Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Three

Twelve Years Old

Callie

Carson and I sat in the two bucket seats of Mom’s minivan on the way to our first boy-girl party at Merritt Alexander’s. Her family lived in a mansion, and her big brother, Ryde, was probably the cutest guy I’d ever seen. Even cuter than my favorite movie star. I wondered if he’d be there. If he’d like the bejeweled party dress Mom had bought me especially for this party.

Carson said, “Anne, do you have any more of that hard candy?”

His lips were already blue from “taste testing” the batch of candy Mom had made. She’d been on a real candy-making kick lately.

“They’re going to have food there,” I reminded him.

Dad chuckled from the front seat. “Carson’s a smart man. There’s no telling whether the food will actually be good or not.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not going there for the food.”

“Speak for yourself,” Carson said, taking another piece of candy from the tin Mom passed back.

Mom and Dad laughed, but I just shook my head. “Pass me one then.” If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Carson extended the tin, and I put a piece in my mouth. They actually tasted kind of like Jolly Ranchers. But instead of buying a pack, Mom had spent all afternoon in the kitchen making them. Seemed like a waste of time if you asked me.

Out the window, a long, tree-lined driveway came into view. Balloon bouquets were strung along the path, along with big signs saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY MERRITT.

Carson’s mouth fell open, showing half a piece of candy. “This is where Merritt lives?”

I nodded. “You should see the treat bags.”

Mom and Dad gave each other a look, then turned back to the road.

“What?” Carson asked, not hiding his excitement at all. “What’s in the treat bags?”

“Last year, they gave everyone a smart watch.”

His eyes lit up. “Seriously? I don’t even have a phone.”

Dad coughed. “They didn’t pay for service, though, did they?”

“I can still listen to music on it though,” I said.

“Do you think they’ll do that again this year?” Carson asked.

I shook my head. “It’s usually different. But this is the first party boys will be at, so who knows.”

Dad stopped behind another car letting out kids and turned back to us. “Okay, son, here’s what you need to know about a boy-girl party. You be the man, pull back chairs, hold open doors, pick up the extra plates.”

Carson’s eyebrows drew together. “That sounds so lame.”

Dad chuckled. “Not lame, chivalrous.”

“I don’t know, Dad,” I said. “Have you seen the guys in our class?”

“Someday,” Dad said, “stuff like that will matter.”

Mom smiled at Dad and said, “You’ll want a guy like that, Callie.”

“Like Carson?” I sputtered. “Ew, he’s like my brother!”

Mom and Dad laughed, and Carson got red.

“I wasn’t saying Carson specifically,” Dad said. “Just someone like him.”

Okay, now I was blushing. “Can we go?” I asked before they could turn their dating advice on me.

“Have fun,” Mom said. “We’ll be back at nine to get you.”

My hand was already on the handle, pushing the button to let us out. I climbed out of the car, careful to be modest with my dress, and started toward the door, nerves jumping through my system. What would a boy-girl party be like? Would we play Spin the Bottle? Would I have my first kiss? Was I ready for that?

We reached the front door, and Carson held it open for me.

I gave him a look. “You’re seriously following my dad’s advice?”

“It’s better than my dad’s advice,” he said as we stepped inside.

I didn’t get a chance to ask him what that advice had been before Merritt’s mom greeted us and told us the party was upstairs. Like we needed that knowledge. I could hear the music blaring from here.

As we walked toward the massive marble staircase, Carson whispered, “Merritt’s mom is hot.”

I elbowed him in the gut, and he doubled over, but it relieved me a little bit to be back to normal. Dad’s advice was weird. I didn’t like him telling Carson how to “get girls” just as much as I disliked him telling me what kind of guy I should go for. As far as I was concerned, Ryde Alexander was the dream guy.

We topped the stairs and followed the music to a massive room with a pool table, foosball, air hockey, a few pinball machines, and giant speakers blaring pop songs.

One of Carson’s friends, Beckett, came over and said hi. Carson asked him about the food, and within seconds, they were off to the tables filled with different foods and desserts.

I rolled my eyes at him, and Merritt came and slung her arm around my shoulders. “Hey, girl,” she said. “You killed it in the game yesterday!”

