"Letoya"
Letoya woke up dazed and confused. Her vision was blurry. She didn't know where she was, how she'd gotten there or who the arm was that was heavily draped around her pudgy waist. Slowly she pushed the arm off of her not wanting to disturb who ever it was She hesitantly climbed out of bed, the mattress singing as she raised. She firmly planted her feet on the ground but couldn't move any further because her head was spinning uncontrollably. A flashback of last nights tequila shots ran through her head. She swore off drinking for good-- well at least tequila. Her eyes felt heavier then bricks and her stomach did cartwheels. She willed her feet to move. She assumed the closed door led to the bathroom and didn't waste any time bursting through it. As soon as got the lid of the toilet seat up a mountain of liquid flooded the bowl. The only good thing that could come of this she thought was that she might have lost a pound or two.
Letoya tried to rise, her hands shaking and her stomach convulsing. She felt so bad. She stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. She splashed her face a couple of times hoping the cold water would wash away more than the morning crust in her eyes. Her eyes were closed as she reached for anything to dry her face with. When she looked up in the mirror she noticed that one of her eyelashes had gotten washed off and floated in the make-up stained water. She really looked at herself in the mirror as she pulled off the other lash. She was very pretty. She didn't need the fake eyelashes or the make-up because she was a natural beauty and everyone said so. She didn't even know why she wore make-up. Her dark complexion was smooth all over. Her eyes chinked at the corners. Her lips made a perfect oval shape. Her cheekbones sat high and defined. "You could be a model", she recalled someone saying to her just the other day. That wasn't the first time she'd heard that either, but it was always followed by, "well if you were smaller." She knew that it wasn't said to hurt her it was just the truth. At one point in her life she actually believed she could become a model. Her mom thought so too. Growing up she'd gone to just about every model agency in Jacksonville. Sessions, Barbizon, John Casa Blanca, just to name a few. When she was younger everything was fine. She actually got cast to do a few things. A commercial or two here, a fashion show there. She'd also appeared in a J C Penny's catalog. But as she got older things changed. Instead of growing taller she grew wider. But in all the right places. At first her mother figured that she was just developing earlier and that eventually it would all "even out". It never did. Not that Letoya had a bad figure. She still had an hour glass figure. There was just a little bit more sand in her glass. Many people asked her what race she was and were surprised when she simply answered "Black" as if being "Black" couldn't possible allow you to be beautiful. Do you have to mixed with another race to have beautiful and exotic features, she wondered.
She was grateful to the morning light. She quickly gathered her belongings which consisted of a hot pink spaghetti strap dress, panties, heels and purse. The body in the bed stirred but didn't wake up. Quickly glancing at the face laying in the bed her heart sank. She recognized the person immediately. She rushed out getting dressed walking down the steps as quietly as possible. She needed to get home fast to dress for church. It was third Sunday and she was suppose to lead the praise and worship service.
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