Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Thirteen

Callie

I got to the bakery early, not wanting to waste any of our strategy time. I had a big goal, I wasn’t sure whether Carson would help me, and the clock was still counting down.

The owner of the bakery, Gayle, greeted me with a big grin. “Hey, girl, how you doing?”

“Great.” I smiled at her. I loved how much care she and her husband put into knowing each of their customers. I hoped I could make people feel that special and heard someday.

Her husband walked by and patted her on the butt before going back to the kitchen. Her cheeks (the ones on her face) glowed bright pink, and she said, “He is such a child.”

I laughed with her, because he kind of was, but he reminded me of Carson. It seemed like Gayle and her husband were more than man and wife; they were best friends. “How do you guys keep your relationship so good?” I asked. I needed all the advice I could get.

She smiled over her shoulder at where he had gone inside the kitchen. “The best advice I can give you is to marry your best friend.”

The thought of marrying Carson made me laugh. That might have been good advice for her, but if I married my best friend, I would just have a life full of pranks—waking up with frogs in my flour tins or my hand in a warm bowl of water didn't exactly fit my expectation of “happily ever after.”

Instead of telling her that, I asked, “How did you and Chris meet?”

She leaned over the counter and rested her chin in her hand, like she was deep in thought. “Well, he would tell you that we met in sixth grade when I was a new student at Seaton Middle School, but I honestly don't remember talking to him until he asked me to the seventh-grade dance.”

I raised my eyebrows in awe. “You guys have been dating since seventh grade?”

She smiled. “There were a couple of lost years in there, but if I know anything, it's that love always finds a way.”

I smiled, hoping that would be true for me too because playing the piccolo in boxy marching band uniforms didn't exactly tip the odds in my favor.

A guy in a military uniform entered the store, and Gayle picked herself up from the counter. “Better get you checked out. What can I get you, honey?”

I put in an order for each of us and then went to look for a table where we could have at least a little privacy. There were a few older people situated around the dining area, along with an excruciatingly cute couple splitting a heart-shaped donut.

Out the window, I could see Zara's new car, well, new-to-her car, pulling into the parking lot. Since her dad had admitted to their production company’s challenges, she’d downgraded to a more standard SUV. She looked just as fashionable getting out of that car as she had the Rolls-Royce. Even though she didn't start work at Bhatta Productions until later this morning, she looked exactly like a movie producer should in her gladiator sandals, stylish khaki joggers and tight black tank.

I looked down at my striped shorts and band camp T-shirt, feeling a little insecure. I didn't usually get jealous about other girls—everyone had their own talents—but I couldn't help feeling like Nick might be more interested in me if I had Zara's sense of style.

She walked inside, and I waved her over to the table I had found. Grinning, she came over to me and gave me a hug before setting her purse down and taking a seat. Each of my friends came into the bakery one by one until we were all sitting, eating our breakfast and sipping from delicious beverages.

“Could Gayle get any better?” I asked. “The food is amazing, and she and Chris are so nice.”

“I know!” Jordan cried. “I miss coming by here every day since we moved to our new place.”

“They are definitely hashtag goals,” Ginger said with a grin.

“They’re great,” Rory agreed, “but quit stalling.” She banged her fist on the table like a gavel. “Let's call this meeting to order. What's going on, Callie?”

My cheeks heated, being put on the spot, and I almost considered telling the girls that I just wanted to hang out, but I sucked it up. Playing it safe was what got me to senior graduation without ever having kissed a boy.

“I need your help getting a guy to fall in love with me.”

Their eyes immediately lit up, and Ginger said, “Are you finally going to tell Carson you like him?”

“What?” I asked, stunned. “No. No. Definitely not.” I was even more shocked at the disappointment on their faces. “You guys think I like Carson?”

Jordan and Zara gave each other a look, and Zara said, “I'm pretty sure you're the only one who doesn't know that you like Carson.”

I shook my head. There had been a time when I dreamed of a happily ever after for Carson and me, but it just wasn’t realistic to think that way. Why would I risk a friendship that close, that precious, on something as volatile as romance? I cared about Carson like he was family, and that was exactly why I’d moved on to someone else. “I like Nick. Remember?”

Jordan raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re not just aiming low because you’re worried about what Carson would say if you told him how you feel?”

“I would have to feel a certain way to be worried about whether or not Carson reciprocated the feelings,” I said, exasperated. “And going for Nick is hardly aiming low.”

Zara pursed her lips together. “Mhmm.”

I raised my eyebrows, beginning to feel frustrated. “Can you just help me?”

Rory shook her head. “You know how well you guys setting me up with Beckett went.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You fell in love with him and are still dating and now moving to New York together. I definitely want the group’s help.”

“You’re forgetting the part where I had cupcakes showered all over me and I nearly lost the love of my life,” she pointed out.

“Minor details, right, Cal?” Ginger said with a teasing grin.

I put my head in my hands. “I’m hopeless. I know. Maybe when I go off to college they’ll need a sacrificial virgin or something.”

Rory glanced at the other girls, communicating silently with them, then turned to me. “Callie, I don't know how to say this, but you really don't need our help. You're amazing the way you are, and if Nick doesn't see that, then he's just a half-witted, video-game-addicted, stupid college boy.”

I groaned. “You guys are starting to sound like Carson.”

“Like Carson?” Jordan asked. “You told him you like Nick?”

I wished I hadn’t, considering all the embarrassment of the night before. “I asked him if he would help me get Nick to fall in love with me, and he said no. I'm still hoping I can convince him tonight.”

Zara wiggled her eyebrows. “Tonight? What are you guys doing?”

“Don't get too excited,” I said, staring sadly at my bagel. “We're just going shopping for his work clothes.”

“Wait,” Rory said, holding up a finger. “He’s a lifeguard. You’re going swimsuit shopping with him? Hubba hubba!”

Ginger fanned herself, and Jordan whistled.

Zara elbowed my arm. “Get some good looks in.”

“You know it’s not like that,” I said, my cheeks feeling hot. “He just doesn’t want to go by himself.”

“Shopping actually sounds like fun,” Ginger said. “I wish Ray was into that kind of thing.”

Shopping with Carson was fun. He was an amazing friend, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Apparently, my friends couldn’t either. Maybe that was part of the problem.

“So will you help me?” I asked, desperate.

Rory reached across the table and patted my hand. “You don’t need us. You’ve got this.”

The problem was I really, really didn’t. As I fought my disappointment, I held out hope that somehow, some way, Carson would take pity on me and agree to help.