Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Forty-Three

Nadira

My house loomedin front of me, and I wanted to be anywhere else other than looking up at the brick building. My parents and brothers were inside, all of them with successful relationships of their own. Even my brother had chosen Tatiana over me.

A soft sigh escaped my lips. Dad had taught me how I should expect to be treated, not how I should treat someone else. That was the problem.

I couldn’t stop replaying Apollo’s words in my mind. He’d said he hadn’t thought I was ugly before. Did that mean he’d thought I was pretty? Beautiful even?

Behind me, Des said through the open window, “Go inside, girl. You can do it.”

I looked over my shoulder at her and then faced the house again, forcing one leg in front of another until I reached the front door.

Feeling like my hands were made of lead, I twisted the door open, praying for the first miracle of the day. That my family would be occupied and I could enter the sanctuary of my room unnoticed.

What I found instead was every single one of them hanging out at the kitchen island near the entrance of the house. When I walked in, all of their heads swiveled toward me, and Dad’s face quickly fell.

“Honey, I—” he began.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” My feet carried me quickly over the floor to the stairs, and I pounded up as quickly as I could go before getting to my room and locking the door behind me.

I dropped my bag on the floor and lay on my bed, closing my eyes. Dad would be coming up here soon. Or he’d send Mom up. It was only a matter of time.

My phone vibrated, and I reached for it, hoping it was Apollo, that he’d thought it through and changed his mind. Instead, I found a message from Cori.

Cori: We’ll bring your car back and leave your keys under the mat. Let me know if you need ANYTHING, okay? We love you, no matter what.

My heart ached at her kind words.

What did I want?

In the movies, girls always made heartbreak better with frosting and ice cream and romantic movies, but I didn’t feel like any of that would help. I’d had one chance at a real relationship, one chance at butterflies, and I’d ruined it.

I wished I would have just told him the truth about the picture over the phone, because the disappointed look on his face would forever be etched into my mind.

A knock sounded on my door, and when I didn’t reply, Dad called, “Dira, are you okay?”

I put a pillow over my face and groaned.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” he said.

Letting out a sigh, I removed the pillow and said, “Why are you even here? You don’t care.” My voice cracked on the last three words, and my chest felt hollow, like it could cave in at any moment.

“Of course I care,” he said.

“I don’t believe you.” My voice broke again, and I stifled a sob.

“Can I please come in and talk to you?”

“No,” I said, half expecting him to try the handle or ask again.

Instead, he said, “What happened with that boy?”

“Why does it have to be about a boy?” I asked, hating that it was. “Can’t it be about the fact that I got voted Most ‘Unique’ in the yearbook or that I’m fat or that my skin looks like a freaking Dalmatian’s? Or how about the fact that you and Mom have made it to almost every single basketball game of the season but only two of my Mathlete competitions?”

Dad was quiet for a moment. “Is that what it is?”

I didn’t answer.

“Nadira, I don’t know what to do.”

The words were almost worse than any other he could have offered. Because instead of denying anything that I’d told him, he’d agreed through omission.

“Just go away,” I said. “Leave me alone.”

I waited for a reply, for an argument, but none came. Instead, I heard the faint sound of his footsteps on the stairs as he walked away.

* * *

The next morning, a soft knock sounded on my door. I almost told them to leave me alone, thinking it was Mom or Dad, but instead a rustling sound hit my ears.

I looked at the door and saw paper sliding underneath.

I got up and went to look at it. As I drew closer, I could see what it was. A paper crown with the words Nadira’s Brother written in thick black marker. And underneath, in Carver’s messy scrawl, Love you, sis.

I smiled, my lips wavering, and held it to my chest.

* * *

Sometime in the afternoon, another knock on my door woke me from the half-sleep I’d been trying to numb myself in. I was quiet this time as the handle turned. I blinked against the strip of light coming from the hallway and saw Terrell standing there.

“Hey,” he said quietly. He lifted a paper bag. “I went to that bakery you like and got you something.”

“Thanks,” I said, my voice raspy. My head felt heavy, my eyes raw, and I just wanted to keep sleeping until I forgot what a horrible thing I’d done.

He came and sat at the foot of my bed, handing me the bag.

Slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and carefully pulled at the edges of the paper until the staple came loose. Inside, there was a sandwich wrapped in cellophane, a bag of chips and a cardboard container they used to store cupcakes. Any other day I would have torn into it, but just the sight of food made my stomach turn.

“I heard what happened,” he said quietly.

I waited for him to start in with the usual comments and judgments. “Get on with it,” I said. “Tell me how dumb I was for lying and that Apollo deserves better.” I’d thought all of it at least a million times.

“No,” he said, resolute. “Tatiana should never have put you in that position. That’s why I ended things with her.”

“What?” I asked, stunned. “I thought you really liked her.”

Terrell gave me a wry smile. “You weren’t the only one hiding who you really were.”

It pained me to realize Tatiana and I weren’t that different in certain ways.

“Ryker’s got a silence order on everyone,” Terrell continued. “And Carver and I got the basketball team in on it. If anyone says anything to or about you, they’ll have us to deal with.”

I looked up at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. Terrell and Carver and I had never been what I’d consider close, but they’d been more there for me this weekend than my parents had.

“Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked.

“They went clothes shopping with Carver.” He flipped the rubber bracelet on his wrist. “I overheard them say they’re planning on talking to you tomorrow. After you’ve had some space to process.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

He nodded slowly then stood up, clearly feeling awkward. I wanted to reassure him that I was thankful, but he said, “Want me to turn the light on before I go? It’s still early.”

I shook my head.

With a sad look, he turned and left my room, shutting the door behind him. The last thing I remembered seeing before falling asleep again was the bag from Seaton Bakery sitting on my nightstand.