Curvy Girls Can't Date Cowboys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,2
least use a shovel.”
Jordan had a small frown on her face, and guilt immediately struck me. She’d be living with her mom and commuting to UCLA, too, not because she didn’t want to live on campus, but because she couldn’t. They didn’t have enough money for her to live in the dorms. I opened my mouth to apologize to her, but the bell rang.
Rory, Zara, and Callie gave me apologetic looks and said goodbye before starting to class.
Jordan and I began walking toward first hour videography. With everyone crowding the hallway, I practically had to walk behind her.
“I’m sorry,” I said, just loud enough for her to hear me. “I shouldn’t have complained so much about not being able to live on campus.”
“Don’t be,” Jordan said, turning and walking sideways. “I totally get it. I know it’s not the same with my mom as it is with your parents. But there's a lot of time between now and August. Maybe they'll loosen up a bit. We could even carpool.”
“That would be awesome.” Leave it to Jordan to find the bright side when I couldn’t see through my disappointment. I shook my head and twisted so I could pass by someone in the halls. Curvy girl problem? Always taking up more space than everyone else. “But really, I shouldn't have been so selfish and made it sound like living at home was a terrible thing. I was just really hoping to get out of the house for once.”
She held her books to her chest. “I know, but it's going to work out. You’ll see.”
I appreciated her faith in me, but I couldn’t help thinking I would be missing out, both for me and my career. What’s the point in filming people living their lives if I never had the freedom to experience my own?
The halls thinned a bit, and I stepped beside her again. Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “How was your first Christmas with Kai?”
An easy smile formed on her lips. “Amazing—speaking of Kai...”
Jordan’s boyfriend approached us, grinning brightly. “Hey, babe, Ginger,” he added as an afterthought.
Jordan beamed back at him just as sappily, and I gave them a salute. “See you in class, Jord.”
They were already tucked against the wall, looking every bit the perfect couple they were. I couldn't help but feel like I was missing out on life and love and adventure. I wanted to experience things, find something worth filming. Instead, all I knew was Emerson Academy, home, and a grocery store carefully curated by my parents.
I reached my typical spot in front of one of the Apple computers lined around the room and set my bag in Jordan's chair to save it for her.
The room seemed to charge, and I glanced over to see Ray Sadler walking in. My heart beat faster, even though we'd hardly said a word to each other since he started at the Academy our freshman year.
Although our school uniform required formal wear, he looked like he had stepped off the farm with his swagger and confidence. Not to mention the scar over his right eyebrow and tan from working outside. He looked every bit as fit as an athlete, and a part of me recognized all the hard work he must have done to earn those muscles.
He sat easily in his seat down the row from me.
“Hey,” I said. What did I have to lose? My freedom? That was gone. My pride? What pride?
His lips carved a smile on his chiseled face, which was way more delicious than my breakfast. “Hey, Ginger.”
My heart stalled, sputtered to a stop, not only because he knew my name but because of the incredible way it rolled off his lips. Realizing he was waiting for a reply, I said, “How was New Year's?”
“Good.” He shrugged. “Didn't see you at Merritt’s party.”
My heart lifted. He noticed I’d been gone? “Did you get out the guitar?” I remembered him playing at a party on the beach a while back. The skilled way he’d run his hands over the strings still had my breath kicking up a notch.
“Of course,” he said. “I don’t go anywhere without Betsy.”
“Betsy?”
“My guitar.”
A smile came easily. “You named it?”
“Of course. You don’t name your video camera?”
“Oh, it has a name.” I bluffed.
“What is it?”
Crap. “Um, Cannon.”
The soundwaves of his laugher rolled through my chest, and I realized I had made him laugh. Made him smile.
“Rain check?” he asked. “Maybe I can take you out to dinner and play for you.”