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| Story Sample: Big Girls Won't Cry |
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Big Girls Won’t Cry
Tall.
Dark.
Handsome.
Doable. Definitely doable, Subrina Rayelle mused, sizing up the gorgeous man across the crowded club who had just made eye contact with her for the third time tonight. She could feel his eyes on her even now as she left the dance floor and returned to her table where her best friend awaited her.
Six months fresh from a divorce, Subrina was out partying with her friend Leesha Verret, enjoying her newfound freedom once again. Tonight’s plan was as simple as their previous Friday night plans - continue to enjoy the single life to the max.
No more being tied to a man who thought she would forever take whatever he dished out just because she was fat. No more being constantly reminded about how big she was compared to other women. Slender women. Interestingly enough, Tyrone had never compared Subrina to larger women, only the smaller ones in order to keep her self-esteem in pieces.
Just shy of two hundred pounds, Subrina had short sandy-brown hair, caramel-skin, honeycomb-colored eyes, full lips, and a figure like Toccara Jones. Big, black, and beautiful she was, and proud of it…
Now.
Subrina hadn’t always liked her size. Even before Tyrone she’d despised her weight. Ironically, few in society thought she should like it now. Some within her own family, particularly her much slimmer sisters. They’d been downright cruel at times about her weight issues, especially when they were kids. Even today they thought they were better than her based strictly on body mass alone, despite the fact that she was prettier than them and was more financially stable.
Sadly, Subrina had believed those lies of inferiority for years as they filtered in through media images, fat jokes, and from her own relatives. She had even told some of those lies to herself, unwittingly siding with the enemies of her self-esteem.
No man will ever find me attractive because of my weight.
I’ll never be able to keep a man because of my weight.
I will never be happy because of my weight.
I will die prematurely because of my weight.
It seemed that anything bad that could happen to Subrina always revolved around her weight issues. Nothing good was ever considered or associated with being a big girl. And so began all that ridiculous yo-yo dieting that only jeopardized her health and happiness even more.
Fortunately, Subrina happened upon a few self-help books a year ago. Suddenly the light bulb came on. Or rather an entire row of light bulbs, because she finally could see the whole truth about herself and her weight.
Suddenly Subrina saw that she needed to stop all the lies. She needed to stop lying to herself. She needed to stop letting other people lie to her, too, about her weight and overall self-worth.
Subrina learned that fat didn’t automatically equal less than, desperation, unhappiness, or loneliness. It didn’t even have to equal sickness and disease if a person ate right and exercised properly.
Ate right and exercised - that’s what Subrina did as the principles that she learned in those books began to take shape in her heart and mind, prompting her to change her life and body…for good. As the pounds gradually dropped off, so did all the reasons to stay with her no-good husband, who hadn’t been worth marrying in the first place. As a result, Tyrone was soon history.
Although Subrina would probably never get out of the double digits, she was happy with her size now. She was finally comfortable in her own skin.
It showed.
Subrina’s smooth skin was radiant with health, her eyes twinkled with happiness, and she sat straight and regal like a queen. Ironically, men started to treat her like a queen even before the pounds came off. It was all in her change of attitude. That’s what drew them.
Now Subrina allowed that charisma, which had always been inside of her, shine through in her personality. Now she gave skinny women a run for their money in the men department. She was about to take another fine man from the slender girls as Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome rejected a string of much slimmer women on his way to her and Leesha’s table.
“Hello, beautiful. May I buy you and your friend a drink?” the handsome stranger asked, giving Subrina a charming smile, barely even acknowledging Leesha with a nod. “By the way, my name is Ricky.”
“Hello, Ricky,” Subrina replied, now sizing him up at close range.
Was Ricky what people called a fat-chaser? You know, the kind of guy that pursued big girls because he considered them easy lays. Like skinny girls weren’t just as easy to get into bed!
Or was Ricky one of those guys that were looking for some woman to take care of him? Particularly an overweight woman who was financially stable, but yet so desperate to have a man that she was willing to foot the bill of their relationship. Or at least most of the bill.
Subrina did have a good paying job as a FBI linguist, complete with benefits. Her ex-husband Tyrone had loved living in the comforts she could afford with her government paycheck. In the whole five years they were married, he worked a total of three years when you added all the months together. Most of those jobs he’d quit while Subrina was traveling with her work.
Determined to find out what kind of man Ricky was in order to avoid a repeat of the Tyrone situation, Subrina immediately put him to the test. “As for buying us a drink, that depends on whether there are any strings attached. Meaning, after this drink purchase, will we then be obliged to dance with you, let you sit with us, or worse, owe you a roll in the hay?”
Shocked registered on Ricky’s face. A bit of disdain, too, although he quickly hid it. “None of the above. All I would like in exchange is your friend’s phone number,” he said, smoothly switching his interest from too confident Subrina to her less confident, but equally overweight friend.
