Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Four

Thirteen Years Old

Callie

The shouting was getting worse at night. Ever since Clary left for college across the country, things had seemed to fall apart more than ever. I left my window open to let the spring air in while I slept, but it also let in the hatred coming from next door.

It was well past ten, and there was crashing, shattering, banging, yelling, screaming. Each new sound made me flinch, and even though I should have been afraid for Carson’s mom, I worried most about him.

I got up from my bed and went to the window. We usually kept our blinds open—unless we were changing or something—so we could talk at night if we needed to.

I couldn’t see him, and his room was dark.

“Carson,” I whispered. “Carson.” I picked a Lego from the bag he had given me and threw it at his window. It sailed through the opening and into his room.

His face appeared in the window, a dark outline, but from the light in my room I could see the circles under his eyes. Haunted.

A scream sounded from downstairs in his house, and Carson closed his eyes, his body rigid. “I hate him.”

I wanted to take away all of Carson’s pain, to never see the defeated look on his face again. “Come over,” I whispered, desperate to help.

His eyes widened for a moment, then another crash sounded.

“How?” he finally asked.

“The back door,” I whispered. “I’ll shine a flashlight when it’s clear.”

He nodded. “I’ll be down.”

With a racing heart, I grabbed my flashlight from my desk drawer and tiptoed down the stairs. I could hear Dad’s snoring coming softly from their room, and heat stung my eyes. I was so lucky to have them, to not have to deal with the horror Carson did every single day.

I crept past the stairs to the next set of stairs that led to the walkout basement. The TV was on, but Joe wasn’t here. He must have forgotten to shut down his game console before going to bed.

Actually, the music on the pause screen could help us get to my room without being detected. Passing the TV, I walked to the sliding door and looked into the dark backyard. There weren’t any lights in the green belt, not that it would have helped me see Carson waiting outside our privacy fence.

“Callie?” Joe said.

I jerked, holding my flashlight to my chest. “I-I thought you went to bed.”

“Nah.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the open bathroom door where I could hear the toilet water running. “Pit stop.”

“Going upstairs soon?” I asked hopefully.

“As if.” He plopped onto the couch and put on his headset. “Yeah, I’m back. No, you’re going down, man.”

I turned my eyes toward the ceiling. This was risky. But Joe’s back was toward the sliding door. And if we were quiet, maybe he wouldn’t notice.

Joe looked at me suspiciously over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Um... just getting some fresh air.”

He lifted his eyebrows and pushed his headset back. “You’re meeting Carson, aren’t you?” he accused, making kissing sounds. “You are in love him!”

My cheeks flushed red.

“You are!” he hissed. “My, my, my, perfect little Callie is sneaking out?”

Overwhelmed with embarrassment and frustration, I shushed him. “Can you not hear his parents fighting?”

Joe’s smile immediately fell. “Is he in trouble?”

“He might be,” I said, my chest aching all over again. “I offered him to stay in my room until it blows over... unless you’re gonna snitch.”

To Joe, a breech in loyalty was the worst betrayal imaginable. He acted offended at my suggestion. “I’ll do one better. I’ll help you get him in.”

Now that surprised me. “Seriously? You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he said, shrugging. “Carson’s practically the brother I wish I had.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine. Just don’t mess it up.” I went to the door and flashed my light outside a couple of times. In the dim glow from the basement, I saw Carson’s body move quickly over the grass. He was getting stronger—quicker.

I slid the door open and looked back at Joe. He went back toward our parents’ room, with a promise to run interference if needed.

Carson’s eyes were frantic, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him as fast as I could toward the stairs. I flew up the steps, practically dragging him behind me. We rushed into my room, closing the door behind us and sliding down against the wood.

My chest heaved from the speed and the adrenaline, and when I looked over at Carson, his chest was doing the same.

He rolled his head over and looked at me, then offered his fist for a bump.

With a small smile, I tapped my knuckles to his. Then, I looked back at my closed window with the curtains drawn. Worry creased my brow. “Will your parents be upset if they find out you’re gone?”

