You find a friend in need in the corridors...

Wandering down the hall and trying to decide which class you should attend next you hear a familiar voice cry out.

“Stop it Derek, leave me alone!”

Looking down the hall you see Tamara, your sister’s short pudgie friend struggling to close her locker while Derek holds it open to peer inside as two of his jock cronies laugh there asses off.

“What are you Tammy, some sort of lesbian? This is some sick shit!” Derek laughs pointing at something within the small girl’s locker. His two friends laugh at her torment and start chanting ‘Lesbian! Lesbian!’ at her.

Their chanting and laughter stops as they see you approaching and Derek’s face turns pale at the sight of you.

“Hey fuck off you freak!” he yells backing away from Tamara and her locker with a look of panic, “Don’t fucking come near me!”

Glancing inside Tamara’s locker you can see what they were laughing at; pictures of naked playboy centerfolds and female porn stars cover the walls and door of the locker. You look down at Tamara, her round young face is red with shame and she is crying. Then you turn your attention back to Derek.

“That’s a bit homophobic Derek.” You say mildly “Are you sure you’re not over compensating for your own gay sexual urges?”

“What?! Fuck you faggot, and the fat dyke!” He snarls still backing away.

“I think you are, so why don’t your two buddies here help you out?” you say innocently “You three should go behind the bleachers where all the stoners go to smoke and jerk each other off.”

Their eyes go wide in alarm as they all turn and march woodenly off in the direction of the bleachers. You smile knowing that there are usually a dozen or so stoners out there at any time who will witness this unusual sight then you turn back to Tamara who is still sobbing as she tries to close her locker again.

“You OK Tammy?” you ask her gently, she had always been a good friend to Jessica and you’re fairly sure she has a crush on you.

She just nods and wipes at her tears with the back of her hand.

“Are those pictures really yours?” you ask softly.

She nods again, unable to deny it.

“Will you tell me why you have those pictures up in your locker?” you can’t help but to be curious.

“I like them.” She mumbles, her face going a beetroot red.

“You like those girls? There’s nothing wrong with that…” you begin in a consolatory voice but she interrupts you hastily.

“No, I mean… I… I want to be like them.” She whispers as other students walk by on their way to class. “I’m short… and fat… they’re so pretty and guys like them and…”

Her voice trails off and she won’t meet your eye.

“I don’t have many friends and there’s this guy I like…” she says awkwardly, “If I was like one of those girls… I don’t know.”

You suddenly understand. You want to tell her that she’s perfect just the way she is but you know how false that would sound to her. You look down at one of your sister’s two best friends; she is short for her age and overweight but you can see under all of that to what a pretty girl she could be…

You’re not sure what the best way to help her is but you decide that you would like to reassure the poor girl in some way.