Curvy Girls Can't Date Quarterbacks - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,57

but fury still rippled through me. “Ask your wife,” I said, my voice clipped just thinking of how she embarrassed me in front of Beckett, no warning or anything.

“Mary, can you explain?” Dad said to Mom, switching from father to mediator in a fraction of a second.

Mom straightened but resumed her work on her salad. “You know the health initiative I’ve been telling you about?” She took a bite and chewed nonchalantly. “Headmaster Bradford approached me this morning to say it was good to begin today.”

“Congratulations,” Dad said, looking confused. “So, what’s the issue, Rory?”

I stared, openmouthed between the two of them. “You knew about this?” I asked him.

Usually, I was fine with Dad going along with Mom’s crazy schemes. Mostly because he kept my bank account stocked with spending money so I could splurge on actual food from time to time. And because he loved Mom so much. But this was just insane. Mom was his wife, but I was his daughter.

Dad nodded. “Mom told me they were giving the students healthier options at lunch, a new menu. I thought it was a great idea.” He clapped Aiden’s shoulder. “You don’t get to be a top runner in the state eating junk, that’s for sure.”

The pride I saw in his eyes stung. What was there about me that ever gave Dad that look? It was almost as bad as having your French fries replaced with carrot sticks for the entire school to see.

I looked between him and Mom. “Did she tell you about the part where the lunch ladies will take food off your plate and switch it for something else if your parents sign you up for the program?”

“What?” Dad asked, slipping from parent and husband to mediator again.

“Right in front of everyone.” I reached into my back pocket and tossed the crumpled orange sheet to him, glaring at Mom as he smoothed it and read the note.

Her face was resolutely on her food, her lips in a line.

Dad cleared his throat. “Kids, take your dinner to your rooms.”

My eyes widened, and I met Aiden’s and Casey’s surprised expressions across the table.

“What?” Aiden asked.

“To your rooms,” Dad said lightly, but I could feel the force in his voice. The kind he used to subdue liars on the bench.

I stood up, grabbing my salad, and walked to the stairs. Aiden and Casey stayed close on my tail as Mom and Dad’s low whispers sizzled behind us, fast and heated.

When we topped the stairs, Aiden put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. “What happened? What was that note?”

“Mom put me on a restricted menu at school without telling me.” My throat got tight, and I had to swallow before explaining. Because I had to explain. He clearly wasn’t on the new restricted meal plan. “They switched my food right in front of everyone, including Beckett.”

“No way.” His brows came together. “I can’t believe she did that. I’m so sorry, sis.”

Tears stung my eyes as the moment came to the forefront of my mind yet again. “It was humiliating. I can’t believe Beckett didn’t turn and run when he had the chance.”

Aiden shook his head. “If he was bothered by that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“I agree,” Casey said. “I love your mom, but she’s gotten way over the top since you were diagnosed.”

I agreed, even though nothing had changed since before I had the diagnosis. The only thing my mom could see about me was my size. She didn’t see the four letters that seemed to have taken over my life.

Dad’s voice boomed from downstairs before becoming hushed again. Our parents were arguing downstairs, because of me. They never argued. “I’m going to my studio,” I said to them. “Enjoy supper.”

“Hold on,” Aiden said. He went to his room and came back with a candy bar, which he handed to me. “From my stash.”

I barely managed a laugh. “Thanks, Aid.”

“Any time.”

I carried the candy bar and salad to my studio and sat on the soft carpet, surrounded by the painted version of all my hopes and dreams.

My eyes landed on the painting of the girls and me. Our impromptu club with so much joy between us. A tear dripped down my nose, and I wiped it away. This was stupid. I should just text them. I could ask them to be my friends. This didn’t need to end just because the bet was over.

Rory: Hey. Missed you guys at lunch.

Jordan: Thought you were too busy with Beckett to think