Dumplin - Julie Murphy Page 0,94

for being another reason for people to whisper about me. “I can’t. That might make me a coward, but . . .” The tears are more than a threat now.

He meets me where I am, and because of the downward tilt of the driveway, we are toe to toe, nose to nose. “Willowdean Opal Dickson, you are beautiful. Fuck anyone who’s ever made you feel anything less.” His chest heaves. “When I close my eyes, I see you. I can talk to you. In a way I never have with anyone else.”

Beautiful, he says. Fat, I think. But can’t I be both at the same time? I lift my hand to his cheek, and the tension bubbling beneath his skin eases. I kiss him once more on the lips. I linger there for a moment, remembering all the details of everything I shouldn’t be allowed to have. “I can’t,” I whisper, knowing that I’m talking about so much more than just me and Bo.

I turn around and pick up my bag.

He stands in the driveway until I switch my bedroom light off, turning my house into a dark shell.

FIFTY-THREE

On Monday, as I’m walking out of class, Mitch reaches for my elbow. Mr. Krispin has already run off for the teachers’ lounge, and everyone’s cleared out. It’s just us.

“I wanted to say that I don’t think I should be your escort for the pageant.”

I look up at him, but he only lets our eyes meet for a second before looking away. “I’m not doing the pageant anyway.” I hadn’t said it out loud until this very moment, but I made my decision on Saturday night, standing in my driveway with Bo.

I can see his thoughts moving across his features. Thoughts of him trying to convince me. Telling me about the bright side. But he says nothing.

“And I’m sorry,” I add much too late. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“But you like him?”

I nod.

“‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t make it better,” he says. “I would’ve been really good to you.”

“More than I deserve.”

I want to tell him how close he’d come, and that had I never met Bo, he’d be it. But I met Bo, and now I know what it feels like for one person’s name to wreck you.

He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walks out.

I give him a few seconds’ head start before I leave for my class on the other side of campus.

I take my time. I’d rather be late than out of breath. No one likes to see a fat girl huffing and puffing. The last bell rings and the halls clear.

And then Ellen slips out of the last classroom on the right.

At first, she doesn’t see me. She wipes her eyes. She’s crying. It could be about anything. But whatever it is, I don’t know about it.

She glances back and sees me trailing a few feet behind her. She stops, not bothering to wipe her face free of the tears streaming down her cheeks. Maybe she and Tim broke up. Maybe she got in a fight with her new friends. Maybe she failed a test. I don’t know. This is my moment to step up. To ask her how she’s doing, and apologize for everything.

But she turns and rushes into the bathroom. The moment is gone.

I don’t stay for any of my other classes. This day has already gone wrong in too many ways for me to risk sticking around. When I get home, there’s a text from Millie asking if we should all get together to practice our talents. The pageant. It doesn’t even matter anymore. When I entered, I did it for Lucy. And with Ellen by my side. But Lucy’s dead and Ellen is further away than ever.

I text Millie, Hannah, and Amanda:

ME: I can’t do the pageant. It’s short notice. I know. But I’m backing out. Y’all are going to be amazing. You deserve to be there. I’ll be cheering you on from the audience.

After calling into work sick for the night, I turn my phone off and decide to keep it that way for the entire evening.

FIFTY-FOUR

I spend Tuesday and Wednesday faking a fever and nursing a bag of mini chocolate chips I found in the pantry from a few holidays ago. We’re not the type of household that just has sweets on hand (surprise!), especially with my mom still on Operation Squeeze into Pageant Gown.

When I tell my mom I’m not feeling well, she closes my