Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Fifteen

Callie

Carson texted me and asked me to meet him at the pool so we could leave from his work to go shopping. I told Mom I was leaving Franklin in the backyard for some exercise and slipped out the back gate. It was about a twenty-minute walk from my house, so I put in my headphones and listened to some music on the way.

This time of year, there were little kids playing in the small parks along the way. Seeing them made me smile as I thought of two ten-year-olds trying to swing higher than the other.

Through the pool fence, I caught sight of Carson pacing the perimeter of the water with his float. He wore board shorts only, avoiding a farmer’s tan like the one he got his first summer guarding. Across the water, a couple of college girls sat in the lounge chairs, ogling him. They kept giggling and glancing over their sunglasses, trying to get his attention.

Couldn’t they see he had more important things to focus on—like saving lives? Okay, to be fair, there were only three kids in the shallow end and an older lady who looked like she’d fallen asleep on a float, but still.

I approached the pool cabana and entered the code to get in.

“Hey, Cal,” said the pool manager, one of the moms who lived a few houses over from me.

“Mrs. Mayes, how are you?” I asked.

With a smile, she shrugged. “Can’t complain. Caden is actually lifeguarding this year.”

“You’re kidding!” I said. Her daughter had just finished her freshman year at Emerson High.

“Nope,” Caden said from behind me.

I turned to see her smiling with a full set of braces.

“Good for you!” I said. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s my first shift,” she said. “Carson gave me a few pointers though.”

I glanced at him, his whistle between his lips. He blew a few short bursts and then called, “Safety break!”

“He’s the best,” I said.

As the people in the pool made their way to the edges, Caden walked to the rack of lifeguard supplies behind her mom’s manager desk and grabbed a float. She looked so cute in her bright pink one-piece. Part of me thought it might be best to avoid swimming while someone so petite was responsible for saving my life.

Carson didn’t meet my eyes before hanging up his float.

Why did he seem so off? Usually I could count on him for a smile and a wave.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

I nodded.

He went back to the locked room where they kept their things and the lost and found. When he returned, he had his keys in hand and a T-shirt halfway over his head. He slid it over his abs and pushed out the door without even saying goodbye to Mrs. Mayes. Something was seriously wrong.

I followed a few steps behind him to his car and got in. He shut his door a little harder than usual. Where was my happy-go-lucky friend?

“What happened?” I asked, realizing he wasn’t going to divulge anything on his own.

He looked at me, and I jerked away from the bruise spreading around his eye with veins of purple and blue. A gasp escaped my lips. “Carson... what happened?”

His hands clenched on the steering wheel. “My mom took a traveling pharmacist job. She’s leaving my dad.”

My mouth fell open, my mind reeling with all that came along with that news. “She’s what?”

Carson's gaze darkened, and he pulled out of the parking lot, starting down the road. In the lines of his face and the whiteness of his knuckles, I felt each ounce of his pain as if it were my own. With each sister that left, things had gotten harder. His mom worked more hours, his dad began leaning on alcohol again for comfort at night, and Carson had been left to navigate life on his own. Still, his mom had always been at least a phone call away.

“But the bruise...” I covered my mouth. “Your dad was upset.”

“Their marriage has been over since before we moved here.”

For a moment, I realized how lucky I was, just to have the parents I did. And none of that had been due to anything but sheer fortune. What would my life be like if I’d been the one his parents had taken home from the hospital?

“What about your bruise?” I asked. It looked bad, and the fact that Carson was avoiding the topic scared me even more. Was he afraid to go home?

Carson’s jaw tightened. “He acted like he was walking away, then he threw a fist at me.”

My stomach churned. How was Carson driving right now? Keeping the car between the highway lines? I could barely sit up straight. “Are you okay?”

The second the words left my mouth I realized how dumb they were. Of course he wasn’t okay. The one person who should have been there for him no matter what, who should have kept him safe, had injured him. Now Carson had to wear the evidence of that betrayal on his face.

“I'm not,” he said. “But I will be.” He didn’t even sound like he believed the words.

There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could see it in the tightness around his eyes. In the hesitancy of his voice. “Carson, what’s going on?”

Instead of answering me, he silently pulled into Emerson Shoppes and stopped in a parking spot. Once the car was off and his seatbelt undone, he turned to me and said, “My mom said I could go with her or stay with my grandparents.”

His words practically opened the ground underneath me. “You’re moving?”

“I can’t stay with him.”

The ache in his voice hit me straight in the chest. “Don’t go,” I said, scrambling for ideas. “Stay with us. You know the spare room’s yours.”

He took a deep breath and met my eyes, his a dark, stormy blue. “I don’t want to ruin your last summer at home.”

I blinked, not understanding him. “You know what would ruin my last summer at home? Not spending it with my best friend. You have to stay.”

So much of my heart was on the line here. I may have had a crush on Nick, but Carson was everything to me. He’d been there for me, right next door or even in our house, since I was ten years old. Losing him would be like losing a part of myself.

“My dad will be mad—he’ll know I’m next door. I wouldn’t want him taking it out on you guys.”

Anger flared within me at the way that man had made my best friend’s life so miserable, but he was right. Staying with us would just put him more at risk. “There has to be a solution. Can you stay with Beckett?”

