Curvy Girls Can’t Date Best Friends by Kelsie Stelting

Six

Fifteen Years Old

Callie

I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to stir up the confidence I needed to tell Carson I liked him. But it was hard with fresh acne and my parents’ scale telling me I’d gained fifty pounds since my last doctor’s visit. The one where he’d called me in and told me I had plaque psoriasis and gave me a laundry list of treatments to do.

In the last year, I’d gotten my period. My cheeks had gotten rounder. My stomach fuller. My chest bigger.

Mom said gaining weight was a normal part of puberty, but if I’d known my period would come with fifty pounds and acne, I would have said no thank you. On the other hand, puberty had worked so well for Carson. While I’d become plump, he’d filled out, gotten taller. His voice had deepened, and his face had lost the soft curves of youth.

He was attractive, and other people noticed it. Other girls. Me. I wanted to run my fingers over the hard edges of his jaw and kiss his lips until the world disappeared around us.

A knock sounded on the door. “Callie?” Carson called.

I jerked back, stumbling off the scale and nearly crashing to the ground.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, steadying myself and putting the scale back in the cabinet. Just daydreaming about your face. Hurriedly, I tamed stray hairs into place and double-checked my makeup. “Why are you in my parents’ room?”

“I used my key,” he said. “Are you the only one home?”

“I was,” I said and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Gross. I didn’t hear you wash your hands.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe that’s because I wasn’t actually using the bathroom.”

“Sure.” He didn’t believe me.

“What’s up?” I asked, not wanting to argue about poop. That was so not attractive. If telling Carson I liked him was going to have any chance at working, we needed to get off this topic.

“Thought you might want to hit the mall?” he said.

“Sure.” Actually, that could be the perfect place to bare my feelings to him. Our outing at the mall could turn into our first date before the day was over. My stomach fluttered and not just because I’d been craving the edible cookie dough from one of the stores there.

“You ready to go? Gemma said she’d drive us, but she needs to leave in ten.”

“Yeah. Let me grab my bag.” I tried to hide my nerves as he followed me up to my room. When I peaked the stairs, I asked, “How was football practice?”

“Being a sophomore on the team is better,” he said. “At least I’m not scared ninety-nine percent of the time.”

“Scared? You?” I teased.

He shook his head. “You know, the guys don’t outweigh me by fifty pounds now.”

I knew. I definitely knew. Every female at our school knew.

“Are you really not doing volleyball?” he asked. “You just missed a year. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick it back up.”

“No.” I brushed by him and started down the stairs. I so was not in the mood to have this conversation, again. Especially not now that I was fat and had psoriasis.

“But you love it,” he argued. “You shouldn’t give it up just because Merritt and her crew are jerks.”

At the bottom, I turned on him. “You didn’t have everyone in the school and half the town calling you ‘The Thing’ at a game. So yes, I loved volleyball, but I love not feeling like crap even more.”

The words scraped my throat as they came out, because part of me knew giving up meant that Merritt had won—that she had power over me. But I could find a new passion. Something else I loved just as much as volleyball that wouldn’t make me feel so bad.

Carson looked down at the stone entryway floor. “Okay,” he said softly.

“Okay?” I asked, my voice harsh in contrast to his.

He nodded and pulled me under his arm. “You know I’m here for you, Cal Pal.”

I shook my head and pushed away from him in an attempt at playfulness. “Good thing it’s not contagious.”

“No, but you got a little dandruff on my shirt.”

My heart froze, and I searched his navy-blue tee for a hint of flaking.

“I was just kidding!” he said.

I punched his arm and opened the front door to see Gemma sitting in her car, making out with her sleazy boyfriend.

“I hate him,” Carson said.

“Same,” I agreed and walked to her car.

As I opened the door, her boyfriend looked back at me and winked. I ignored him and buckled in. “Hey, Gemma.”

“Hey, girl,” she said with a grin. “Being a mall rat today?”

I shrugged. “I prefer mall mouse.”

