Curvy Girls Can't Date Quarterbacks - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,24
said this skirt was supposed to be worn high on my waist. And Jordan said it would bring out my curves, in a good way.
“Are you almost done?” Zara called.
I swallowed. “Yeah.” Gently taking the items off the hangers, I pulled them on and stared in the mirror.
Holy crap. It fit.
And not only did it fit, but it looked good.
I did a small spin, watching the pleats fan out around me. The way the shirt cinched around my middle made me look like I had an hourglass instead of an apple shape. How could a simple outfit bring out curves I didn’t even know I had?
I pushed open the door, and Ginger wolf-whistled.
I covered my face with my loosely curled hair and then looked back. “It’s good, right?”
Jordan put her hand on my arm. “If this doesn’t do it for him, he’s gay.”
I laughed. Then decided to believe her. I would start being that girl—the one who was confident in her body and her look. I wanted to go out in public and not feel like people were judging me for my size, but seeing me as a whole person.
Once we were all ready (and looking amazing, thanks to a raid through Zara’s closet and Jordan’s work with the makeup), we got in Zara’s car and began driving. Jordan gave us directions, and when we got there, fires already crackled on the sand, sparking blue and purple and orange. People milled about, carrying red cups full of what I assumed wasn’t soda.
“How are people already here?” I asked no one in particular.
“Carson’s here,” Callie said, light from her phone screen illuminating her face. “And he says Beckett’s here too.”
Jittery excitement danced deep in my stomach. Tonight was my night to prove Merritt (and myself) wrong.
“And Merritt?” Ginger asked.
“Hold on.” Callie fired off a text, then, “Yep.”
“Boo,” Jordan said.
I agreed. How was I supposed to spend any time with Beckett with Merritt hanging all over him? Even though they were allegedly broken up, she stuck around him like he’d invented Spanx himself.
“Remember our strategies?” Zara asked.
We’d gone over the plan so many times that day it rolled off my lips in an emotionless tone. “Be nearby. If that fails, we’ll start planned activities. Spin the Bottle, Truth or Dare, anything to get him engaged in organized conversation.”
“Good,” Zara said. “But remember we can—”
“Distract Merritt,” I finished.
She looked at me in the rearview mirror, a smile on her face. “You’re ready.”
I wasn’t. But I was as close as I was going to get.
We got out of the car, and the smells of burning driftwood and salty air immediately washed over me. I breathed it in, the electricity in the air telling me this was a night I was going to remember.
We walked over the patchy grass together, and as we reached the sand, I mentally thanked myself for wearing strappy sandals instead of flip flops. These would stay on my feet all night and not get lost in the sand.
“Let’s get a drink,” Jordan said. She led us toward a keg that didn’t have a line and grabbed one of the red cups stacked half our height.
I nudged Zara’s arm. “Looks like Zach went all out.”
She rolled her eyes and poured amber liquid into my cup. “Just drink.”
I’d never drank before. Was now the time to start? I held the cup in my hand and examined it as the other girls got their drinks. Having a cup of beer didn’t mean I needed to consume it, but it did mean I wouldn’t stand out any more than I already did.
A loud giggle sounded from behind us, and I turned to see Merritt with her hand on Beckett’s shoulder. “You are so funny.”
I turned to Ginger and pretended to gag myself. She laughed. But I wasn’t feeling as humorous anymore.
We had to get Merritt away from him. No way would he choose me with us standing side-by-side.
A few strums of a guitar sounded. One of the football guys had brought it and was running his fingers over the strings in a soft melody.
Ginger nudged my shoulder and looked at him with me. “Hello, Cowboy.”
I grinned at her. “You should go talk to him.”
“No way,” she said. “Curvy girls don’t date cowboys.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Her smile turned wry. “For the same reason they don’t date quarterbacks.”
I shook my head. “So, if I date Beckett, you’ll go for it?”