Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Forty-Seven

Callie

According to Rory, Carson was no longer staying at Beckett’s place. He’d left and took all of his things. He wasn’t answering Beckett’s calls. When I was finally brave enough to dial his number myself, he didn’t answer me either.

I tried to think of all the places he could be staying, but each one came up empty. No one had seen or heard from Carson in a week. The more people I called, the more worried I felt until finally I called Gemma.

I leaned on my open window—letting Dad’s cold air out—and prayed for her to answer.

She picked up on the fourth ring, and I could hear the noise of a bustling city in the background. “Callie? I only have a few minutes.”

“I just need a second,” I rushed out. “Where’s Carson? I haven’t seen him all week, and I’m worried about him.”

The line was silent for a moment, and I heard Gemma whisper something to someone, but I couldn’t make out the words. “Callie?” she finally said.

“Yeah?” My stomach was tied in knots, waiting for her explanation.

“He’s okay. He’s at my grandparents’.”

The wave of relief her words sent over me had me backing up and collapsing into my bed. “Thank God he’s okay.”

“He is,” she said, a smile in her voice. “Or, at least, he will be.”

I wanted to ask her what that meant, but she told me she had to go and hurried off the phone. I lay back in my bed, holding my phone to my chest and thinking about my next move. Carson’s grandparents lived in Texas, which wasn’t as simple as driving across town to find him.

Checking the GPS on my phone, it told me the drive was eleven hours from here. If I got in my car and drove, I could be there by Sunday afternoon. But I wasn’t sure how my parents would feel about that. They’d been pretty lenient this last year, but I also had never asked them to make a cross-country road trip.

If Carson wasn’t answering my calls and wouldn’t come back to Emerson, I might have no choice other than to track him down on the Stanford campus. That would mean waiting an entire month before seeing him again, and who knew how much could change for him in that time.

Feeling defeated, I dialed my friends on our group video chat, and their faces filled the squares on the screen. I told them about my call with Gemma. “He’s eleven hours away, and there’s not a chance my parents will be cool with me just picking up and driving there. Not to mention I have work.” I rubbed my face with my free hand. “What do I do?”

Rory was the first to speak. “Let me call Beckett, and then I’ll text you guys. Maybe he can get in touch with Carson.”

We hung up and I stared and stared at my phone, willing her to tell me that it was a huge misunderstanding. That Carson was in town and would walk through the door any time now, but so far, that didn’t seem to be happening.

Finally, my phone chimed with a new message alert, and I tapped into the text at hyper speed.

Rory: Beckett’s trying to find a way to get in touch with Carson. Let’s meet at the mall and brainstorm? I’m dying for some cookie dough.

Zara: I’ll be there in 30.

Jordan: Same.

Ginger: Getting my keys now. :)

Callie: I love you guys. See you soon.

A flurry of hopeful butterflies kicked up in my stomach as I drove to the mall. I’d seen my friends overcome an entire school’s judgement, break down class barriers, change long-standing beliefs, and shake down cultural norms. If anyone could help make this happen, it was my friends. I had to have faith that Carson would see the real me underneath my fear and insecurities. That he would let me see and love the real him.

I pulled into an empty spot near the mall entrance and began walking inside. None of my friends’ cars were in the parking lot, but maybe one was behind the massive RV that had taken up at least five spots.

I couldn’t help smiling as I walked into the mall and got closer to the cookie shop. We were going to figure this out. We had to.

I scanned the seats for my friends, but didn’t see them, much less hear their characteristic laughter. Sliding my purse down my arm, I found a table that would fit all of us and sat down.

Getting out my phone, I swiped it open and went to my photos. There were so many pictures of Carson and me. Even when I didn’t know it, we were writing our love story.

“Callie Copeland?” My name sounded over the speaker they used to call orders. The only problem? I hadn’t bought anything.

I looked toward the stand, my eyebrows drawn together, and the guy at the mic repeated, “Callie Copeland.”

Picking up my purse, I slid out of my seat and walked to the counter. When I reached the guy, I said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t ordered anything yet.”

“We have something for you,” he replied.

I tilted my head to the side, confused, until I watched my best friend walk out of their kitchen.