He shook his head. “They just have a two-bedroom, and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t like me bumming it on their couch for three months.”

“Think about it,” I said, reaching across the car and holding his hand. It was big and warm inside both of mine, but he still seemed so vulnerable. “I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to see how far your dad would go either. He’s evil to put you through this. What kind of person would lay a hand on another...” I shook my head in disgust. “It’s awful.”

His jaw trembled, but only for a moment, and he nodded. With a sniff, he looked out the car window and said, “Now, let's go get me some new board shorts.”

I wanted to talk to him more about everything, to let him know I was here for him no matter what, but there would be time for that eventually. There had to be.

As I got out of the car, my leg stuck to his leather seats, and I cringed. So not sexy. Not that I was really worried about Carson thinking I was sexy, but it was just a reminder of how unattractive I was. How much I really had to lose if Carson left.

We walked quietly across the parking lot and into a big department store. The line of doors let us into the women's section. I scanned the scanty summer pieces and shook my head. The thought of wearing something like that, showing the scaly skin on my neck and arms, made me feel ill. I could almost hear people at the pool calling me the Loch Ness monster and making fish faces at me.

Carson didn't seem to notice my expression as we walked toward the men's section of the store, which was buried so far back I almost thought it didn't exist.

We passed a big display of purses, and I paused, running my fingers over a silver buckle.

“Oh no you don't,” he said, gripping my fingers and pulling me away.

“But it’s so pretty!” I reached for it, but it was a losing fight.

“You told me you were trying to cut back!” he said, ignoring my longing looks over my shoulder.

“I need one for college.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “One of the thirty you already own won’t work?”

“No.” I sniffed. “None of my purses say ‘college girl’ like that one.”

“A talking purse?” he asked. “We better go back and get it.”

Barely keeping a straight face, I shook my head. “Now you’re just being rude.”

“Step away from the precious,” he said, making some people walking past us giggle.

Blushing furiously, I gave him a glare and began marching toward the illusive men’s section. “Let's get this over with.”

He laughed the entire way. Being with Carson was so easy. He had this amazing skill to smile through the hard times. To make the difficult look easy. I loved that about him.

“So,” I asked, standing in front of a rack of board shorts. “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“Mrs. Mayes is fine as long as it doesn’t have any words.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t get more, but the ones I have are just a little tight.”

I patted his firm belly. “Growing up, are you?”

He shoved me off, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“So what are you in the mood for, cabana boy?” I teased. I was still laughing about the summer an elderly lady had come to the pool every day and referred to him exclusively as “cabana boy.”

“Have your laughs,” he said, shuddering. “I still need therapy about that.”

I saw a floral pair of shorts that looked really cool and pulled them from the rack, along with a striped pair I knew he would like better, and handed them to him. If you wanted a guy to try something out of his comfort zone, you had to give him a practical option with it.

He raised his eyebrows at the floral pair. “Seriously?”

“Just try them on, cabana boy,” I said, pushing him toward the dressing room.

Shaking his head, he did as I asked, and I continued flipping through the racks, looking for more options for him to try on.

I heard a couple of guys talking nearby and glanced at them out of the corner of my eye. They were cute, but I didn’t recognize them. They probably went to one of the local public schools because I’d never seen them at Emerson or any games at Brentwood.

One of them caught me looking at him and snorted. “Are you checking me out?”

My cheeks got even redder than they were before, and I quickly shook my head. “No, I—”

“She totally was,” the other one said. “Ew. Why don’t you flirt with someone your own size?”

Suddenly I felt like a whale, ballooning to twice my weight. I wanted to tell them to stop, to stand up for myself like I should have back in middle school, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to say anything. I was just as frozen as I’d been on the basketball court, listening to everyone chant at me.

The other guy laughed. “Why are you shopping in the guys’ section anyway? Can’t find anything that fits over there?”

My shoulders sagged. I wanted to melt into the floor, to disappear into the heap of garbage I felt like.

An arm snaked around my shoulder, and Carson leaned low, brushing his lips against my cheek. “Hey, baby. Anything wrong?”

I still couldn’t bring myself to speak, maybe because of the fact that Carson had kissed my cheek.

He sent a steely glare at the guys who had been picking on me. “If you say one more word to my girl, I’ll put your lips over your head and force you to swallow them. Capisce?” Carson was standing at his full height—every six feet, two inches of it—and in his swimming trunks, it was easy to see the muscles he constantly worked to build.

“We were just kidding man,” the loudmouth said.

“You weren’t, and that’s not okay,” Carson said just as firmly as he held me at his side. “Now, get out of here before I consider introducing my fist to your useless face.”

The guys hightailed it away from the men’s section, and Carson stepped back from me, making me feel cold in his absence. He gestured at the floral shorts. “I’m getting them.”

I shook my head distractedly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight on. “Are you okay?”

Tears stung my eyes as the reality of what had happened settled in. I’d been called out for my appearance and had done nothing to defend myself. I felt like a failure, but mostly, I felt fat. “Can we just get out of here?”

He held me to his chest and hugged me tight. “Of course.”