He shook his head. “Sierra’s at her boyfriend’s almost every night, and Gemma practically lives at her friend’s house. And, well, Clary hasn’t come home from college since it started.” A rare look of deep sadness covered his face. Carson didn’t get sad—he got distracted, filling his time and thoughts with happier things. But now, he wore the ache of his parents’ fighting on his sleeve.

I leaned my head against his shoulder. “You’ve got me.”

His lips lifted at the corners. “This is my first boy-girl sleepover.”

“Please.” I stood and rolled my eyes. “You can have any patch of floor you’d like.” I walked to my closet and reached for the sleeping bag shoved way at the top.

“It’s pink,” he said.

“And princess,” I added, rolling it out to show Cinderella’s face. “It might be a little short, but...” I shrugged.

“It’s a quiet place to sleep,” he said. He nodded toward the window. “Can you hear them fighting at night?”

“Only when the window’s open,” I answered softly, turning off the light before going to sit on my bed.

He moved from the door, slipped off his shoes, and lay down in the sleeping bag. It only went to about halfway up his waist, so I tossed him a throw blanket too. He covered up with it and laid his head back on the pillow I gave him.

“Comfy,” he said.

I frowned. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

He put his arm under the pillow and lay on his side, facing me. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

My cheeks felt warm for the second time that night. “I’m not. I just love you...as a friend,” I felt the need to add.

“As a friend,” he repeated, closing his eyes.

I lay down too then, tucking myself under my blanket in my warm bed, where I could sleep every night without being woken by my parents’ screams.

“Hey, Callie?”

“Yeah?”

His eyes opened, green orbs right on mine. “What are you doing when you get out of here?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Where are you going—when you’re eighteen and you can leave?”

I honestly hadn’t thought about it. So I hedged. “Where are you going?”

“Stanford. I’m going to get on the swim team to pay for it.”

He said it with such surety, it took me aback. But his next words surprised me even more.

“Will you go with me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I answered with my heart before I did with my mind. Because I couldn’t imagine ever being more than a window away from Carson.

“Do you mind if I sleep?” he asked. “I haven’t been resting well.”

At that moment, I realized how deep the shadows had gotten underneath his eyes. He’d always hidden them so well with his smiles and jokes.

“Goodnight, Carson,” I breathed, and within minutes, he was asleep.

CARSON

I slept better on Callie’s floor than I had for weeks in my own bed. Until I heard her bedroom door creak open.

I jumped to my feet and watched in horror as her dad stood in the doorway, his eyes going from me to his daughter.

“What...” he asked, like he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Callie slowly rolled. Then, like she realized her dad was right there, she practically leapt out of bed, stammering unintelligible words.

“Mr. Copeland—” I began

“No, Carson,” Callie said, finding her voice, then stood to face her dad. “Carson’s parents were fighting last night, and I was worried about him. I said he could sleep on my floor. Please don’t be mad at him... Be mad at me.”

The tightness in my chest was back in full force. Callie had given me my first full night of rest in weeks, and she was trying to take the fall for me? It was so wrong, but it also made me feel cared for in a way I hadn’t been since staying at Grandma and Gramps’s for Christmas. It was like having a piece of them here.

Her dad’s frown deepened, and he did something so surprising, I almost couldn’t believe it was real. He pulled Callie to his chest, then extended his hand and looped me into the hug as well.

He was hugging me? Not beating me to a pulp? Was he ill?

When he was done squeezing us, he got to his knee and looked us both in the eyes. “Callie, you have the biggest heart, but you are not allowed to have boys in your room.”

She hung her head, tears already glistening in her eyes. “But Dad—”

“No,” he said. “Carson, if you ever need a place to stay, our guest room is yours, no questions asked.” He looked from me to Carson. “Is that understood?”

My eyes stung at the meaning in his words. I had a place to go. A place to stay. Somewhere safe. “Yes, sir.”

“Now,” Robert said with a smile. “Come downstairs for breakfast. Mom made waffles.”

As I followed them down the stairs, I thought maybe if Callie was only my friend for the rest of my life, it wouldn’t be so bad. At least she could be my family.