“Ooooh!” said Dyamonde later that day when she and her friends entered the lunchroom. “Check out the menu. They’ve got chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes. Yum!” Dyamonde licked her lips. Her taste buds began to sing before she’d even taken the first bite.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” said Free, digging in. “This is way better than that nasty meat loaf they had yesterday.” Those were the last words Free spoke until his plate was clean. He was too busy shoveling food into his mouth to talk.
“Dang, Free!” said Dyamonde. “You act like you’ve never seen food before in your life!” Free grunted and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth.
Hopeless, thought Dyamonde.
Just then, Tylisha passed by, took one look at the plate in front of Damaris and whispered in her ear, “If I had your hips, I’d skip the mashed potatoes.” Then she joined Tanya and Tameeka at another table.
Damaris winced.
“What?” asked Dyamonde. “What did she say?”
Damaris made herself shrug. “Nothing,” she said.
Dyamonde didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press.
Damaris glanced around the cafeteria and noticed Amberline sitting nearby, nibbling on a carrot. Damaris immediately sucked in her stomach and sat up a little straighter. Then she picked up a baby carrot with her fork and took a teensy bite.
“Summer break is almost here,” said Damaris.
“Three weeks!” said Dyamonde.
“You know what that means,” said Damaris.
“Picnics,” said Dyamonde.
“Trips to the zoo,” said Damaris.
“Italian ices!” said Dyamonde.
“The city swimming pool!” said Damaris.
“Cotton candy,” said Dyamonde.
Both girls put their forks down. “Coney Island!” they said in one voice.
Free burped loud enough to remind them that he was there.
“You did not just do that!” said Dyamonde.
“What?” asked Free, all innocent.
“Oh, puleeze!” said Dyamonde. She shook her head. That boy has no manners!
Dyamonde turned her attention back to her meal, stabbing her fork into one chicken nugget after another until they were all gone. She was scraping the last bit of potato off her plate when she noticed that Damaris’s plate was still full.
“Why aren’t you eating?” asked Dyamonde.
“What are you talking about?” asked Damaris. “Didn’t you just see me make those carrots disappear?”
“Yeah, but you hardly touched anything else,” said Dyamonde.
“Well,” said Damaris, “I guess I’m just not that hungry.”
“Okay,” said Dyamonde, not sure whether to believe her friend.
“Hey, if you’re not eating those nuggets, can I have ’em?” asked Free.
Damaris nodded, pushing her plate across the table. She finished off her carrots and then the three friends headed out to the school yard until the bell rang.
Dyamonde stole a few glances at Damaris, wondering if her friend had told the truth about not being hungry. Dyamonde got her answer back in the classroom when she heard her friend’s stomach growl.
For the next couple of days, Dyamonde studied Damaris at lunchtime to see how much she ate, and every day she watched Damaris move food around her plate without actually eating more than a bite or two. Dyamonde started to worry about her friend, especially when she noticed Damaris’s blue jeans starting to sag.
“I know what you’re doing,” Dyamonde whispered to her one afternoon. “You’re dieting, aren’t you?” It was more of an accusation than a question.
Damaris shrugged. “So what?”
“I knew it!” said Dyamonde. “But why?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” said Damaris. “You’re already like a toothpick, but I need to lose weight.”
“No,” said Dyamonde, “you don’t. I already told you that you are fine just the way you are.”
Damaris shook her head. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”
“No, I’m not,” said Dyamonde. “I mean, yeah, I’m your friend. But that’s not why I said it.”
“Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?” begged Damaris.
“Okay,” said Dyamonde. But it wasn’t. Dyamonde was worried about her friend. She’d seen pictures of girls who practically looked like skeletons from dieting too much. She didn’t want to see that happen to Damaris.
I wish I could make Damaris see herself like I do, thought Dyamonde. But how?