Page 34 of On the Plus Side
“Why?”
“It was too hard. I lost my drive to do fat activism, and they didn’t understand why. So I let those friendships disappear with that part of me.” Everly slid her hands nervously down the sides of her leggings. It was so hard to be honest about this stuff, to face the ways in which she let her life get smaller. The ways she’d actively shrunk it with her choices. “Now I only find that kind of connection on the forums for this show.”
“But you don’t really participate?”
“Just a lurker.”
Stanton’s expression was sad enough to summon an ache at Everly’s center. He knew as acutely as she did what she’d lost.
They wandered down a path to their right. It was narrower and not nearly as crowded with booths, ending a few yards away at a large wooden building. The sign hanging from heavy chains off the overhang readEDMUND’S WARDROBEin sweeping calligraphy, and the shop’s barn doors were already thrown open, the light from LED lanterns making the inside glow a soft white.
Stanton stopped before they approached the building, and turned to face her. “I got my first idea for a fat superhero at a faire. Most people come in period costumes, but you get your sprinkling of superheroes andsteampunk, sci-fi, or fantasy outfits. I’d driven hours to reach this faire in Maryland and I was sitting on a bench, crowd watching, taking it all in, and this guy walked by me in a vintage Cyclops costume fromX-Men. The blue spandex with the yellow belts and whatnot.” Everly’s expression must have betrayed her lack of classic superhero knowledge because he made atutsound with his tongue before moving on. “Anyway… he was on the shorter side and had a round belly, but he owned that costume like hewasthe character. It made me think, whycouldn’tCyclops look like that? How was shooting lasers out of his eyes in any way affected by what his body looked like?” Stanton huffed a breath. Behind his glasses, his dark brown eyes were far away, as if he were somehow back at that particular faire. “It changed the whole trajectory of my life. I hope this place might do that for you, too.”
There was a tug at Everly’s chest, a wistfulness that felt heavier than a boulder. Until Jazzy and Stanton had burst into her life, she hadn’t realized how badly she wanted to change. How much she needed something to nudge her off course. To point her in a direction she hadn’t thought possible.
“Me too,” she whispered.
Stanton’s eyes were glassy, and Everly could feel tears gathering in her lashes. They both laughed as they wiped at their faces, and a companionable quiet settled between them. Eventually, Everly broke it by muttering, “Logan’s going to be pissed he missed this moment.”
With a chuckle, Stanton waved her toward the building. “We’ll give him an appropriately themed heart-to-heart once we’re dressed.”
She glanced down at her leggings and loose tank. The pants were, of course, black, but the shirt had some white stripes. “I… am dressed.”
“Oh, not for King Henry’s, you’re not.” Flourishing a hand, Stanton herded her into the building.
Racks of garments filled the floor, and others hung from the wallsand the low beams on the ceiling. Most were corsets, shifts, and floor-length dresses, along with belts and coats. A few racks had shirts and pants for more masculine styles.
On a stack of barrels at the back sat an old ornate brass register, and beside it idled a tall, wide-hipped brunette in a cream-colored corseted overdress covered with brocade roses. Underneath the dress was a velvet shift the color of mulberry wine. As Everly and Stanton approached, she paused her conversation with a thin blond man in a pirate’s costume that was clearly inspired by Captain Stede fromOur Flag Means Deathto glance their way.
Stanton rushed over and hooked an arm around each one’s shoulder. “Everly, this is Meryl and Broden. They’ll be our historical style consultants today.”
Oh. God.Everly’s heart nosedived into her stomach. They were going to put her in a costume.
She’d never been a huge fan of Halloween or other costume-oriented events. Partially because it wasn’t quite as fun to play dress-up when nothing was available in your size, but she also wasn’t interested in giving the world what it wanted and pretending to be someone else.Somethingelse—skinnier, prettier, quieter, invisible. She wanted to be able to exist exactly as she was and how she looked in the moment. That’s why she was on this show.
Choosing a dress at random, Everly spread out the skirt and inspected its intricate detail. “I’m going to look ridiculous in one of these.”
The woman named Meryl shook her head adamantly. “Renaissance fashion flatters every body type, but especially curves. You’re going to look gorgeous.”
“I’m going to be a puddle of sweat under all these layers.”
“Join the club,” Broden said with a smile. “It’s part of the whole Ren faire experience.”
“Plus, it adds authenticity since people back then didn’t bathe nearly as often as we do.” Stanton had come to admire the gown with her, and he nudged her arm playfully with his elbow. “But seriously, this is part of the process. Embrace it. We need to shake you out of your comfort zone.”
“There’s nothing like a corset and eighteen layers to loosen you up.”
“Exactly! By the time Jazzy dresses you, you’ll be up for anything.”
Everly eyed him warily. “That’s some twisty logic.”
Throwing his arm around her neck, he gave her a squeeze. “Just trust me.”
“And me!” a voice yelled from the rear of the building.
With typicalOn the Plus Sideflair, Jazzy burst from the dressing room, the curtain flapping wildly in her wake. Logan and Sady ducked out from behind the next one. His camera was already braced on his shoulder. He’d probably been filming since the second they’d walked in.
Maybe earlier if he was sneaky—though something told Everly that wasn’t his style. Plaid did not make for good camouflage.
