though Lacy did not go to the tanning salon or bleach her hair, or join the cheerleading squad she was accepted into the popular girl crowd. One day, as they were eating lunch together, I noticed it.

Lacy wasn’t eating. In fact, I couldn’t remember her eating in any previous days that I had seen her. She looked so frail and bony...was she an anorexic?

In a rather bold move, I asked her to come over to my house for dinner, just the two of us. (My parents were away for the weekend.) We hadn’t been dating long, and I was counting on her trusting me that I wasn’t going to try anything sexual.

“Of course! I’d love to come.” I spent a few lunches in the library after that, trying to see how best to combat an eating disorder. I decided the best way to do it was head on.

...

“I hope you’re hungry!”

“No, not really.” The answer I was expecting quickly came from her lips.

“Oh, you must have had a big lunch, then.” She shook her head.

“Lacy, look at me.” She stared up at me, her eyes full of shame. “How much did you eat today?” She glanced down, not saying anything.

“Nothing?” She weakly nodded. “What about other days, Lacy. How much do you usually eat?” No answer.

“Lacy, I think you may be anorexic.” She started to cry.

“Don’t say that!” she sputtered out. “You say it like you’re some doctor who’s come to put me away.”

I decided to ditch my planned “I just want to help” line. Instead, I decided on a more unorthodox approach.

“How fat do you think you’d be if you ate normal meals and exercised every day?” She looked up at my quizzically. I had caught her off guard, that was good.

“I dunno.” They way I had phrased it, it didn’t sound appropriate to say fat, but that’s what she was thinking.

“I guess just...sort of fat.” I nodded.

“Is that so horrible? Really?” She nodded, starting to sob again. I hugged her close and rubbed her back.

“Tell me why, Lacy. Why is it so horrible?”

“I’d be all blooby and flabby and gross! Ugh!” I hated hearing this come from Lacy’s mouth. I hated the fact that even before the popular girls talked with her, she was already somewhat in their way of thinking. I hated how this library flower could be withered by magazines she didn’t even read.

“Would you die?” Again, the question hit her off guard. “Would you die if you were like that?”

“I don’t think I would die...” I cut her off.

“Then it’s an improvement over what’s happening now. Because you will die if you do this. Do you get that? You’ll die. You’ll shrivel up and die.” I was starting to get frustrated. I had taken too many detours, and now I didn’t know what I was doing and I certainly wasn’t reaching her.

“Think of how bad my life would be if I was a huge cow. You’d leave me, everyone would make fun of me...” I shook her head.

“I wouldn’t leave you.”

“You’re just saying that.” I shook my head.

“I love you for who you are in here.” I placed my hand onto her heart.

Oh my God...did I just say that I LOVED her...I love her???

“Really?” I paused...not for dramatic emphasis, but because I truly didn’t know the answer. I had only dated her for a few weeks!

“Really.” I decided that it was the best thing to say and she probably was too emotional to catch that I said the word “love.”

“Can you eat? Please? Just a small dinner?” She reluctantly nodded, and I went into the kitchen and made some low fat vegetable dishes. I didn’t want to push my luck.

She seemed starved the way she tore into the food, probably because she was. In just a few minutes, the food was gone.

“Oh...I ate too much.” At first, I thought she was complaining that she had consumed too many calories.

“They are just vegetables. It was a non fat meal. Even the salad dressing was non fat.” She shook her head.

“No, my stomach hurts.” I had forgotten about that. I read that her stomach had probably shrunk from not using it for so long. I walked up to her and rubbed it from outside her silky dress.

“Does that feel good?” She nodded, and shed a few tears.

“Thank you, Sam.” I kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you for eating.”

...

Each night after that, she came over to my house to eat, and I even got her to eat a small lunch at school. My parents were thrilled with her after she wowed them with her intellect. When she left, they were telling me a million times how they were glad I was dating this girl instead of Crystal.

Lacy did, of course, gain a small amount of weight. Enough to bump her up to “thin” from “extremely skinny.” She didn’t seem to mind, or even notice. She did seem very energetic and happy. I felt so wonderful that I had helped her.

One night, I suggested that if she took up a running program, she could offset a dessert after dinner. She got a bright look on her face, as if she hadn’t had dessert in years.

“Oh, yeah! That would be wonderful!” I decided we would go to an ice cream parlor. We orded one big Sundae and decided to split it.

As she took the first bite, she let out a small “Oh!” Then, she yelled out, “This is the best food ever!” Several people laughed, and a few heavyset women let out cheers, but she was unfazed. She ate her entire half portion (which was much bigger than the term “half portion” usually connotes). We both neared the end at about the same time. We were already leaning forwards, our noses were almost touching. As she finished the last bite, I leaned in closer, planting a tiny kiss on her cold lips.

Her pale skin blushed that beautiful red flush again, but she didn’t look away at me. She just kept staring at me, starry eyed.

...

Despite the fact that she was still eating pretty small, low fat meals, and she was running every day, she was still gaining weight. Her metabolism had slowed down from her long period of self starvation, and it was intent on storing those calories. It wasn’t that bad of a deal for her...she told me her parents were glad she was starting to fill out, and boys were noticing her more. Her cheerleader friends often talked about how she looked so much better now that she had “blossomed” into a curvier figure.

