Against All Odds

Today's the day. Don't punk out. It took a lot to get me to this point but I have to do it today. Don't punk out. No chickening out. I can't chicken out. I have to do this. Don't punk out.

Yeah, I have to go and make a fool in front of the most perfect person in the world and what do I have to offer?


I'm chubby. Yeah, chubby. Two-thirds of this country is overweight and among them, in all that chunkiness, I can't hide it. No sucking in my belly to look good. Not quite thin enough for that to work. It sucks. I love food. I can't help it. Milkshakes bring this kid to the yard. I wheeze a little when I get there though. I try working out once in a while. It hasn't really worked out for me. It's a lot easier to find a Coke and a sandwich than it is to find an interest in running or eating celery.

I'm nerdy. It's not enough that I love, love, love comics but somehow I'm also the most socially awkward kid in the ninth grade. You ever think to yourself and your like, having a conversation with yourself and then all of a sudden what you were thinking becomes an audible word that makes no sense. "Guggenheim." No reason for it. Just blurted it out in math class once. Everybody laughed. Everyday it happens with different words. Also, I dig video games. That's pretty typical for a kid my age but I get a little obsessive with it. There are a few people that threaten my life online each night after I hand them a nice butt whipping. I killed more zombie's and monsters than Dahmer, Gacy, and Voldemort killed people. And wizards.

You would think a kid this nerdy would be like ridiculously super smart too, right? Nopers. I'm not a dumb-ass but it's been a long time since I've seen an 'A' on my report card. I'm not really that great at paying attention. I get lost in my train of thought sometimes and when, well, when I'm doing anything mostly.

Okay, all those qualities make me a big winner, right? Yeah...thought so. Frowny face. I like to think I'm pretty funny though. Grandpa thought I was. He and I used to trade jokes all the time. He died three weeks ago. He had cancer. A few days before he died, he and I were talking in his hospital room.

"You gotta be who you are kiddo. Do what you wanna do. Love who you wanna love. Don't let anybody tell you who you are." He told me, "I loved you're grandmother more than anything in the world."

"In the early days, they told her I was all wrong for her. I was poor, mean, and had a family with a bad reputation. She took a chance with me. For that, I made good on my promises to her. I never strayed. I worked hard to give her what she left behind to be with me. I loved her more than any man ever loved a woman. She saw me and knew what I really was. I wasn't a bad man, I'd just been rough treated. She softened me up. She took a chance. I think when it comes to love you can't be afraid to take a chance. Play it smart but if you see somethin' special, take a chance and love whoever the hell you find worthy. No matter what anybody says."

I hugged him. He kissed my forehead and told me he loved me. His breathing weaker than I had ever known. Three days later, he died in surgery. That was the last day I'd seen him alive.

So, today, I take a chance. Today, I knock on the door of the most perfect person in all the world and I hope Chris sees something special in me. I knock and she answers the door. Golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. Blue eyes as beautiful as the clear waters surrounding a tropical island. Her skin wraps her body in silk. She's tall and thin. Everything a man could want. She gets straight A's. Her father is a doctor. Her mother is a lawyer. They are generous and kind to those around them.

I know this because she is kind and nice to me. In our English class, we talk a lot. She thinks I'm funny. She's never called me fat or stupid. She's even played video games with me. She looks at me in a way that makes me wonder sometimes if she's interested in me. Sometimes the things she says make me wonder too. That's why I'm here. Poor, chubby, all wrong for her but maybe I've got a chance.

"Hey, Sam." She says smiling.

In a daze, I pour my heart out. I tell her I think she's beautiful, great in every way, and that I want to be with her. I tell her I hope there's a chance that somehow she can find it in her heart to return my feelings. I hand her the flowers I bought for her. I wipe the sweat from my palms on my pants. I feel ready to pass out. My knees are weak. They want to buckle.

She seems shocked for a moment. She stammers. She laughs and then apologizes. She rejects me. "I don't feel that way about you." She says, "I don't feel that way about any girl."

I don't think that's true. I explain why I thought I had a shot. I explain about the way she would lay her head on my shoulder when we watched a movie. I remind her of the way she looks at me. I remind her of her "secret crushes" on different girls in our school. There were a lot of reasons I thought she might feel the same way.

I think the "secret crushes" struck a nerve. She looked surprised. She shoved me away from the door and slammed it in my face. "Christina!" I shouted. I heard her lock the door and run upstairs. I left.

I went to a quiet patch of woods behind my house. There was a tree I like to hang out in sometimes. I smoke there when I'm feeling especially like a reject. Today wound up being one of those days.

I don't know why I can't be like other girls my own age. I like some girly stuff. I like pink. I played with dolls growing up. I don't really like dresses. I don't like boys. I never really have. I tried to make it work before. I kissed a boy and hated it. I pushed through. He tried to get me to give him head. I almost threw up. Life's too short to suck a dick if you don't have to.

I just want to be me and be accepted that way. I'm not crazy. There's no pill I can take that will make me like boys. If I'm forced to be with a boy we'll both end up miserable. I have to be who I am. There's no way around it.

I hear some branches breaking and I see a girl about my age walking through the trees. She spots me hanging out in my tree. "Hey." She says.

"Hey." I say, "I'm Sam."

She smiles, "I'm Jackie."

Jackie just moved into the new neighborhood being built behind the woods. We smoke together and talk for hours. Her dad is an author. Her mom is a Veterinarian. She's funny, reads comics, makes mostly A's, and has mole on her neck she's very self conscious about. Turns out she digs girls too. In particular, this one.