Page 69 of Spin The Bottle
But this right here? What my mom just said to me? It hurts a million times worse. What’s left over of my heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach as everyone at the table stops eating, stops talking, and stares at me.
You could be so pretty.
“Mama,” my sister says, grabbing her attention.
“¿Qué?”
“We’re celebrating her birthday, lay off.”
My mom scoffs. “Her birthday isn’t for another twelve days.”
“Camila,” my dad says. “That’s our daughter. How can you tell her she’s not beautiful?”
My mom holds her finger up. “Yo no dije eso.”I didn’t say that.“I was just telling her she could be so much prettier if she lost weight.”
“Camila!”
“This is your fault,” she says to my dad. “You think I don’t know the secret snacks you give her when you think I’m not looking?” She glances at me. “How can you blame me for that?”
She lets out a heavy breath, gesturing to Laura. “Look at your sister, Leila. She has a boyfriend, a good job. That could be you.”
“I can still have that.”
She scoffs again. “The one boyfriend you had thought you were a joke. Despierta mija. You will never have that if you don’t make a change.”
I can’t sit here and listen to my mom berate me and tear apart the tiny little piece of confidence I’ve tried so hard to build up the past year I spent away from home. I stand up, the chair scraping against the ground as I do. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I head inside, closing the door just in time to hear my parents arguing.
I take the stairs, finding the old bathroom and lock the door, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. The tears fall freely as my brain replays every bad word I’ve heard about my body.
So much potential wasted.
If only she wasn’t big.
Do you really think I would ever want you? It was a joke.
You could be so pretty.
A knock at the door makes my head snap up, staring at the wooden door in front of me. “Leila?” my sister asks. “Can I come in?”
I shake my head, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “What do you want?” The bite in my tone is obvious.
She opens the door and peeks in. “I’m not here to make it worse,” she says, shutting the door behind her. “I promise.”
I sniff, wiping the wetness from my face. “I’m sorry.” My shoulders drop, feeling the tears brew up again. “I just…”
“I know.”
“How can she say that?” I ask my sister, a tear rolling down my cheek. “How can she sit there and talk about me like that?”
“I’m sorry,” my sister says, frowning. “None of us believe that, Leila.”
I laugh, tears streaming freely down my face. “Please. I know what everyone thinks when they look at me.”
“That you’re stunning? Yes, that’s what they think.”
“Laura.” I glare at my sister, knowing she’s trying to make me feel better but also knowing that it’s all a bunch of lies.
“Leila,” she mimics. “I know you’re not a nun at college.”
