Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting
Forty-Three
Callie
Joe sent me the address of the coffee shop in Brentwood, and I plugged it into my phone’s GPS. The girls and I each rode separately, but knowing they were coming with me made me feel better.
We met in front of the coffee shop, Espress Yourself, and Ginger chuckled. “Nice one.”
I half-smiled before opening the door. It felt weird not having Carson here. He and I did everything together, and I was coming to learn how much I depended on him. How much I truly enjoyed having him around. The thought of going to college and living on the same campus as strangers...it made it hard to breathe.
“Let’s get some drinks, then scope the crowd,” Zara said as if sensing my unease. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
Shoving aside the thoughts, for self-preservation more than anything else, I walked alongside my friends through the crowd of people. Even though it was warm outside and the space was packed, the air conditioning in here was ice cold. Probably part of their strategy to keep college kids from hogging the tables all day.
As we waited for the barista to make our drinks, I looked around, wondering where my brother was.
“Hot chocolate and a mocha?” the barista called.
Zara and I thanked her and took our drinks, telling the other three we’d grab seats for everyone. We parted from them, walking the perimeter of the room. Finally, we found my brother sitting with a couple of his friends. And there were still a few empty seats at their table. When he saw me, Joe lifted his chin and said, “Hey,” then did a doubletake. “Are you wearing makeup?”
My cheeks flushed hot. That had been Zara’s idea. “Do you mind if we sit here?”
He shook his head. “I saved it for you.” He lifted his chin toward my friend. “Hi, Zara.”
She smiled back and said hello before offering to grab a couple extra chairs. When the rest of us had adjusted to make room, I realized we had the perfect setup. The way these chairs were angled, we would be able to see the stage when Nick was performing.
Callie, Ginger, and Rory sat down, and with my brother here, I felt a little more whole.
The person with the microphone began introducing the poetry night with the theme of missed opportunities.
This had been a bad idea.
Why had I come to a place bursting with emotions when I could hardly contain my own? I clapped along with everyone else, but made my own personal exit plan as he began talking about the poets and how each of them had five minutes to perform an original piece of work.
I leaned over to Joe first, saying, “I need to use the bathroom.” With all the people in here, I could slip out without being noticed and send my friends a massively apologetic text.
“Wait,” Joe said. “Nick should be up soon.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable for other reasons than the lame excuse I’d given him. “Okay, just until he’s done.”
The first poet came on, and she waved her hands about as she delivered a short and enthusiastic poem about sunshine and how you didn't appreciate it the right way until it was dark outside. It was cute—a little cliché—but cute. Beside me, Joe snorted.
I hit his arm. “Don't make fun of her.”
Pressing his lips together to repress a smile, he shook his head. “Wait until you hear Nick’s.”
The way he said it made me feel like there was something I wasn’t getting. “What do you mean? Have you heard it already?”
Joe’s lips formed a half-smile. “I have, because he wrote it for you.”
My mouth fell open, and my stomach bottomed out like it had jumped out of an airplane. Nick had written a poem for me? He’d asked Joe about it? I was so confused and curious and in awe. Did this mean...
Nick walked onto the stage to a smattering of applause. Today, he wore dark-wash jeans and a white tunic shirt that clung to his narrow frame. Logically, I knew he looked handsome, soulful. But I couldn’t help comparing him to Carson. Thinking about how well Carson filled out a pair of jeans or how the smooth muscles of his arms would look holding up the paper.
Nick glanced at me, a soft smile on his lips, and began reading. “This poem is called ‘Fade.’
Zara took my hand. “Is he doing what I think he’s doing?”
I couldn’t speak because I was too busy listening to the next lines of the poem.
Something’s right in front of you,
It’s just as plain as day,
but when you see it so often,
it tends to fade away.
No amount of beauty nor grace
could ever take her place,
and no type of replacement
could hold regret at bay.
I’ve watched her close up,
never seeing more than from afar,
and now my heart must stay inside
a tightly sealed up jar.
I wonder if I’ve missed my chance or if
she’ll stop and see
that the guy she really should be with
is here and that it’s me.
Cheers erupted around me, and for a moment, I was disoriented. I blinked, trying to focus on Nick. He tilted his head toward the door and then disappeared behind the stage curtains.
Joe leaned over and said, “He’ll wait for you on the patio—if you want to go.” His tone was gentle, and I realized this was his way of helping me and his best friend, but my heart felt like stone inside my chest.
I turned toward my friends, my eyes wide. Their expressions were a melting pot of shock and sympathy.
“Wow,” Zara said, squeezing my hands. “This is huge...right? It’s what you’ve been wanting all summer?”
My heart twisted at her words. “Yeah, it is.” But was it still what I wanted? I would love be in a relationship that didn’t result in the kind of pain I’d felt for the last week. “But is it too soon?” I looked at my friends. “I have to see him, right?”
Rory smiled sadly. “You don’t have to do anything, Callie.”
As I realized they were doing, I nodded. They wanted to give me the space to make my own decisions. The mark of a true friend. And I was lucky enough to have four. I smiled at my friends and left my seat.
Mechanically, I walked toward the double doors at the back of the shop. Through the windows, I could see Nick leaning against the railing around the deck, looking out over the parking lot.
Slowly, I crossed the weathered wood and stood next to him. Beyond the parking lot, other shops lining downtown Brentwood. It was a cute area, and my first thought was that I wanted to show Carson. Reeling from the pain that thought created, I said, “That was a nice poem.”
He lifted a corner of his lips and turned his dark eyes on mine. “I had hoped you’d think so.”
“Why now?” I asked. After months of pining for him from afar, I had to know. Why had my heart had to get caught up in this mess for him to notice me?
“Because it was better than tomorrow,” Nick said. “If the last month’s taught me anything, it’s that I need to make a move while I still can.”
My eyes felt hot, and I blinked back the tears.
Oblivious, Nick slipped his fingers through mine. His hands were smaller than Carson’s. Softer. “Watching him hold your hand made me realize how much I wanted to do the same thing.” With his free hand, he tucked a curl behind my ear. “It should have been me holding your hand. Kissing your lips.” His gaze went from my eyes to my mouth, and I completely froze.
Time seemed to slow and move in years instead of seconds as he closed the gap between us and put his wet lips on mine. I wanted to like it, begged my body to give in to the kiss and forget the boy next door. Forget my best friend, but I couldn’t.
Tears streamed from my eyes and a sob escaped my lips. I pulled back from Nick’s concerned face. “I’m sorry,” I said and left Nick and any leftover hopes of a relationship with him behind.
