I never thought this was what I'd be doing with my life. But there aren't any opportunities for a woman with a Bachelor's degree in Anthropology here. This town is too small to have anything sophisticated like that.
I rest my head back against my car seat and sigh. With the unemployment rate being sky high everywhere, I'm lucky to even have a job. I try to remind myself of that, but today it feels hollow.
A couple exits the diner's front door, laughing about something as they head to their car. They were like that inside too, huddled together, whispering about whoever walked past. Because that's what everyone does in this town.
With nothing else going on, they cling to whatever juicy bit of gossip will allow them to escape their miserable lives for a moment. It doesn't matter if you're hurting or if you've made a mistake. Your every move is scrutinized, every decision judged. And no one cares about how painful that is.
I've lived here my whole life, and I've hated every second of it because I've always been the talk of the town.
It started innocently enough, side eyes and whispers about my clothes wondering why I was, "always in those baggy outfits," or if my family just doesn't, "have enough money to buy me something that fits?"
When my mother would hear them, she'd take my hand and all but drag me to another aisle, business, sidewalk, anything to get away.
I didn't understand why.
She always made sure there were no stains on my clothes, that I looked neat and clean. And no one ever spoke about Aubrey that way. No, my sister was perfect—sweet, kind, adorable—what every parent wished their child would be.
But in middle school I finally understood what made me so different. I was a fat, red-head and that made me a target.
"She's just so big."
"Doesn't she know how to control herself?"
"Her family must be so ashamed."
It was as if I, who was simply existing in my own body, was a walking advertisement begging to be ridiculed. And when I began dating James in high school it only grew more cruel, more destructive.
"She's so lucky James is with her. I mean, look at her. She's not exactly a supermodel, is she?"
To them, he was the golden boy with a bright future. The star quarterback everyone loved and cherished. While I was nothing but a fat slob—a burden. Someone who was taking up too much space in a world that preferred me to be small and silent.
I learned to navigate the world with my head down, trying to make myself as insignificant as possible. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the constant reminder that I didn't fit.
And even after six years, I was still surrounded by them. Having to run the register today and be in the dining area where I could hear everything… It was a curse I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
I close my eyes, but that only makes it worse. Their voices flood back—crystal clear—as if I'm still standing behind that register.
"She must be great in bed," a man snickered.
"He must be blind to be with her," his partner said.
"He could have had anyone," Beth said, shaking her head. "Why her?"
We weren't in high school anymore. James was no longer the town's pride and joy. He'd injured his Achilles, had to stop playing, and worked at the local car wash. And Beth was a bitch that no one in town could stand—oh how the head cheerleader had fallen.
I wanted to say that. To fight back. Tell them to shut up. Kick them out. Anything. But I couldn't.
This was my place of work, and it wasn't like we could afford our apartment on James's salary alone. And the few spare dollars we had went into savings for our wedding. But that didn't stop me from imagining it.
If I could, I’d climb on top of the dated pink counter and rain hell down upon every single person in that diner. Because I knew their secrets too, and the picture of their faces shifting into absolute horror as I spilled them all, made a small grin slip onto my face.
One day soon, hopefully.
James promised once we'd married, we could look into moving—maybe even finally go to New York like I'd always wanted. But even though I believe him, I don’t know how much longer I can take.
My exhaustion isn’t just bone deep, it’s in my heart, mind, and soul.
But what can I do?
