Author’s Note: I am Otis.

Once there was a person whom everyone knew. Everyone knew him because he was called Fatso. He was called Fatso because he was fat. He was obese. Fatter than the fattest hen they had seen. Fatter than the fattest teacher, fatter than the fattest goose. He was a good boy. Never lied to anyone, never spoke badly of anyone. He was always smiling. Like a cupcake makes you smile — he would make us smile, even make us laugh, sometimes. He was an adorable chap. 

We liked him, but we still called him Fatso. We called him Fatso because we were afraid of each other. I was afraid of others that if I don't call him Fatso, everyone would shun me. I didn't want to be shunned. When you are forced to sit away from others, you feel alone. Like Fatso.

Fatso was sitting by himself that day. Like any other. It was the lunch hour. And he was doodling something on his white sheets. He would never show us what he drew. Out of nowhere, I went and sat by him. I didn't know why I did that. Perhaps there was no one else in the class. And I wanted company. He was alone, passing his time... quietly... staring into a triangular-shaped mathematical object. I went near him and asked, "Otis, don't you feel bad when people say you are fat?" I was surprised. With myself and my actions. I had never called him by his actual name before. In fact, I might have used the wrong name. A panic cruised through me like a current. Was Otis really his name?

But I calmed down. I knew he won't tell others I had called him with an incorrect name. I also knew that he won’t tell them I had called him by the right name. Either.

He said nothing for a while. His fingers continued to play with the mathematical object on the paper. Then he looked at me. His eyes were brown, as usual. He let me stare at them for a while. Then he said: "No, I don't. Because I am fat." He said these words and went back to his doodling. 

I stood up. I made sure that no one had seen me sitting with him. I didn't decide that I would sit with him every day. To make a point. I never called him Fatso anymore, though.