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Fitting
I can’t fit into his jersey.
On game days when the other girls giggle around and wear their boyfriend’s uniform, they’ll tuck it in, roll it up, put it in a ponytail because it’s too big.
But I can’t fit into his.
Other girls
Wear beautiful dresses that hang teasingly above their knees.
But I wear a skirt and a tacky old blouse that hugs me in all the wrong places.
Trying on my prom dress
It fits a little snug in the hips
My mother sighs. First thing she says. “Yeah. You definitely have volleyball legs.”
(For those of you who don’t know, that means I have big thighs)
Thanks Mom. Right back ‘atcha.
I can’t wear heels either. I’m too tall.
But…I want to be beautiful too.
I try.
I wear make-up. I sport matching necklaces, earrings, and jangly bracelets. I braid my hair and curl it and straighten it and spray it into all the shapes it’s supposed to be.
But
I can’t fit into his jersey.
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