Leesha’s eyes bucked. She thought for sure the handsome man had come over here for her more outgoing friend, who seemed to be a man-magnet these days. Plus, Ricky had addressed Subrina first and everything. Was this gorgeous hunk now interested in the shy friend?
Leesha hoped so. It had been months since a man taken a second look at her, despite the fact that she had a very pretty face and pleasant disposition.
Don’t fall for it, girl, Subrina’s eyes tried to communicate to her friend across the table.
It was too late.
Leesha’s mind was already gone, wrapped up in Ricky’s good looks and all that attention he started to heap upon her on that hot June night. Soon the smooth-talking man had Leesha up on the dance floor and away from Subrina.
* * *
Ricky would continue to keep Leesha away from Subrina for the next six months. Their phone calls were kept short and gradually became none existent. And there was no more going out clubbing together or even shopping. Leesha only went places with Ricky now.
In December, Ricky proposed to Leesha and then moved her from California to Nevada. It was then that she severed all ties with her family, as well.
Subrina didn’t hear from Leesha again until she called her for help one late May night. It seems Ricky had beaten her severely. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. He’d actually done much worse than that.
Ricky had charmed Leesha away from her family and friends and forced her into prostitution at a Nevada ranch that catered to men with a fetish for plus-sized women.
“Ricky never married me, Subrina. And he certainly never loved me,” Leesha shared in an anguished tone. “I was just one of many big women that he recruited into prostitution.”
Subrina bit back an expletive even as her fists balled into knots at her sides.
Fortunately, Leesha had escaped twice from the ranch, refusing to totally embrace that life as her present or her future. The last time she’d been beaten mercilessly. Yet at the first opportunity, she had escaped for a third time. Now she was hiding out in a cheap hotel somewhere in Vegas.
“Please go to the nearest hospital and check yourself in, Leesha,” Subrina pleaded. The raspy sound of her friend’s voice indicated great physical distress. “It sounds like you might have some broken ribs.”
“Among other things,” Leesha wheezed out, coughing at various intervals. “I can’t go to a hospital, Subrina. They’ll be watching those for sure, along with my parents’ house. Maybe even your house. The only reason I’m at this hotel is because the car I stole ran out of gas and I didn’t have enough money to make it all the way back to California. I also needed some time to…rest.” She coughed again, this time sounding like she was coughing up a lung.
Deeply disturbed by that cough, Subrina leaped out of bed and headed for her closet to get dressed. “I’m coming to get you and take you somewhere safe,” she said, suddenly reminded of her FBI connections. She knew of all kinds of safe houses in the area.
Subrina also knew of a few agents that owed her favors. Surely one of them could help her with this situation. Maybe even go pick Leesha up now and take her somewhere safe in a shorter period of time.
“What’s the name of the hotel?” Subrina asked, ready to put her excellent memory to good use.
Leesha promptly gave her the information she required. “Hurry, Subrina. Please hurry,” she whispered.
Sadly, by the time help got to Leesha, she was already dead. She died from internal bleeding due to all the injuries she’d suffered at the ranch.
Refusing to shed a tear until she’d brought those responsible for Leesha’s death to justice, Subrina enrolled as an active field agent and called in a few more favors to become an integrate part of Operation Buxom Beauties, a sting operation geared to bring down the prostitution ring that had held Leesha hostage in Nevada.
Subrina would be an interpreter on that Nevada ranch, which pretended to be a luxury resort for overweight women and their guests while acting as a front for something way more sinister. Something that continually violated state and international laws.
I’m going to find you, Slick Ricky. And when I do, I’m going to make you and all your little minions pay for killing my friend, Subrina mused, keeping those thoughts to herself as a specialist fitted her for new dark brown contact lens.
Combine that new eye color with the nose job she’d gotten two months back and the long shoulder-length tracts in her hair and one could see that Subrina looked like a completely different person from the neck up. Instead of looking like Jill Scott, she now looked like Kendra C. Johnson.
All of these cosmetic alterations were not about improving her looks, but about disguising herself for this upcoming assignment. An assignment that Subrina was looking forward to with relish. The same assignment that would ultimately lead her to her soul-mate, Caesar Posada, who just so happened to be the resort owner’s favorite nephew.
The End of Sample
* * *
If you liked this sample of Big Girls Won’t Cry, stay tuned for the full-length tale in mid-2009 (tentative date).
* * *
Note To Readers
Recommended reading for those struggling with weight issues (read them and be free):
• You Are Not What You Weigh (by Lisa Bevere).
• What Do You See When You Look in the Mirror? (by Thomas F. Cash).
• When Women Stop Hating Their Bodies (by Jane R. Hirschmann & Carol H. Munter).
• Body Wars: Making Peace with Women's Bodies (by Margo Maine).
• Battling Our Bodies: Understanding and Overcoming Negative Body Images (by Nicole Hawkins).
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