In Miniature

interior, Colleen Moore's dollhouse

He pushed a slice of pizza on a napkin toward her.

“Eat!” He smiled, encouragingly.

She shook her head no, silently, feeling herself shriveling up inside.

Hunger had been tearing at her insides before… she hadn’t eaten all day… but her appetite had left the moment he had only purchased the one all you could eat buffet instead of two. He had answered the cashier’s quizzical look by saying she was not hungry. At that point, it had not been a lie. Once they reached the table he explained he would share with her off of his own plate. 

Maybe he just didn’t have the money? 

She sure didn’t and she didn’t want to make him feel bad if that were the case.

They were just a couple of college students, after all. Poor college students without parental funding. Her meal plan, the only one she could afford on her scholarship, allowed for five meals a week at the cafeteria. She had used them up earlier. This, right now, was supposed to be her meal for the day. She had been counting on it, counting on him, but she would never tell him this. 

She was too embarrassed. 

The Freshman fifteen had not been a problem.

“Go on. Eat.” He gave her a sharp look of warning, demanding with his eyes that she comply. He was getting angry with her. 

He pushed the pizza closer. 

She was afraid to say anything, worried he would leave her. She had changed everything, defying her parents and convention, because she loved that he had noticed her. She loved him for seeing more in her than she saw in herself. No one had paid a lick of attention to her before. Now she was terrified that she would not be exciting enough, pretty enough, daring enough, or smart enough to hold his attention. 

That was why she had given him her virginity but doing so had only upped the stakes. If he left her now, what would she have left? Nothing. Nothing of value, anyway.

Just fear.

Her fear of being alone eventually overcame her fear of getting caught. Glancing around first to see if anyone was watching, she took a furtive bite, chewing the tasteless mass slowly. She swallowed carefully around the lump in her throat. 

In a matter of seconds the manager was there, glaring down at her. How had he seen?

“You need to leave.”

She looked back across the table for guidance but there was none. He just stared at her, shock playing on his face.

“Now,” the manager said, his voice rising. “What you did is stealing. I could have you arrested.”

She could not find her voice so she grabbed her purse instead, starting to scoot her way out of the booth. 

Other patrons turned to stare.

“Wait. What if I go ahead and pay for her?” He pulled out his wallet and took out some bills, handing them over.

Mollified, the manager took the money and left, shooting her one final dirty look over his shoulder. She could feel his and everyone else’s eyes on her, judging her to be something she was not. 

A thief.

Then again. She had been the one to eat without paying. Not him. 

“You may as well eat now, get our money’s worth,” he said, gesturing dismissively to the salad bar and the line of pizzas laid out on the warmers.

Her head swam.

He’d had the money.

She just hadn’t rated the price of a pizza buffet.

She watched his face as he ate, anger and shame rising up like acid in her chest, burning a hole through her rib cage. 

There were times he could make her feel so cherished, so loved. Then in a flash, in the blink of an eye, he could wipe it all away and make her feel tiny and worthless. It hurt so much more because of all of the opinions in the world, his was the one that mattered the most to her.

This was not her fairytale.

She stood up from the table.

“I want to go home.” 

He didn’t move. 

“I want to go home. Now,” she said, more firmly.

He looked up at her with new eyes.

No words were spoken in the car. He tried to lean in for a kiss as she exited at her dorm but she turned away, slamming the door as hard as she could, hoping it would send the message she was not brave enough to speak with words.

I do not ever want to speak to you again.

That was the first time she left him.


97 thoughts on “In Miniature

  1. I think next time he takes her to an all-you-can-eat buffet and pays only for himself, that she should ask him to order a nice hot cup of coffee for them to share – and then she can pour it in his lap as she finally tells him to never, ever call her again.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I have seen women do this so many times – smart,attractive, caring women. IT makes me cringe at the nature of my gender – I wish i could wave a magic wand and have her in the position of power and him waiting. Barring that all we can do is make it public. And your fiction does exactly that Victo in an articulate engaging well written piece. Thank you for your insightful peek inside. You must see a lot of this from clients who confide in you. Thank you on their behalf for shining a light on their challenges.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. So very good!! You had me drawn in not wanting it to end and inwardly longing for the girl to stand up for herself!! Cheering her on as she told him she wanted to leave and as she slammed the car door, but feeling the pain in the last heart grabbing sentence! Great job and my heart goes out to the women who find themselves in this type of situation, so sad!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Quite a talent to put a so-common situation together in a few words.
    I just hope this kind of situation or profile is diminishing.
    I see young women nowadays much more confident. (Not wiser, some keep on hooking with the wrong guy). I hope the trend of female confidence goes up. You guys got all the tools. πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s