Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Twenty-Six

CARSON

Sitting in the car with Callie, I could smell her perfume, and it was intoxicating. We’d been together before, but it was like I was smelling her for the first time. Maybe it was all this date stuff that was making my mind go into hyperdrive. Whatever it was, I kept breathing it in, savoring it, because I knew this couldn’t last.

Then I realized what a creep I was for sniffing my best friend like she was some kind of candle in Bath and Body Works. I needed to get a grip on myself, and fast, before I forgot that this was fake to Callie.

I pulled up to Beckett’s apartment building, and Callie gave me a confused look. “What are we doing here?”

“This is where Beckett lives,” I said.

Her eyebrows came together in the cutest way. “We’re telling Beckett about us in person?”

With a smile, I shook my head. “Even better. Come on.”

We got out of the car, and I led her toward the elevator in the parking garage. Using the key that Beckett gave me, I unlocked the elevator button labeled R.

Her eyes widened as she took in the lit level. “We’re going to the roof?”

I nodded.

The indicator in the elevator changed from 12 to PH to R, and the doors opened to a terrace filled with greenery and twinkling lights. It was beautiful up here—I could tell from the way Callie’s hands covered her mouth and her eyes shining right along with the lights and stars.

“How does a little stargazing sound?” I asked.

“Amazing,” she answered, lowering her hands.

Even though there wasn’t anyone around to impress, I took her hand, and she let me. This was our dream date, and I wanted to experience it fully with Callie, even if it wasn’t “real,” even if it wouldn’t last. Even if it was the only time.

With our fingers laced together, I led her around a planter, revealing the nest of blankets and cushions I’d asked Beckett to set up for us. Even though it was late May, the ocean blew cool air over the coast and night, and I didn’t want her to get too cold.

The second our fingers slipped apart, I felt her absence, but I tried not to lament that fact as I lay back on one of the cushions. She lay beside me, settling in.

“We can’t see all the stars, since there’s some light pollution, but we can at least see some of the major constellations,” I said. “You like it?”

“I love it,” she breathed. “I can’t believe you set this up.”

When she said things like that, my chest seemed to swell, like I was the strongest man in the world, just because she believed in me.

For a moment, we lay there, the breeze sweeping around us as we stared up at the sky. There were a few constellations I could point out. Orion’s Belt was always the first thing I saw when I looked at the sky, but Callie quickly found Cassiopeia and Mars.

“Would you ever live on Mars?” I asked. “I heard they’re sending people up there soon.”

“They always say that,” she replied.

I rolled my head to the side and looked at her. “Would you, though?”

She turned her head toward me, hair falling over her cheek, and smiled softly. “It depends. Would you come with me?”

Her words caught me off guard, and I had to take a deeper breath to reply, “Of course.”

“Then sure,” she said. “Remember our promise?”

“Wherever you go, so do I,” I breathed. If only she knew how much of a bad idea that was for the both of us. That I would someday have to break it for her well-being.

“Exactly.” She rolled her head toward the stars. “Besides, if I’m not around, who’s going to tell you to get a haircut?”

My lips twitched. “You have a problem with my long hair?”

“Of course not. But then again, I take care of stray dogs, remember?”

“Ha.” She was only teasing, but it cut a little too deep. For a little while, I focused on the sky, on the stars and how small I was in this big world. If I remembered I was small, maybe these feelings wouldn’t be so big.

We were quiet for a bit, looking at the stars, thinking our own thoughts, and then Callie whispered, “What’s next?”

“We make it official.” My voice was hoarse as I breathed the words I’d been dreaming of saying for so long. “Callie Copeland, will you be my girlfriend?”

Her breathing was ragged, and then she replied, “Of course I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

The response tore me apart, but I forced a smile as I reached for my phone and swiped to the camera. I held it out and took a picture of us, her hair splayed around us as we grinned into the camera. Her smile lit the screen bright enough to hide the light that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

Once the image was frozen, saved forever, I went to social media and made it official. The public start of my own personal heartbreak.