Curvy Girls Can't Date Cowboys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,4
of Ray.”
My heart sped. “Ray Sadler?”
“He’s in first hour with you,” Mr. Davis said.
Oh, I knew he was in first hour. It was like my body wouldn’t let me forget I had a hottie sitting down the row from me. But he’d also been borderline rude about my parents owning a health food store. What was that about?
“Maybe I could pair you for a group project,” Mr. Davis said. “You might be surprised about what he has to teach you.”
Teach me? “About videography?”
“About life.” He bent to grab a couple of equipment bags and started out the door.
I followed behind him, wondering what a cowboy would have to teach me or how my parents would feel about that.
After we finished putting away the camera gear, I went to my locker and grabbed my books and phone. I had a few new messages.
Jordan: Want to come to Waldo’s and celebrate the new semester?
My spirits lifted as I shut my locker and began walking down the hallway. I opened my messenger app to text my parents to see if I could. But some of the new messages were from them.
Dad: CONGRATS ON UCLA!
Dad: Come by the store after school. I have some new signs to hang up.
I sighed and texted back my friends.
Ginger: Can’t. Shift at the store and then time to start digging. Still waiting on that spoon.
Jordan: Bummer. We’ll grab one from the diner.
With a smile, I put my phone in my pocket and continued toward the doors to the parking lot. The sound of whistles and squeaking shoes hit my ears, and I glanced into the gym. The girls’ basketball team was working on drills at each end of the court. Cori practiced at the goal nearest me, defending another girl trying to make a basket.
Her opponent attempted a shot, and Cori jumped and easily batted it out of the air. Her teammates cheered for her, and I did too from the hallway. She caught sight of me, and her cheeks immediately flushed red. I ducked out of the doorway, not wanting to embarrass her more than I already had. But one of the Nash girls should be living her dreams, even if it wasn’t me.
Then again, maybe if I could get Dad on his own, I could convince him living at home didn’t make any sense. UCLA, and my life, were waiting.
Three
I pulled up to the store and parked on the far end of the parking lot like my parents always asked us to. They said if we had two feet and a beating heart, we could leave the space for our customers.
With my car in park, I grabbed my Ripe apron from the passenger seat and tied it on as I walked inside. There were at least a dozen shoppers mingling around the store, maybe more. Looked like the night was off to a good start. Hopefully that would put Dad in a good mood.
I walked into the store and saw Janet at the register. She was as much a staple to this store as the actual staples.
“Hi, Ging,” she said between customers.
“Hey.” I waved back. “Do you know where Dad is?”
She pointed over her shoulder. “Stocking HBA, I think.”
“Thanks.”
As I started toward the Health and Beauty Aids, I heard Janet say, “Thank you for shopping with us. The time is Ripe to live a healthy life!”
Shaking my head, I continued toward the rows of toiletries, finding Dad behind a cart full of supplements.
“Hey, kiddo.”
I picked up a bottle and turned it to read the label. It seemed like we carried pills to help with everything from crusty toenails to thinning hair. “What are these?”
“Helps regulate cycles,” Dad said, standing and breaking down the box. Once it was folded down, he set it aside and stretched out his arms. “I need to hug my college girl!”
My nose scrunched as I entered his hug, and his beard tickled my forehead. “Thanks, Dad.”
He patted my back. “After I get off shift, I’ll bring home some of that new vegan ice cream to celebrate. Whatever flavor you want.”
“Anything with chocolate,” I answered. Though, whether I’d be celebrating or drowning my sorrows, I’d soon discover.
“Come on,” he said, taking hold of the cart with empty boxes. “Let’s grab those signs.”
We walked to the stock room at the back of the store where Leroy, another employee, was sorting through boxes.
“Hey, Le,” I said.
“Ginger.” He stood and stretched his back. “Congrats on getting into that program! Your daddy’s awful proud.”