Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Forty

Apollo

My first attemptat putting my keys in the ignition, I missed. They fell to the floor, clanging loudly against each other on the rubber mat. With a curse, I reached down and picked them up, jabbing them in place.

I twisted so hard I felt the metal turn as the engine whirred to life. I wished I had my grandpa’s old Ford pickup. The one with the engine that drowned out all other sounds—even your thoughts.

My car was too quiet. Quiet enough I could hear Josh’s breathing next to me. Feel his apprehension and even his concern.

Ignoring him, I reversed out of the spot and peeled out of the parking lot as fast as I could.

I wasn’t sure where I was going at first, but I kept taking turns until my car was pointed toward the ocean. I’d find the water eventually.

The farther we got from the school, the more my ROTC training kicked in. I leveled my breathing. Focused my gaze. Shoved out everything except for the thoughts that would be helpful to me in combat.

Because I was in combat. My mind warred with itself, trying to make sense of what had happened. The way my body had reacted to the mere sight of the real Nadira saying my name. Her voice was everything. Everything. But now it had to be nothing, because that was how she’d treated me. Like I didn’t matter at all. Like I was the kind of guy who wouldn’t see beyond her looks and into her heart.

I beat the steering wheel, letting the pain in my hand take over the pain in my chest.

Josh flinched.

I needed to get away from him. From myself.

We approached a small beach, and I parked the car haphazardly over the parking lot’s faded yellow lines. Leaving it on with Josh inside, I jumped out and started running. I pumped my arms and pushed my legs, letting the adrenaline in my body carry me. But no matter how far or fast I ran, I felt the pain. It was inside me. A part of me.

My feet slowed in the sand, and I stopped at the water’s edge, my chest heaving. The ocean was a bright blue today, lapping at the brown sand and my feet. Almost like a mockery. Why wasn’t the sky gray and stormy, the ocean waves high and threatening? That would have been more appropriate for a day like today.

I’d been such an idiot. I’d known something was off about Nad—Tatiana. I knew that wasn’t the girl I’d fallen for. If I had asked a question of her—any of the important things—I would have known.

Nadira had said she was going to tell me about her lie, but she shouldn’t have had anything to tell in the first place. She was incredible, like no one I’d ever seen before. Tatiana’s bland form of beauty didn’t hold a candle to the bonfire flame that was Nadira.

A small part of me felt sorry for Nadira. What had the world told her to make her think that she wasn’t beautiful? That she wasn’t worthy of being seen and loved exactly as she was?

That sympathy was dangerous. It would lead me to forgiveness, and I knew better than that. My heart had been dragged through the coals once. I wasn’t doing it a second time.

I dropped to the ground, digging my fingers through the coarse mixture of sand and crushed shells. Footsteps sounded nearby, and Josh sat quietly beside me. I glanced over at him. He squinted toward the bright horizon, his mouth twisted thoughtfully to the side.

I let out a sigh. “You’re going to say something. Might as well go ahead.”

He smiled wryly. “Just that I’m sorry. I knew you really liked her.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s it?”

With a shrug, he added, “If you forgave her, I’d understand.”

“Not even a remote possibility,” I muttered. And I meant it. My mom always said, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” I wasn’t going to be made a fool more than I already had. The sting of tears hit my eyes, and I sniffed. I turned toward Josh again. “Is it bad that all I want to do is call my mom?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.” He began pushing himself up from the sand. “Why don’t you call her? I’ll go wait in the car.”

I nodded, not able to speak with the lump forming in my throat. I tried to swallow it down as I shifted to reach my phone in my pocket. Even though it had been months since we last spoke, my mom’s number was still on speed dial.

I typed one and her number automatically came up. With a shaky breath, I pushed call.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And then her voicemail played.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I brushed it away before standing up and going back to the car.