Curvy Girls Can't Date Cowboys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,42
But then again, my dad had practically dragged me away from him. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“Does it have anything to do with Ray?” she asked in a small voice.
“No,” I answered immediately. Because even if it did, I didn’t want to like Ray. We couldn’t work as a couple. Maybe in a vacuum, but not in real life where I’d be going to UCLA soon and he’d be working on his ranch with cattle that didn’t take vacations on the weekends. But why did that thought have a knot forming in my stomach? “I don’t know,” I finally said.
I waited for her answer, but all I heard were soft snores coming from her side of the room. Just like Cori, I needed to put my thoughts of him to bed.
Twenty-Seven
When we reached the parking lot in the morning, Cori and I parted ways as usual. She caught up with one of her friends while I walked more slowly, taking in the dark skies overhead. It didn’t snow often in our part of California, but maybe it would this year. Even though I hated the cold, I wouldn’t mind seeing the white flakes falling from the sky.
A sophomore named Dugan came up on my right and said, “Hey, Grant.”
“What?” Grant guffawed on my left.
I stopped, already spotting a joke and wanting no part on it.
“You know why Ginger has red hair?” Dugan asked, stopping right beside me.
“I don’t know,” the other egged him on. “Why?”
“She has ginger-vitis.”
I rolled my eyes toward the sky. “Seriously? That’s the best your peanut brain could come up with? Go to school. You clearly need it.”
Dugan frowned. “So you’re not going to be answering any of our questions then?” When I didn’t speak, he said, “Like do the carpets—”
“Do not say what I think you’re going to say,” Ray cut in, stepping between me and Dugan. He shot Grant a glare so harsh, it could have singed ash.
Grant stepped toward his friend, who had to look up at Ray to meet his eyes.
“What’re you gonna do about it, redneck?” Dugan demanded, clearly outmatched. He should have run away while he had a chance.
“Something I don’t want to repeat with a lady present,” Ray said evenly. “Now, if I were you, I’d get.”
Dugan glanced over to Grant, probably trying to decide if they could take on Ray in the school parking lot. I could hardly breathe from the cold, the tension, or a combination of both.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dugan said, patting Grant’s shoulder. “Looks like cowboy wants to find out the answer for himself.”
I gave them a disgusted look, but Ray stared them down until their backs were to us and they were a good distance away.
Then he turned to me, bending down to meet my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. They’re just jerks who got bored with their own lives.” I glanced at the pavement and continued walking. Wasting time worrying about bullies wasn’t a part of my agenda.
Ray’s long legs easily strode alongside mine. “Why do you act like you don’t care?”
“I don’t,” I ground out.
“But why?” he pressed.
I stopped then and stared at him. Why did he need to worry about this? He may have been a ‘ship, but he could clearly stand his ground. He didn’t need protection, and he certainly didn’t need to worry about protecting me. “What do you want me to say? That I hate being picked on? That I worry about what they’ll say or what they’d do if we weren’t in public? That it sucks to be singled out because of my size and my hair? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t, but what would complaining about it do?”
“Give you someone to talk to so you’re not bottling it all in?” His eyes were hailstorms full of feeling, but how could I lean into that without unleashing a flood of my own?
I blinked back tears and said, “I can handle it on my own.”
“You don’t have to anymore.”
I raised my eyebrows, truly surprised. “And why is that?”
Ray tugged his backpack over his shoulder. “Because I’m going to walk you inside from now on.” He turned and started toward the school again, then glanced back. “You coming?”
All I could do was nod.
At Rory’s locker, he parted ways with me, but all my friends watched him walk away.
Zara’s eyebrows were sky high. “What was that about?”
“Apparently I have a personal bodyguard,” I said. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure,” Callie said. “Maybe over milkshakes at Waldo’s?”