Here the Whole Time(7)

“I’ll go!” Caio and I say at the same time.

“Great, you can go together!” my mom says with a smile, handing me the money and the grocery list.



The supermarket is two blocks from our building. It’s a quick walk that I’m used to doing almost every day. But walking there with Caio by my side is a completely different experience. When I’m with him, people glance our way, and I don’t know if they’re reacting to how gorgeous he is or how fat I am. Or both.

I wonder what it would be like to walk down the street holding hands with someone. Just walking side by side, my fingers interlaced with Caio’s while we bump into each other a little because I can’t walk in a straight line to save my life. I think about how amazing it would be to walk into the store with his hand in mine, smiling at each other, as if we were Justin and Britney arriving at the American Music Awards in 2001, wearing denim from head to toe. The whole store looking at us and thinking we’re the best couple of all time.

But that’s never going to happen. Especially if we take into account the fact that we live in a town where no one would approve of two boys walking hand in hand in the grocery store. And the fact that Caio won’t even talk to me.

“I think we should split the list,” I say suddenly, without any context, because I have the social skills of a cheese grater.

“Huh?” Caio looks confused.

“The list. The items. We could divide and conquer, each one gets half the list. We’ll meet at the checkout line and waste half the time!” I explain, my words all crashing into one another.

“Fine by me,” Caio says with a crooked grin. His smile is a little awkward, but his teeth are perfect. He could star in one of those commercials with ripped models sitting by the pool, casually holding tubes of toothpaste.

I tear the shopping list in half, hand him a piece, and attempt to smile back. I say attempt only because most of the time when I smile, it looks like I’m having a stroke. I lower my head before he notices.

We walk into the store and head in different directions. I check my half of the list, written in my mom’s hurried handwriting:

Eggs

Grapes (the purple seedless kind)

Milk (the cheapest brand)



Easy peasy. I go down the main aisle and grab a carton of milk. I can’t find the purple grapes anywhere, so I decide to get the eggs. In my head, I’m in a competition with Caio to see who can find their three items first. At the end, there will be a finish line, with production assistants handing me a giant check as confetti falls from the sky.

I hurry to the egg aisle and suddenly feel the urge to turn around and run back home, because Jorge and Bruno are here. But they see me before I have a chance to escape.

A quick rundown on Jorge and Bruno: They go to the same school as me, and they’re responsible for 80 percent of the nicknames that I’ve amassed over the last two years. Jorge was held back a couple of times, is almost nineteen years old, and has a full beard that would be cute if he wasn’t such a jerk. Bruno is half my height; his hair is shaved on the sides, forming an undercut that didn’t turn out quite right; and he could never be cute even if he were on an episode of Queer Eye.

They both start walking my way, and I pretend to concentrate on which eggs to buy. White or brown? Decisions, decisions …

“Well, if it isn’t Butterball!” Bruno shouts, his high-pitched voice echoing across the aisle.

“Attention, shoppers: You’d better buy your food before the whale eats it all!” Jorge cups his hands around his mouth, as if he were announcing today’s deals.

I try to pretend like nothing is happening, but that becomes much harder to do when Bruno starts poking me in the back, moving from one side to the other.

The two of them always split their work efficiently when it comes to tormenting me. Jorge prefers verbal offenses, while Bruno is the type who likes to get more handsy. I don’t know which one I hate more.

“No use trying to hide,” Jorge continues when he realizes I’m trying to remove myself from the situation. “You’re so fat that not even the moon could cover all of you.”

I roll my eyes, frustrated. As if this were the first time I’ve heard that one.

“You’re so fat that … that …” Bruno starts to say, apparently not having thought of a punch line to his own joke.

Not knowing how to finish his sentence, he takes the easy route and, shoving me against the shelves behind me, catches me by surprise and twists my nipple—hard.

“Tittieeeees!” he says, almost in a whisper, in a sadistic tone of someone who’s never had this much fun.

I try to defend myself by covering my chest, but I end up dropping the grocery basket I am holding, and when I bend down to pick it up, I’m almost certain I can hear Bruno calling me a fat ass. I’ll never understand how someone half my size can manage to make me feel so small.

The two of them seem satisfied by the fun they’ve had at my expense and walk down the aisle as if nothing happened. I grab a carton of eggs at random, put it in the basket, and run out of there.

When Caio arrives with his three items, I’m desperate to get home.

“Can we leave now, please?!” I say, trying hard to sound calm and polite.

I pick the line that seems shortest and count each second that goes by. I’m so mad I feel like I’m about to explode. We get to the register, I pay for the groceries, and I walk out of the supermarket trying to forget what just happened.