“Sheila, what’s keepin’ ya?” Sniper called out, knocking on your bedroom door softly. It was summer and the team was gearing up to go swimming—you were the last to appear. These types of things were a struggle for you, a thicker person with marks and extra mass—bathing suits made you uncomfortable. You swallowed thickly as you replied to Sniper, staring at yourself in the mirror as you called back through your door.