Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Thirty-Nine

Callie

The second Carson and Gemma’s dad began stirring, we got into my car and drove away. He would be fine, but the two of us? That was questionable.

She sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, only speaking to give me directions right or left until I was under the entrance awning of her hotel. Even when I got my car in park, Gemma didn’t move. She stayed still for a moment, her eyes reflecting the hotel’s green and blue neon sign.

Slowly, she rolled her head toward me, and her eyes were haunted—pools of horror I couldn’t imagine—accented with a patch of purple mirroring the one I’d seen on Carson’s face at the start of the summer.

“Please don’t be mad at Carson,” she said. “He was just trying to protect me.”

“I’m not mad at him,” I breathed. I was terrified. The Carson I’d seen in my driveway was not the friend I thought I knew. The Carson I knew never would have gone further than defending himself, never had the cold-blooded rage I’d seen in his eyes and in his actions. Who was that person I’d seen watching the life leave his dad’s eyes? Would he come back?

Gemma nodded. “You know when you guys were twelve and there was that party at that snobby girl’s house...Meredith?”

“Merritt,” I said.

She gave a tired smile. “Merritt. Carson asked all us girls for advice before the party on how to get you to like him.” She laughed softly. “We told him to pretend he wasn’t interested, and he said he just ate all night.”

The memory of him and the snack bar was still fresh. It made my lips turn up and my eyes water at the same time.

“He’d do anything for you,” she said and peeled herself out of her seat. The action seemed to require all of her strength, and I asked, “Do you need me to walk you up to your room?”

She shook her head. “We Cook women learn how to deal with the bruises.”

There was a bitter irony in her voice that sent an ache straight to my heart. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what I was apologizing for. I couldn’t fix their situation. Couldn’t change the family they were born into.

With a slight wave, she walked through the hotel’s sliding doors.

After her form had disappeared around a corner, I reached for my phone. Part of me was hoping to see a text from Carson. Some kind of explanation for what had happened or why he hadn’t let up when he’d clearly won against his father.

No new notifications waited for me. I even got on social media, hoping against all hope there would be a message there. Instead, I found something worse. An update showing Carson’s relationship status had changed to single.

My heart shattered all over again, but I couldn’t even cry. I was numb, in shock maybe, about what had happened. And even worse, I was a tiny bit relieved. I knew I should have been able to love Carson through what I saw, been on his side, but how could I give all of myself to someone, trust someone entirely, when I didn’t even know all of who he was? We’d been best friends for eight years, and he’d hidden a part of himself so well I’d only just now seen it. What else lay beneath the surface?

I drove home, not even a single tear slipping down my cheek, but when I found myself in the safe place of my bed, looking at the closed curtain and knowing I’d never see my best friend through it again, I fell apart.

I sobbed until there was nothing left of me but tears and pain, and then slowly, mercifully, that pain led me to sleep.

* * *

I woke in the morning to a soft shake on my shoulder. My eyelids scratched over my dry eyes as I rolled over to see who’d come. Joe stood by my bed, one arm across his chest.

“Hey, Cal,” he said softly.

He knew. I wasn’t sure how, but I could see it in his stance, hear it in his voice, and it brought moisture to my eyes all over again.

Slowly, he sat on the edge of my bed and put a hand on my shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

I gave him a look. My puffy eyes could tell him all he needed to know.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Is there anything I can do? Do you need me to beat him up or something?”

The comment was too close to home, knowing Carson probably had bruises to match Gemma’s right now. “No, it’s fine.”

“Is it?” he asked.

Slowly, I shook my head, blinking quickly to hold back another flood of tears.

He rubbed my shoulder. “Should I have Mom call into work for you?”

“No.” Because the only thing worse than going on with my life and acting like everything was okay would be sitting here and focusing on all the ways it wasn’t.

“Okay,” Joe said and paused. “I know I made fun of you two, but I really thought—I don’t know. I thought you would make it.”

“I did too,” I breathed. And now it was over before it even really began.

He stood, and I got off of my bed too. The only way I knew to survive the break in my chest was to move. I got dressed, put on my makeup, and left for the shelter that had always been my safe place. I hoped it would feel that way today.

When I arrived, Lorelei told me the plan for the day—exercise the animals and give the dogs practice being on leashes. That sounded good to me. I’d be able to keep moving.

“Merritt can help you walk them,” Lorelei added. “Could be a good chance for her to bond with the animals.”

“Great.” Just what I needed. Extra time with Merritt while I was vulnerable. Her surgically altered nose could smell weakness from a mile away and then somehow know exactly what to do to capitalize on it. The only thing I had on my side was that she had a weakness too.

Last I’d heard on the news, her father had been let out of jail on bail, but the Feds still weren’t unfreezing his bank accounts. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Alexanders had to move to a less extravagant place. Or if Pam would have to find a job outside of volunteering as Emerson Academy’s cheer coach.

Trying not to think of Merritt, or anyone else for that matter, I went to the dog room and pulled out a walking list. I could pair some of the animals together to do more work at one time, but some of the animals hated being around other dogs or cats at all.

I’d already leashed up a couple of dogs, but Merritt was still nowhere in sight. Leashes in hand, I walked to the kitten room and didn't see her there, nor in the storage area. The grooming room was the last place to look.

