Dyamonde was amazed at the silly things kids talked about at school. Take the next day. Dyamonde was in the girls’ room, taking care of her business, when she overheard three girls blabbing away over the loud sputter of the water faucet going full blast. It was the Three T’s, Tanya, Tylisha and Tameeka. Dyamonde would know their voices anywhere. Damaris was there too, but Dyamonde didn’t know it.
“Well, I may be the youngest in class,” said Tylisha, “but I also weigh the least.”
“So what?” said Tanya. “I’m the most popular.”
“You wish!” said Tylisha.
“Ugh!” said Tanya. “I’ve got to go on a diet. I don’t want to turn into a little piggy like Amberline.”
“She’s not that big,” said Tameeka.
“Are you kidding? Have you seen her pouchy belly?” asked Tylisha.
“Oh,” said Tameeka. “Yeah.”
“She must be stuffing her face when no one’s watching,” said Tanya.
“Like when she’s by herself,” said Tameeka.
“Which is all the time, since nobody wants to be her friend,” said Tylisha.
“I know!” said Tameeka. “It’s sad.”
“Well, it’s her own fault,” said Tylisha. “That’s what she gets for being so pushy.”
After that, Dyamonde heard the faucet switch off. The girls’ voices faded away as the three left, their sneakers squeaking against the tile floor.
Dyamonde straightened her clothes and went to wash her hands. That’s when she saw Damaris pinching her waist and frowning at her reflection in the mirror.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dyamonde.
Damaris dropped her arms to her sides when she realized Dyamonde was there staring at her.
“You scared me!” said Damaris.
“Sorry,” said Dyamonde. “But what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Damaris, switching on the faucet.
“Then how come your face is all scrunched up like you’re about ready to cry?”
Damaris bit her lip, scrubbing her hands as if they had never been washed.
“It’s no big deal,” she said.
Dyamonde wasn’t having it. She knew something was wrong. She crossed her arms and waited, staring Damaris down.
After a minute of this, Damaris felt her shoulders sag. She dried her hands and turned to face her friend.
“I think I’m getting fat,” said Damaris, almost in a whisper.
Dyamonde blinked. “What?”
“I think I’m getting fat.”
Dyamonde started to laugh, but Damaris gave her such a sharp look, Dyamonde stopped mid-giggle.
“I’m sorry,” said Dyamonde, “but who told you that?”
“Nobody. But you heard them call Amberline a piggy, right?”
Dyamonde nodded.
“Well, I’m practically the same size as Amberline, so I must look like a piggy too.”
“No, you don’t!” said Dyamonde. “They were just being mean. Amberline is not fat, and neither are you.”
Damaris did not look convinced.
Dyamonde put her hands on Damaris’s shoulders and spun her around to face the mirror again.
“Look at you,” said Dyamonde. “You are perfect just the way you are.”
Dyamonde gave Damaris a squeeze.
“Maybe not as perfect as me,” said Dyamonde, “but you’re at least halfway, and that’s pretty close!”
Damaris was surprised to see her lips curling into a little smile.
Dyamonde bumped hips with her. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
Damaris followed Dyamonde out into the hall. Dyamonde didn’t know it, but by the time the girls reached homeroom, Damaris’s smile had slipped away.