Tinsley and Poppy were beside her, and they nodded in agreement. “That spike was amazing.”

My cheeks felt hot. I loved volleyball, and I worked hard in the games, but I wasn’t used to getting compliments all the time. “You did great too, Merritt,” I said. “Your setting was awesome.”

She smiled and pushed some curls over her shoulder. “Aw, thanks.” I took in her outfit now, her sparkly dress and the tiara that said BIRTHDAY GIRL atop her head.

“Love your outfit,” I said, grinning. “We almost match.”

“We do!” she said and held out her phone, already on selfie mode. “Let’s get a picture.”

I held up a peace sign and stuck out my tongue while she pursed her lips together and made a duck face.

“Okay, now a smiling one,” she said.

I grinned into the camera, liking the way I looked in the makeup Mom let me wear. I hoped Ryde liked it too.

After Merritt left to hang out with some of her other friends, I looked around and found Ryde leaning against a wall with a couple of his friends. They were all in high school, and they looked like royalty, even though they weren’t dressed up like the rest of us.

Rumors had started going around that Ryde was going to get a big role in a movie soon. I hoped he would—then I wouldn’t just have to stare at his pictures on social media.

The music stopped, and I looked around to see Merritt standing on the air hockey table holding up a glass of punch. “Time to play Seven Minutes in Heaven!”

The blood drained from my face, and nerves danced in my stomach.

“And since I’m the birthday girl, I get to pick,” she said. Her eyes narrowed in on the cutest boy in our grade. “Me and Beckett.”

Beckett’s cheeks were bright red as Merritt’s friends helped her down from the table and she walked to him. She took his hand and led him through double doors into what looked like a bedroom.

After the door closed, I beelined to Carson, who held a plate piled high with snacks.

“Oh my gosh,” I said.

He had to work to swallow the massive bite in his mouth. “What happened?”

Carson could be so oblivious sometimes. “Merritt and Beckett! Seven Minutes in Heaven!”

Rolling his eyes, he said, “Five bucks they don’t do anything.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Not even kiss?”

He shook his head.

“Make it ten.”

“Who do you think she’ll pick next?” Carson asked, looking around.

“Probably Tinsley and someone.” I glanced around, trying to figure out who the cutest guy in the room would be after Beckett.

My cheeks flushed as I realized it would be Carson.

“Maybe Dugan?” Carson suggested.

“Sure,” I said, not wanting to share my revelation. “But he’s kind of a jerk.”

“What?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, glad he was so oblivious despite my red face.

“Want a pig in a blanket? They’re like heaven.”

He held one out, and I took a bite. “Why are you so hungry all the time?”

Beating his chest with his free hand, he said, “I’m a growing boy.”

The double doors opened, and the room grew hushed. I took them in, Merritt’s disheveled crown and Beckett’s lips smeared with lipstick.

“Ten dollars,” I said to Carson. “Hand it over.”

“You don’t know—”

“Next up,” Merritt yelled, “Callie and Carson!”

“Oh no,” I said. “Why don’t you let someone else have a turn?”

Merritt marched over to us, put her hands on our backs, and began shoving us toward the bedroom. “You score on the court, time to score in real life.”

The doors banged shut behind us, and Carson and I stared at each other, white as the messed-up sheets on the bed.

Merritt yelled through the door, “If you don’t do anything, we’ll know!”

Carson gulped. Like out loud.

“Same,” I said.

He looked from me to the door. “We don’t have to,” he whispered.

“We’re not,” I said, my heart racing. “You’re like my brother.”

“I’m glad you noticed. I always try to ask myself, WWJD: what would Joe do?”

I rolled my eyes and shoved his arm. Using the momentum of my push, he turned and sat on a bench along the foot of the bed, then extended his plate.

I looked at the picked over food and saw a chocolate-covered strawberry. Picking it up, I took a bite, chewing nervously. “That still doesn’t solve the problem though. How can we make it look like we...”

Merritt banged on the door. “Timer won’t start until you do!”

Carson’s lips turned up in a grin, and he stood and did something I never thought he would: set his plate down.

“Come on,” he said and tugged me toward the bed.

My eyes flew open, and I held back. What was Carson doing?