I pushed open the door and found her sitting with her back to me. “There you are.”

She sniffed and turned toward me, revealing a small cat sitting on her lap. “Go away, she said.

Feeling the hurt in her voice, and recognizing my own, I stepped closer. The cat jumped out of her lap, and she said, “Great, look what you did,” all the while, wiping the tears and running makeup from her face.

“What's going on?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes at me, and then her entire hard exterior shattered, showing how broken she was on the inside. “You’ve seen what happened with my dad.”

“I did,” I said honestly. “I'm so sorry. I sent you a text, but it probably wasn’t enough.”

She wiped at her eyes, which were still leaking profusely.  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up to helicopters flying over your house and reporters standing at your gate, finding out you’re living off of money your father made by ruining lives?”

A fresh wail escaped her lips, and she leaned over her lap again, shaking with the force of her sobs. I didn't like Merritt, had been tortured by her, but I couldn't stand the pain she was in. I went to her and put my arms around her shoulders. Even though she stiffened, she didn't push me away.

Comforting someone else made me feel more like me. Like if I couldn’t fix my own problems, at least I could help Merritt with hers.

The cat she’d been holding was now working its way around my legs, purring, and I picked it up. “Cats are great comfort animals,” I said. “Do you have one at home?”

“No, my parents would never allow it. We're gone too much.”

“I mean, that's kind of ideal for a cat. If you could hear the thoughts going through their minds.” I raised my eyebrows. “Whew.”

She laughed, and then glared at me. “Stop making me laugh. I'm sad.”

I managed to smile myself and sat on the ground next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Not really.” Then her eyes landed on the leashes in my hands. “We're supposed to be walking the dogs, aren't we?”

I nodded. “But I can go and take care of the first round if you need some more time to yourself.”

“No, it would be good for me to get some exercise. Maybe the endorphins will help.”

The idea of exercising with Merritt brought back a flood of memories, along with new pain. Carson had always protected me from their ridicule back then, but now? I was on my own.

I pushed myself up from the floor and continued toward the door. The soft tap of Merritt’s work shoes came behind me, blending with mine and the dogs’ footsteps. We walked out the door and into the warm summer morning.

“Where do you want to walk?” Merritt asked, her voice still raw.

“There’s a dog park not too far from here where we can go. These two should be pretty good with other animals.”

She nodded, and for a while we walked side by side along the sidewalk that led toward the dog park. The hot summer sun beat down on our backs, making sweat bead on my forehead and neck. Some of the saltwater slipped into my psoriasis scabs, and I cringed against the pain.

“What's up with you?” Merritt asked.

I shook my head. “Just hot.”

“Well maybe you shouldn't have worn a long-sleeve shirt,” she said with a sense of superiority that rubbed my frayed nerves entirely the wrong way.

I glared at her. Did she even know what she was saying?

“What?” she asked, raising her hands in defense.

“Well, I can't exactly wear short sleeves or tank tops around you.”

“Why not?” she popped off, and then realization crossed her face. “Oh.”

Her words sparked a fire ofanger within me. Not just at her but at this entire situation. Not only was I fat because I’d given up on sports, I’d been betrayed by her, a person I thought was my friend, just like Carson had betrayed me now, breaking up with me one day after promising me forever.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. “You know what, Merritt? You had the perfect life. You were petite and cute and your parents were rich and you had friends, and you still found a way to make me miserable. It wasn’t good enough to just enjoy your own life—you had to crush mine to make yourself look even better. And I’m the dumb one who let you do it.” I shoved through the dog park gate to let the dogs off their leashes. My hands shook I was so angry, but I finally got them unclipped, and they immediately ran to play with the other animals.

I sat on an open bench, trying to calm the rush of emotions in my mind. I’d lost everything back then, and it felt like I was going through it all over again, except worse. Because now I didn’t even have my best friend at my side.

Slowly, Merritt sat on the opposite end of the bench. “I'm sorry about that, Callie. It was wrong.”

I almost didn't believe what she said. I glanced over at her to see if she was joking, if there was a punchline coming, but Merritt had tears streaming down her cheeks. Still in disbelief, I said, “What?” I had to have misheard her.

“I'm sorry I hurt you, okay?” she cried. “I'm a mean girl. That's why Beckett broke up with me, that's why my friends will turn on me at the first chance they get, and that's why nothing I do is ever good enough for my parents.” She dropped her head in her hands and sobbed.

My mouth parted, and then I pressed my lips together. “I get not feeling good enough.”

“Can you stop being such a saint?” She stood and let out an exasperated groan. “Callie, I terrorized you for a skin condition you have no control over, and you’re still trying to empathize with me. Stop.” She folded her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “Maybe that’s why Carson left you! Because no one can ever measure up!”

Her words were a dagger through my heart, but she was so, so wrong.

“I am so far from perfect. Remember? I sprayed you with a hose!”

“I insulted your ex. I deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve that any more than I deserved to be picked on.” The words hurt, but it was the truth. Being kind was a choice, and we’d both made some bad ones. “It's not easy to be a good person. And sometimes you fail, and it eats at you.” I still didn’t know how to make sense of what Carson did. How I felt about it. But I was still guilty for my reaction. My best friend had come toward me for comfort, and I’d stepped away. “We all make mistakes.”

Even Carson. Especially me.