American Fighter
Chapter One
    “I still don’t see why you won’t let your hair down. The hairdresser did it so nice today and it frames your beautiful face,” Mary’s best friend and personal cheerleader, as the woman liked to designate herself as, Beatrice huffed as she crossed her pale arms over her slender chest. Her hair was down and in golden ringlets that framed her high-cheekbones.
    “I’m not wearing my hair down because I feel like it attracts to my fat cheeks, okay?” Mary tried not to stare at her figure too long in the mirror as she situated her shirt over her large frame. She was an average woman when it came to height, but two hundred pounds on her average frame was not flattering, at least, not to her. Many people in town said she looked gorgeous with her dark, flawless skin and big, round eyes. But Mary didn’t think any of those features could cover up the fact that she was overweight.
    Beatrice appeared behind her in the mirror and puts her slender hands on Mary’s shoulders. “America Wade,” she used Mary’s real name, “you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Don’t you worry about a thing tonight. No one is going to stare at you or ridicule you.”
    Mary wanted to believe her, but she just couldn’t. Yet she smiled anyway and patted Beatrice’s right hand once as if she were offering comfort to her friend rather than the other way around. “I know,” she put in her silver hoop earrings and turned away from the mirror. “Let’s go have some fun,” she exclaimed as she grabbed her purse from the table in her foyer and opened up her front door.
    “That’s the spirit,” Beatrice cried out as she grabbed her purse from the coat rack hook and hurried out the door. The two of them settled into a red sedan Beatrice had bought only a few months before.
    “I still don’t understand why you bought this thing. You’re in your thirties, Beatrice! It’s a little too fast for a lead foot like you anyhow.” The two of them laughed in tandem and Beatrice agreed between her chuckles.
    It was a warm, summer day and Mary had worn a short sleeved shirt that showed some of her cleavage. She was normally uncomfortable in an outfit such as the one she was currently wearing, but Beatrice had chastised her for trying to wear something high on the neckline when it was so hot out. It was going to hit at least ninety in the afternoon, and Mary didn’t want to be uncomfortable.
    Both women rolled down their windows and let the afternoon air waft over them. It was no use putting on the air conditioning since they were going to spend an evening at an outside rodeo rink. They were going to see a famous rodeo cowboy by the name of Matt Hendricks. Mary had seen a picture of him on the internet just that morning and she’d gotten a little flushed in the face when she thought about what he’d look like without a shirt on. She secretly hoped there’d be a reason to see his glistening, white chest and chiseled abs this evening.
    “So what about that new cowboy, the really famous one? You think he’s going to win tonight?” Beatrice didn’t know much about the rodeo, and neither did Mary. She wasn’t sure how it worked, and hoped she didn’t have to see a man gored by a steer or something of the like.
    “I hope so,” Mary answered without thinking.
    “So you were looking him up,” Beatrice called her out on her snooping around the internet of the sexy cowboy, and Mary rolled her eyes.
    “Sweetheart, I’m not dead, alright? I’m just a little fat,” Mary tried to make the end sound like a joke, but they both knew it wasn’t. Beatrice was quiet as she drove along and took a right at a stop sign. They passed by a group of construction workers with their shirts off despite it being against company policy.
    Beatrice, being a skinny, good looking woman she was, honked her horn and waved her hand jubilantly at the men. Her friend was very well versed in embarrassing her, and Mary felt her cheeks

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