He climbed onto the bed and pulled me up with him. Then he started jumping.

My laugh was soft and breathy. Relieved. And I started jumping with him.

Cheers erupted from outside the room. Carson still held my hands as he jumped with me, and then he flopped to his butt and pulled me on top of him, rubbing my head with his fist.

I groaned and pushed him off of me.

More cheers sounded outside the door.

A wide grin spread on his face. “I’m a genius.”

Shaking my head, I got off the bed and straightened my dress. “You’re something, alright.”

“But you love it,” he said, following me.

“What’s not to love?”

From outside the door, Merritt yelled, “Time’s up!”

I walked to the door and put my hand on the handle, but Carson stopped me, his hand atop mine.

My breath caught, and I looked at him, trying to figure out what he was doing.

His green eyes sparked as he smiled. “A man always opens a door for a lady.”

Catching my breath, I stepped back and let him open the door.

We walked out of the room like heroes. A bunch of guys took Carson in and held him up on their shoulders. The girls crowded me, asking me what it was like. I looked at them and grinned. “Fun.”

CARSON

When Callie’s parents stopped in their driveway, my house’s front porch light was off and Mom’s car was gone. She’d picked up a night shift again.

“Need a light?” Callie’s dad offered, reaching for his phone.

“I’m good,” I said. Gemma, Sierra, and I were getting pretty good at navigating around our house in the dark.

I waved goodbye and crossed the grass to my house. I put my key in the front door and tried to be as quiet as possible as I opened it. Unfortunately, Dad was wide awake on his recliner, the TV’s blue light reflected on his surly face.

“You’re back late,” he spat.

I felt caught—between the truth and what my dad expected me to say. The truth was that my mom knew Callie’s family was taking me to the party and bringing me back—she hadn’t given me a curfew. Dad expected me to apologize. To give in to whatever he said.

I decided to avoid a fight. “I’m sorry,” I said, locking the deadbolt behind me, even though it felt like sealing my own fate.

“I’m sorry’s not gonna cut it,” Dad sneered. “What happens when you get a job and you show up late?”

As if he had a job or knew what it was like to be held accountable to anything except a La-Z-Boy recliner. I stayed still like a deer might in the road.

Dad shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Get out of here.”

He didn’t need to ask me twice. I hurried toward the stairs and took them two at a time. The second I reached the top, Clary whisper-yelled to me from her room. “Carson!”

I followed her voice and leaned against the open door. She was sitting on her bed, her computer in front of her and countless papers around her.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh this?” She began scooping up the papers and patted at the bed. “College applications.”

“I didn’t know you were going to college,” I said honestly.

She shook her head. “I have to get out somehow. Rex’s not about to get me out of this house and somewhere better.”

I looked toward the ceiling, thanking whatever God might be out there that she was seeing her jerk of a boyfriend wasn’t the guy she thought he was.

“What’s your plan?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“To get out.”

Her words hit me like a sack of bricks. I didn’t have a plan to get out. Did that mean I’d be stuck here forever like Dad?

“Here.” She handed me a red folder. “Stanford has a swim team. I think you could get a scholarship if you keep working at it.”

“What about you?” I asked, feeling the smooth paper under my fingers. “Where are you going?”

She held up a purple folder. “TCU. Grandma and Gramps said I could live with them to save money. They have a good child development program.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help kids like I wasn’t able to help you guys.”

My chest had that tight feeling again. Because she was right. Trying to help us had only hurt her.

“Enough about me,” she said. “How was tonight? Did you get your first kiss?”

My shoulders sagged. “I did what you said to do. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested, but I just ended up eating the whole time.”

She laughed and rubbed my shoulder. “Oh, Carson. You’re too sweet.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Callie’s dad said women like polite men.”

She shook her head. “Maybe when they’re older. Like out of college and ready to settle down. Girls your age want a guy they can’t get.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Clary glanced toward her window, seeming sad. “I know.”

“So what do I do?” I asked. “I don’t want to be in the friend zone forever.”

“You be yourself,” Clary said and brushed some hair out of my eyes like Mom used to do. “If she doesn’t see how amazing you are, she doesn’t deserve you.”