Of course, she was still somewhat thin. Now, she just had rounder hips, bigger breasts, and less bony angles to her.

As homecoming neared, she actually told me that meeting me was the best thing that ever happened to her. Shortly after that, I got to meet her parents for the first time.

Both her mom and her dad were heavyset, but not to the point of being called “obese.” Her younger brother was in that same weight range as well. I tried to seem smart in front of them, but her parents were both MENSA members, so I’m sure I didn’t make that good of an impression.

The next day at school, a few kids from the student newspaper approached Lacy and I. They wanted to know if they could do a story about us, and her struggle to beat anorexia (apparently she had written a paper in English about it). Now, we weren’t just going to be the two most popular people on campus. We were also going to be moral heroes.

Our period of happiness was brought to a peak when we were crowned homecoming king and queen. Everyone seemed almost to worship us as we waltzed through the dance floor. How fickle they are.

I knew that the perfect state of things was in danger of falling out of balance near the end of the first semester. She was in her bra and underwear, but I didn’t think she was doing it for any sexual motivator – we were both content with making out, at least for now.

I saw it. A small roll of fat, hanging onto her underwear band. My first response was not disgust or even concern. In fact, I clearly remember that I had no specific response at all. It was just there, and that was that.

After a few seconds, I snapped out of it and realized what danger this presented. We had received too much attention, been placed into far too bright a spotlight. If she gained too much weight (and this was the first pound of too much in everyone’s eye) it would be catastrophic.

“You noticed, huh?” I had stared at her stomach far too long for subtlety. “I feel bad about it. But, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong; I’m exercising and everything...”

“You look fine! Really, you do.” Strangely enough, it wasn’t a desperate lie to help her feel better. It was the truth. I didn’t feel that she was any less attractive than before.

“Oh, come on. Its flab, it’s gross. You’re just being sweet.” I shook my head, certain of my own thoughts but uncertain at how to convince her at their authenticity.

“No, I mean really, I don’t care. You look just as pretty to me.” It was as if I had spoken the exact opposite. Her face contorted into an expression of grim melancholy.

“Lacy, don’t feel bad about that. There is no reason to feel bad. You eat healthy, you exercise...this is how it’s supposed to be. Not everyone’s metabolism is super fast, not everyone needs to be super thin to be healthy.” As usual, she seemed unimpressed by my reading.

“What if I gain more? What will everyone say?” Her voice was high and cracked as she spoke.

“I don’t care and neither should you. It’s just us, ok? That’s all that is important now.” To further emphasize, I walked up to her, kissing her cheek and moving my hand to her stomach. At first, she shirked back, probably due to surprise and disgust at herself. Then, my lips brushed her lips, and she froze. I put my hand on her tummy again, and she shivered.

“That feels...really nice...” She said it with reluctance, almost as if she felt guilty about her body even existing, let alone, her enjoying it. I reminded myself that I was dealing with a shy former anorexic and tried to muster the patience to continue trying to help. I had made progress, small but...I would stop for now.

“Don’t worry. Just go with what you feel.”

...

By the end of the winter break, she had gained more weight, despite exercise. I tried to convince her that you can indeed be healthy and fat, the only reason people say fat people are unhealthy is that some of them don’t eat right and don’t exercise, skewing the statistics. She didn’t buy it.

They were going to notice. She had gone past “voluptuous” and was into “getting’ chubby.” The first day of school, she wore a bulky jacket, but the next day was gym class.

She ran up to me crying at the parking lot after the day was over.

“They poked me! I can’t believe it...they poked me and insulted me...and...” I hugged her soft body and whispered.

“Shh...don’t let them get to you. Don’t let them hurt you. Don’t let it mean anything...” She bawled into my shoulder, and I knew that everything was going to unravel.

Fortunately, she didn’t return to anorexia as I had anticipated. She actually did some comfort eating, although to a very small degree compared to what I’ve heard other girls talk about. After she read some of the nutritional research I was going over, I finally convinced her that as long as she ate a good diet and she stayed active, she was indeed healthy despite the media’s idea that her weight guaranteed she was not.

One day, I was walking with her to class, and someone cracked off some obscene joke. My blood caught fire, and I felt the need to condemn him, right then, right there.

I didn’t know why I felt so protective of her. I didn’t know why she made me try to change things. I just knew that I wasn’t going to let anything slide now.

I got up on a bench and looked down at the joker. At first, he met my gaze with a juvenile look and a silly grin, but as he saw I was seriously offended, his expression changed to fear. I was the top dog on campus, after all.

“Tell me WHY you think it’s so bad that she’s gaining weight.” He stared up at me, dumbfounded. A small group of kids huddled in the corner, eagerly watching the interaction.

“WHY, damn you! Tell me why it’s bad. You insult her, you tell me why.” Lacy wasn’t tugging at my shirt to tell me to stop, nor was she crying in a corner or cowering. She was standing near me, totally unfazed.

“Hey, um...you wanna date a fat chick?” The scrawny little prankster had the nerve to laugh. The nervous chuckle was contagious, quickly spreading to the spectators.

