Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Thirty-Four

CARSON

I walked through the green belt to where I had parked my car at the pool. We’d decided that was safer than parking in front of Callie’s house. Still, I kept my phone gripped tightly in my hand in case my dad was waiting for me there. As planned, Gemma stood beside my car so I could give her a ride back to the hotel.

“How’d it go tonight?” I asked, hitting the unlock button on my key fob.

She shrugged and opened her door. “I stayed upstairs, he stayed downstairs... Is there anything you want me to save from your room?”

I shook my head and got into the car. “I have everything I need.” It felt both good and scary to say that, but it was the truth. I had the things I’d bought for college, like my new computer and bedding for the dorms, and I had built up a good savings account to replace anything else that might come up. My room at school would come furnished, and I had an unlimited meal plan, thanks to my swim scholarship. I would be fine, as long as I could live with a broken heart.

“You know what I miss most about Emerson?” Gemma asked.

I glanced over at her as I started the car. “What’s that?”

“The beach. It’s not the same in New York, and it takes forever to get there. By the time I get off work and ride on the subway, it’s basically time to turn around and go back home.”

“I can do something about that,” I replied, smiling.

“Good.” She buckled herself in, and I began driving the familiar path to Seaton Pier. We could have gone to the more touristy beach near Brentwood, but that didn’t feel right for tonight.

“What do you do besides work?” I asked her. All I’d heard her talk about was her job, not any friends or boyfriends.

She shrugged. “I have a cat.”

“That just sounds sad,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I catch a movie every now and then or see a play or just walk around and explore. Manhattan’s not like here. You don’t have to plan things; they’re just always happening around you. It’s one of the reasons I love living there.”

I nodded, but it was still hard to miss the hint of loneliness in her voice. I imagined Gemma in a big city, surrounded by people but all by herself.

Soon, we reached the pier, and Gemma grinned. “You know, I always liked this one better than the uppity beach in Brentwood.”

With a chuckle, I nodded. “I get what you mean.” Even though we’d attended Emerson Academy, the Catholic school we’d gone to in Texas was way more laid back. We weren’t used to the money that ran deep at the Academy.

We got out of the car and walked over the wooden planks to the coarse sand lining the ocean. Even at night, this place felt alive in a way our suburb didn’t. You could hear the rolling waves, see driftwood bonfires crackling in the distance, feel the electricity in the breeze. For the first time in a while, my chest felt lighter, and I took a deep breath, savoring the feeling.

Gemma adjusted her jeans and settled in the sand. As I sat down beside her, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Didn’t you already?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes, then looked over the water for a moment. “Why haven’t you made a move with Callie?”

Her question brought all the tightness back in my chest, reminding me of my problems. “How do you know I haven’t made a move?”

With all the confidence in the world, she said, “Because if you had made a move, you would actually be dating right now.”

Her statement took me aback. “What?”

“Carson,” she said sternly. “Come on. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you love each other and are just too afraid of getting hurt. It’s the oldest, lamest story of all time. Girl likes boy, boy likes girl, they don’t do anything because they’re ‘worried about hurting their friendship’ and then they needlessly pine over each other until one of them moves on and gets married. Meanwhile, the other one lives their entire life alone, or sad, until that person’s spouse dies and they finally get a second chance. By then, they’re both mad they wasted all that time when they just could have said something. It’s annoying.”

I raised my eyebrows. “And oddly specific.”

She shook her head with an exasperated smile. “Seriously, Cars. Why haven’t you made a move? Don’t you think it’s about time to be honest with her?”

Her jab at my character just reminded me of all the reasons I shouldn’t tell Callie the truth. “Gemma, you don’t get it.”

“No, what I don’t get is why you can’t just let yourself be happy! I’ve been here three days, and I can already see you’re miserable! Why?”

“Because I almost killed Dad! Okay?” I stood and ripped my fingers through my hair, pacing in the deep sand. I turned toward Gemma, needing her to see what a monster I was. “That night Mom told me she was leaving him? I choked him out, and I didn’t want to stop. He hadn’t even touched her, just threw a bottle at the wall, and I was going to keep pushing on his windpipe until I watched the light leave his eyes.” I ripped at my chest, at the part where my heart should have been. “And I would have killed him, if Mom hadn’t snapped me out of it. Callie deserves so much better than me it’s pathetic. I’m no better than Dad. As soon as I get Nick to fall for her, I’m out of her life for good.”

Gemma’s face was such an open book I could see the emotions playing across her face. Shock. Worry. Confusion. Disappointment. But I didn’t see fear. Why didn’t I see fear?

She stayed quiet, processing it all right in front of me, and I stood frozen in the sand, trying to see the moment she realized that if Callie should get away from me, maybe she should too.

I couldn’t take the silence anymore, couldn’t take not knowing what she thought of me now. “Say something!”

“Oh, Carson,” she breathed.

The tenderness in her words made my eyes sting. “Go ahead, Gem, tell me I’m worthless. Tell me to leave. I already know the truth.”

She stood and put her hands on my shoulders. Even though I was taller by a good six inches, she held my gaze with all the force of someone much bigger than her. “You listen to me, and you listen to me good,” she ordered, her voice firm. She pointed a finger at my face. “You are nothing like our father. He hurt you—hurt us—and when you feel so much pain for so long, you’ll do anything to stop it.”

My jaw trembled, and I shook my head. “But I would have killed him,” I breathed. “Sometimes I get so angry I still feel like I could.”

She tapped my chest with her finger, hard. “You have a heart of gold, and you would do anything for that girl. She would be lucky to have someone like you.”

Tears flowed from my eyes. I broke down, fell onto the sand sobbing and wishing with all my heart that Gemma’s words were true. She held me to her chest, rubbing my back, running her hands over my hair.

As my sobs subsided, I sat up and wiped at my eyes. “Some welcome home, huh? Your dad’s losing it, and your brother’s falling apart.”

She held my chin up and looked at me. “My dad is facing the consequences of his actions, and my brother is finally, finally getting to stand on his own.”

“But the curse—”

“Is nonsense,” Gemma said. “It’s a way for us to minimize generational trauma and toxic cycles. You don’t have to be like them.”

“But what if I am?” I asked. Even breathing the question scared me. But not as much as hearing her answer.

“What if you aren’t?” she said. “What if everything you’ve ever wanted is on the other side of that fear, and all you have to do is ask for it?”

I looked at the rolling waves, then turned my gaze back on her. “Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

My voice was hoarse. “That I’m not like him? The thought of hurting Callie...” Emotion overwhelmed me, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the swell.

Gemma put her hand on my arm. “This, right here? This is exactly how I can tell the curse ends with you. You deserve to have the love you never got to live with, and Callie? She deserves to be loved by you.”

With Gemma’s words healing the cracks in my heart, I decided. I was going to make my move. I was going to see what lay on the other side of my fear.