She laughed. “Thanks for helping me hang up that picture yesterday, by the way.” She glared at her brother. “Since someone was too busy being a bigshot football player.”

Her boyfriend turned toward Carson now and raised his eyebrows, making his nose ring wobble. “You play football?”

Gemma rolled her eyes and put the car into gear. “I’ve only told you a thousand times.”

He smirked and turned forward. “Guess I was too busy looking at your mouth. I love your lips.” He leaned across the console and nipped at her ear, making her giggle.

Carson pretended to throw up. I felt exactly the same way.

“Stop it!” she said, “I’m trying to drive.”

“Driving me crazy,” the guy groaned.

When we reached the mall, we couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

“Remind me to never ride with Gemma again,” I said, watching her peel out. “I’d rather spend all my babysitting money on an Uber than watch Jake eat her throat at a red light.”

“His name’s John,” Carson said, tucking his thumbs in his pockets. “Jake was the last guy.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “They all look the same.”

“Like douche?” Carson said, starting toward the mall.

“Language,” I hissed, glancing around and realizing we were thankfully not within earshot of any children.

“That’s tame,” Carson argued and started through the rotating door to Emerson Shoppes. The stores opened up before us, and he asked, “What should we do first?”

“Cookie dough,” I said. A girl’s willpower could only take so much. Especially after a ride like that. Besides, what could be sweeter than telling him over dessert? If it went well, the cookie dough shop would always be our place. If it went poorly, I had comfort food at the ready. Win-win.

“That’s why I love you,” he said, tucking me under his arm. “You have the best ideas.”

“I mean, is cookie dough ever a bad idea?”

“Genius.” He pulled me to the side so we could dodge another couple walking by. Carson had been putting his arm around me since we were kids, but I noticed it more now. Felt it. Like the new muscles he had were electric charged.

“You get us seats, and I’ll order?” I suggested, just to get away from the brain-fogging charge.

“Sure,” he agreed.

I went to the counter and ordered a small chocolate chip for myself and the largest, most chocolatey thing on the menu for Carson. He was ridiculous that way—he didn’t like just a little of a good thing; he went all in.

I paid in cash, then turned, holding the two cups with tiny spoons, in search of my friend I hoped could be more. I didn’t see anyone sitting at a table by themselves in the expansive food court, but then I realized: Carson wasn’t sitting by himself.

A girl from school named Sarah was sitting with him. And she was laughing, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder.

And he was laughing too.

My stomach clenched in a confusing way, and I started toward them. Why would I be upset about another girl talking to Carson? Even if she was pretty? What did that matter? Girls tried to talk to Carson all the time now that he’d hit puberty. That didn’t mean I didn’t have a chance.

I steeled myself and walked to where they were sitting. The problem? They didn’t even realize I’d approached until I set the cookie dough down on the table.

Carson and Sarah jerked back like I’d snuck up on them, not like I’d walked across the room in broad daylight with something I’d told Carson was coming.

“Oh, hi, Callie,” Sarah said, looking disappointed.

Carson’s eyes widened at the chocolatey mess in front of him. “This looks amazing.”

Sarah smiled. “Maybe we should get some together sometime?”

This was quickly going from bad to worse. I was clenching the world’s tiniest spoon as I dreaded and prayed for his answer.

With a grin, Carson said, “Definitely. I’ll text you. Can I have your number?”

My legs swayed, and I fought to stay on my feet.

Sarah nodded and bit her lip before extending her hand for his phone. He swiped it open to a new message, and she entered his number, then handed it back to him. “See you around, Carson.” As if realizing I was there for the second time, she said, “Callie.”

My heart had stalled in my chest, and my joints worked about as well as steel as I sat down across from Carson and his dopey grin.

Everything in me wanted to run away and cry, but I stayed for my friend. Tried to be as happy for him as he clearly was for himself.

He looked up at me from his phone, his mouth full of chocolate, and pointed at my cookie dough. “Are you going to finish that?”

