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excerpt from Eating the Chesire Cat
reading by Kirstin Ashe
with Josh Everman, Anneliese van der Pol, Dawn Emry

As Stewart slid his tongue into Sarina's ear, she kept her hands on his chest and wondered if her mother was right. When he got older, would he have breasts like that boy who drank four milks and sat alone during lunch? Would Stewart's shoulders round and slump? Would he lose his posture? Would he fit between the chemistry table and that old schoolmarm's blackboard? Sarina moved her body closer to Stewart's. She boosted herself onto her crossed legs. She felt his bare feet cradle her butt. She loved that. She straddled him and wondered how long she would be able to get in this position. If he got as big as her mother predicted, Sarina would not be able to get her legs around him. She was not known for her splits. She did not want to be known as the girl who loved the fat guy.
Lard Ass.
Wide Load.
Mr. Ho-Ho-Ho.
Stupid Retard Taking Up the Whole God Dang Bus.
She could hear the other kids cutting him down.

Sarina refused to be taken down with him, she loved Stewart. She had envisioned car rides, spring breaks, surely the prom. They would go all the way when she felt the time was right. Yet that night she saw nothing but a sorry fat chance. It would be difficult to stand by him.
Embarrassing. A drag.
She heard her mother say: Dump the Porker.

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