the couch and talks to the ceiling. “She told me she was going to go over some menus and stuff with me tonight. She’s making me see a health specialist. But Daniel pulled up and surprised her with a date. She shoved me outside, and I guess she forgot to leave the door unlocked when she left.”
She sighs, tilting her head forward. Tears are forming at the outer corners of her eyes. “I didn’t tell you because it’s embarrassing. It just confirms what I’ve been trying to ignore.”
“Which is what?”
“That I’m not good enough for anyone. I’m too… big to have someone like me the way you say you do.”
The tears finally spill over, and she quickly swipes them away. I scoot closer to her again, takin’ it all in. All the pieces comin’ together about why she looks at herself the way she does. I had no idea it was so bad. ‘Cause she never told me.
“On Monday, I had my first appointment with the health specialist. She told my mom I needed more exercise, you know, the same old crap they all say. Well, my mom thought it would be good for me to walk home. So she took me to where you picked me up, and left me there. Said if I didn’t get home within an hour, I wouldn’t get dinner.” She chuckles, but it sounds off. “It’s like I’m five.”
I shake my head. “That’s messed up.” I know I should say somethin’ better than that, but she laughs and swipes another tear from her face.
“So, I called you because, well, you saw that place! It was freaking scary! And who cares if I got dinner that night? It was probably a glass of water and a broccoli floret.”
She’s laughin’ now, but still cryin’. I know I’m pushing my boundaries when I clasp her wrist and guide her onto my chest. She goes, but hesitantly.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with this crap.” So eloquent, Brody. “For the record, I don’t think you need to see a health specialist. I don’t think you need to change anythin’ about you. You’re…you’re perfect.”
She traces the design on my shirt, not sayin’ anythin’.
“And… uh…” I gulp. “Thanks.”
She looks up at me. “For what?”
“Trustin’ me enough to tell me all of that.”
Her face goes back into my armpit. “Can I ask you a silly question?”
I let out a breathless chuckle. “Sure.”
“You don’t mind touching me?”
Man, I want to touch her more. “That is a silly question,” I say, squeezing her. “I feel like I’m tryin’ to grope you every time we’re together.”
We laugh together, her head jiggling around on my stomach.
“Why would you think I minded?”
“Well, ‘cause I’m probably, uh, squishier than most girls.”
Darn girl.
“You know, whenever you let me touch you, even when it’s just like this, laying on my chest, you make me feel like I’ve won some sort of prize. You need to stop bein’ so self-conscious, Hayles. I love touchin’ you.”
She shrugs out of my grasp, and I get real confused for a second, ‘cause I thought I nailed that one. Then she leaps on top of me, straddling me and hugging me around my neck.
Holy hell, this is happenin’! I knew I nailed it!
I wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her closer to me. We’re both laughin’, and I’m not sure why. Her laugh just makes me laugh.
We sit there for a while, talkin’ and she keeps herself planted on my lap. My legs are fallin’ asleep, and I’m not all that comfortable, but who cares? She asks where my parents are, and I tell her the embarrassing display I was witness to. She laughs and tells me she likes my parents already. Like she’s plannin’ on meetin’ them someday. Someday soon. I like that. Makes things between us seem more real. She’s startin’ to get it.
The dryer buzzes, and that’s when I stumble off the couch to get her clothes. I’m stompin’ my feet a little harder than I normally do to get rid of the pins and needles in my legs.
I hand Hayley her clothes, and she hesitates. “Can I change in your room?” Her face is bloodshot.
“Sure.” She can today, since it’s clean. I lead her downstairs, then give her privacy after she makes fun of the swimsuit calendar I have on the wall. I’m puttin’ the mugs in the sink when she comes back upstairs.
“I should probably head back home.” She smiles, but it doesn’t go up to her eyes.