I shook my head and pushed it forward. For once, I wasn’t hungry.

CARSON

Sarah’s house was perfect. Not in the same way the Copelands’ house was. Callie’s house felt like home. Sarah’s house felt like there would be a realtor walking in at any moment to show a trendy couple all the cool features that could be theirs if they just wrote a check. It made me feel like maybe I didn’t belong here.

Sarah pulled me past the entryway to the living room, where her parents sat in front of a big-screen TV watching what looked like a home improvement show. An old white dude on the screen was making lame jokes while his wife smiled and shook her head.

“Mom, Dad,” Sarah said, squeezing my hand tightly. “This is my boyfriend, Carson.”

I loved how easy things were with Sarah. I’d never even asked her to be my girlfriend. She just assumed, and I rolled with it. Simple. Not like with Callie, where I could put my whole heart out there and have it ignored.

Her dad lowered his reading glasses to examine me, making them hang so low on his nose I worried they’d fall off. But her mom, she practically jumped from the couch and came to greet me. “This is Carson?” She sent her daughter a massive wink, and Sarah’s cheeks grew pink.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, extending my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And polite?” she said. “Swoon.”

Well, I had Callie’s dad to thank for that. I definitely hadn’t gotten any kindness from my father.

“Mom,” Sarah admonished.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Her mom brushed my shoulder. “He can take a little teasing. You know, Carson, we’ve been begging her to bring you over ever since that adorable first date you took her on.”

Now my cheeks were starting to feel hot. Taking Sarah to play mini golf had been Mom’s idea, but we’d actually had fun. You know, aside from the fact that I was too tall for those stupid clubs and Sarah couldn’t make a hole to save her life.

“Cute,” her dad said, still staring me down.

Honestly, it was hard not to laugh. He had no idea what I dealt with at home on a daily basis. I simply stuck my hand out to him and said, “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

He looked at my hand for a moment like he might not take it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little sweat beading up on my forehead. But finally, he grasped my hand. He must have liked my handshake because he pushed up his glasses and said, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Soo, we’re going up to my room,” Sarah said.

Her dad frowned, but her mom said, “Have fun!”

As we walked upstairs, I could hear her parents muttering back and forth. Part of me worried they’d start fighting because of me, and I didn’t want Sarah to go through that. I didn’t want anyone to go through that.

“We can stay downstairs,” I whispered to her.

“No way.” She tugged my hand, practically yanking me up to her room.

This space was just as perfect as the rest of her house. She stood near her frilly pink bed and tucked her hands into her tight jean pockets. “What do you think?”

I knew what I was supposed to say now. That I loved it. That it was perfect. That I was glad she had me over. With Sarah, things were easy. No guesswork when it came to how she felt or what she wanted me to say. I picked one of the phrases, and she grinned at me like I’d made her the happiest girl in the world.

Was it that easy?

“I can’t wait to see your room,” she said, walking to a mini fridge near her desk.

I swallowed. My room? No way would I have her over. My sisters would live and die to humiliate me in front of a girlfriend. And my dad? Sometimes he made creepy comments to my sisters’ friends when they came over. If he said something like that about Sarah or Callie, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, even if it was a losing fight.

“What?” she said, sounding hurt. “You don’t want me over?”

Now I knew what I needed to do next—comfort her. I stepped closer, taking the can of soda from her hand and setting it down. Then I wrapped my arms around her slim body and held her to my chest. She was short enough I could rest my chin against the top of her head and completely enclose her from the world. From her self-doubt.

Sarah may have been thin and on the cheerleading squad, but she seemed just as insecure about her looks as Callie. Couldn’t they both see they were beautiful, even if it was in different ways?

“I like you,” she said into my chest, and I just held on because here was everything I’d ever wanted Callie to say, and it was coming out of another girl’s mouth.

I needed to let go of something that was clearly never going to happen because my childish idea of what could have been was ruining the possibility of what was happening now. I might not have Callie, but I had Sarah, and feeling wanted was something I never wanted to give up.