Heart Bones - Colleen Hoover Page 0,14
full of stuff. “Junk drawer, but the other three drawers are free.” She closes it and sits back down on the bed. “So? You like it?”
I nod.
“Good. I don’t know what kind of house you live in now, but I was hoping you didn’t have to downgrade.” She reaches to the nightstand beside the bed and grabs a remote control. “All the rooms have everything. Netflix, Hulu, Prime. You can just use our accounts, they’re all ready to go.”
She has no idea she’s saying this to a girl who has never even had a television. I haven’t moved or spoken since we walked into the room. She’s doing enough for the both of us, but I manage to mutter, “Thanks.”
“How long are you here for?” she asks.
“Not sure. The summer, maybe.”
“Oh, wow. Awesome.”
I press my lips together and nod. “Yep. Awesome.”
Sara doesn’t catch the sarcasm. She smiles, or maybe she’s still smiling. I’m not sure she ever stopped. “You can move, you know. Put your things down.”
I walk over to the dresser and set the plastic sack on top of it. I toss my backpack on the floor.
“Where’s the rest of your stuff?” she asks.
“The airport lost my luggage.”
“Oh, God,” she says, overly empathetic. “Let me get you some clothes until we can get to a store.” She hops off the bed and walks out of the room.
I can’t tell if the smile on her face is genuine. It has me even more on edge than before I met her. I’d trust her more if she were standoffish, or even a bitch.
It feels a little like the girls at my high school. I call them locker room girls. They’re nice on the court, in front of the coach. But in the locker room, it’s a different story.
I can’t tell if we’re on the court or in the locker room right now.
“What size are you?” she yells from across the hall.
I move to my doorway and can see her digging through a dresser in the other bedroom. “A two, I think? Maybe a four?”
I see her pause for a moment. She looks across the hall at me and nods tightly, like my answer disturbed her in some way.
Being as skinny as I am isn’t something I strive for. It’s been a constant battle trying to consume enough calories to maintain the energy I need for volleyball, while also not having as much access to food as most people. I’m hoping before the end of summer, I can put on some much-needed weight.
“Well, I’m not a four,” Sara says, walking back into my room. “Triple that, actually. But here are some shirts and two sundresses.” She hands me the stack of clothes. “I’m sure they’ll be baggy on you, but they’ll work until you get your stuff from the airline.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you diet?” she asks, looking me up and down. “Or have you always been this skinny?”
I can’t tell if that’s a backhanded remark. Maybe it’s because she has no idea why I’m as thin as I am, so it feels like an insult. I shake my head a little, needing this conversation to end. I want to shower and change and just be alone for a while. She hasn’t stopped talking since I met her.
She doesn’t leave. She walks over to the bed and sits down again, this time falling onto her side and resting her head on her hand. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” I walk the clothes to the closet.
“Oh, good. There’s a guy I think you’ll like. Samson. He lives next door.”
I want to tell her not to bother, that men are scum, but she probably hasn’t had the same types of interactions with guys that I have. Dakota wouldn’t offer a girl like Sara money. He’d just hit on her for free.
Sara hops off the bed again and walks across the room to the other wall of curtains. She pulls one open. “That’s Samson’s house right there,” she says, pointing out the window. “He’s super rich. His dad is in the oil business or something.” She presses her forehead to the glass. “Oh my God, come here.”
I walk over to where she’s standing and look out the window. Samson’s house is even bigger than the one we’re in. There’s one light on in his house, in the kitchen. Sara is pointing toward that part of his house. “Look. He’s got a girl in there.”
There’s a guy standing between the legs of some girl who is seated on his