Curvy Girls Can't Date Quarterbacks - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,53
sure we could find a Cupcake-qualified song.”
The way he said his nickname for me made me melt, but I rolled my eyes. “Hell would freeze over before you got me on that stage, hot pants.”
He chuckled as a fast-paced song began playing. “Let’s dance.”
It wasn’t a question. My hand was in his, and he was leading us to the dance floor.
“I really can’t dance!” I protested over the music.
“Nonsense.” He swayed to the song, taking my hands. He brushed up against me, close, closer, until our faces were inches apart. “You’re a natural.”
My insides melted—completely fell apart at his words. “Yeah?”
“Definitely.” His nose brushed against mine, and I felt his breath on my skin better than I heard his words.
We danced, moved, swayed to the music until it faded and left us, toe to toe on the dance floor. The heady rush of his scent, of the music and the lights and the reality of his proximity to me—it had me floating outside of my body like I was watching some other curvy girl living every second of her wildest daydream.
That was until a voice ripped me painfully back into my body.
Merritt and the same guy from the football team who’d made fun of me my first time watching the football team practice were on the stage, singing every line of “Fat Bottom Girls.” But they had a twist. One that included replacing lyrics with mine and Beckett’s names.
As everyone around us caught on to the fact that it was Beckett and me as the butt of Merritt’s joke, they began laughing. Pointing.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and the room swayed. “Get me out of here,” I begged.
“Rory,” Beckett said, making me meet his eyes. “I’m taking care of this. Wait here.”
He didn’t need to ask though. My legs were frozen beneath me as I was forced to listen to every second of Merritt’s public humiliation of me.
Why was she doing this? In front of everyone? I didn’t understand. What had I ever done to her? To anyone?
Hands reached my shoulders, my arms, and I jerked my head around to see who it was. Jordan, Zara, Ginger, and Callie were here. Jordan had a hold of my hand and was already pulling me toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here!” she yelled.
The singing stopped, even though the background music continued playing and the lyrics still flashed over the screen.
“Wait!” Beckett yelled. I turned to see him silhouetted by the blue screen and white words.
Jordan froze too. It was like everyone in the room had to listen to Beckett. Or at least, I did. I stared at him, wishing for him to say something. To do something that would make the burning shame go away.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he said to Merritt and Vance, who still stood on the stage. “You’ll never be half the person Rory is.”
Vance snorted and yelled, “I’d need a lot more cake for that. Am I right?”
Beckett shoved him, and feedback squealed through the mic.
Vance pushed him back, and soon they were wrestling on the stage floor.
Tears stung my eyes as I watched them. They were fighting over me. If this was what Beckett got just from dancing with me at a club one night, what would happen when we went public at homecoming? Beckett deserved better than that. And I should have known better. The only safe place for me was to fade into the background, where I belonged.
I turned and ran out of the club. The others followed me, and we broke out of the door into the cool night air. It made the wetness on my cheeks burn even more. My breathing had become gasps, somewhere between a choked breath and a sob.
“That was insane!” Ginger cried.
Callie’s face was contorted with anger I’d never seen there before. “Merritt had no right to humiliate you like that!”
Zara’s eyes were wide. “Did you see Beckett tackle Vance?”
Ginger nodded. “He totally defended your honor.”
“He shouldn’t have to defend my honor!” I yelled, my voice echoing off brick walls. “He should be out, dancing, having fun, not tormented for being seen with someone like me. I told you. Merritt told me.” I gestured at my clothes. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it—”
“Stop it right there.” Beckett’s voice rang through the night air. Ignoring the other girls’ shocked expressions, he stepped right up to me, face to face. “Don’t you ever talk about yourself like that.” His voice was hard—angry like the