Molly simply rolled her eyes. Her nerves weren’t the problem…
“Ah ah, Polly, you forgot my mother.” Mrs. Harrington corrected the golden woman, “And my grandmother, and Great-Grandmother too.”
There was a laugh shared between the two older women in the room as Molly exhaled curtly and attempted to avoid eye contact. Her mother was right; four generations of Harringtons had gone to Buttercombe Academy. Molly’s family had seen the school from typewriting to text messaging, and it seemed that her mother was dead-set on keeping the tradition strong by enrolling not just one daughter, but all three of her Harrington girls into her stupid alma mater.
That was the problem.
She wanted to stay home, in her old private school where she actually knew people. Heather and Tamera, Kaitlin and Erin... God, she was gonna be so alone. But no, her mother wouldn’t hear a word of it. She had tried, but all it gained her was a long lecture about appreciating the opportunity to go to this stupid school. After the shortest Summer of her life, Molly was being forced to relocate here. Like some sort of freak.
It was so unfair. There she was minding her own business when her mother just springs up all this Buttercombe business like she should have been expecting to go her entire life! Why should she have to go to this stupid school just because everyone else in her family had? Maybe if her mother got off of her fat ass and listened to Molly, she would know that this was the worst thing in the world to do to a teenager—this is how complexes get started!
As she sat, Verruca Harrington was quite the whopper of a woman. She weighed, by Molly’s estimate, at least four hundred pounds at only five feet and eight inches tall. Her mom wasn’t ugly woman at all, at least not if you asked Molly, who maintained her stance that she was just too fat for her own good. Her fat white gut hung like an apron when she stood straight up, forcing her to tuck in the lowermost portion of her stomach beneath the waistband of whatever she had painted on that morning. Her round cheeks were red and puffy with exhaustion on the elevator ride up to Ms. Polluck’s office, leaving her moon-pie face sweatier than she probably would have liked. She dabbed at her cheek with one chubby hand, making her sagging upperarms wobble with the sudden motion. Molly appreciated the good looks she got from Mom’s side of the family, but the great girth of her mother, as well as every other Harrington aunt and grandmother, caused even Molly to shiver and shake at night.
You see, Molly was quite the big girl herself. Not nearly as large as her mother, and somewhat smaller than the last time she had seen either of her two sisters, but still quite large. Easily the largest girl back in St. Agnes, where she was routinely the subject of ridicule from that bitch Stacy Marshall and her friends. And even though she stood a bit taller than her mother, and her weight was carried somewhat differently, the image of what could have easily been her in twenty years often weighed on her mind heavily.
But there were more pressing matters at hand, as Molly's attention drifted back towards the conversation in front of her...
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