“I don’t care what she looks like. That isn’t what’s important.” The frosh twerp looked at me as if I had just spoke Martian. “Look at all of you!” I shouted. “Give me one good reason to buy into all that bullshit they are feeding us. Get thin, look good, whatever. Tell me why I should value it. You guys break all the rules at school whenever. Why are these sacrosanct, er...important?” I corrected myself, knowing my audience was morons. I don’t think it helped, though. They stared ahead at me, dumbfounded.

Lacy started to cry, and my entire world seemed to cave in on itself.

“Come on, Lacy, we’re going.”

...

Lacy and I talked for a while after school that day. She again told me that I was the best thing that ever happened to her, and that she didn’t want to cause me any pain or anything by being ugly for me or making me feel like I have to stand up for her. And she told me she love me.

I hugged her close. “Lacy, I love you too. Lacy, I want to stand up for you, and I don’t think you are ugly.” She sniffed.

“You don’t?” As I held my soft girlfriend in my arms, my heart melted.

“No, I think you are more beautiful than ever.” I knew it was true. Every day I knew her, I grew closer to her. And every day I grew closer to her, I fell more in love with her. Her body was not important to me. It was her inside that was beautiful.

One month later, we no longer felt bad when she was picked on. She was happy and I was happy and we were not alone. I could still play football, and she could still read, and we could both still love each other. No recognition or acceptance of our happiness was needed.

Later that night, Lacy and I cuddled near the fireplace, one of our favorite activities. My parents weren’t home, so we could strip to our underwear to feel the heat. It was a great feeling. As we kissed and held each other, I felt my body yearn.

Lacy and I had avoided sex because I didn’t want to hurt her. I always saw her as so innocent and so delicate. But earlier she had told me she wanted us to; as she put it, fully enjoy what we had.

Her newfound confidence for her body and her disregard for peer disapproval had led her to eat normal portions every meal, and she didn’t have much of a chance to exercise due to the cold weather. She’d get back into that when the summer started of course, so she could be heavy and healthy.

Even then though, I doubted she’d change much from how I saw her now. She had gained another significant amount of weight, looking more like her genetics wanted her too, I suppose. I found myself not even minding it.

No.

As my hand rubbed her large, rounded potbelly, I knew that I actually felt more attracted to her softness, her fullness, her heaviness. We were so into cuddling and hugging, and it really felt so much more wonderful with her like this.

Her face gazed up at me, her chubby cheeks making her face almost heart shaped. I leaned into her and we kissed, our bodies pressing up against each other. As we broke the kiss, both of us were flushed and breathing hard. We knew we were going to make love.

We removed our last remaining garments and pressed our foreheads together. Her hands slid up and down my chest, bushing my rising nipples and causing a pleasant shiver to travel down my spine.

I pulled her up into a spoon position, which was a bit harder than I anticipated, but doable. I cupped her large breasts and massaged her shoulders. I kissed her on the neck, (to which Lacy rewarded me with a tiny squeal) and then I kissed her on the lips as my hand traveled down, touching the inner part of her thick thighs.

I stopped the kiss right before I touched her womanhood. She let out a little gasp and bit her lip as my fingers gently touched her. Lacy was a virgin, so I knew that it was best for her to get used to the sensations so she didn’t tense her muscles and cause herself pain.

For a few moments, I could see her body tensing, her muscles clenching from the exciting, yet unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation. After a few minutes, though, she seemed to allow herself to relax.

I put on protection, and kissed her forehead. “Are you ready?” She nodded. As I put myself on top of her, I felt her tummy press up against me. It was wonderful to feel her soft voluptuousness like this.

I entered her with many pauses and “Are you oks?” She told me that I was a sweetheart for going though this much just so she wouldn’t be hurt. Her friends had experienced very painful first times.

We slowly found a rhythm, and I felt completely connected with her. In previous sexual experiences, I had focused so hard on not having an orgasm too quickly that I wasn’t that into the experience. But now, all I could think of was Lacy. I saw her face staring up at me, I felt her body under me, and I felt our love.

The wonderful sensations were reaching their peaks. We were both softly gasping and as I reached orgasm, I leaned down and passionately kissed her. A few moments later, she arched her back, pressing herself against me. She opened her mouth to say something, but no sound but those of her loud breathing came out.

I stroked her cheek, and before long we were cuddling together again, almost asleep, and crying with happiness. I never felt more complete in my whole life.

By the time we graduated, we were both actively telling people how it was wrong to judge people based on their outsides. Some magazines with progressive goals were already calling me a revolutionary. I had the power to date only perfect 10’s in the Cosmo world, but I chose to date a girl like Lacy. “I suppose absolute popularity doesn’t corrupt absolutely,” was what one person said about me.

When I won the state championship for my football team, they called me a champ. When I fought for what I believed in, my girlfriend and I were treated badly. But I knew that standing up for her and standing up for people who weren’t treated right was what counted.

I guess it turns out being in High School really is about being a champ. Being a champion for something you believe in, surrounded by the most intolerant environment shows just how strong your dedication is. It is these people who really make a difference for those who matter.