Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,26

something comfortable.

“Oh, my gawwwwwd!” sang Beth in her sweet voice, jumping up from the couch when she saw me. Of all the roommates to be at the crash pad today, I kind of wished it wasn’t her.

“Hey,” I said, rolling my bag to the long hall. The apartments in these old brownstones were narrow, but long with high ceilings. This particular one was perfect for our situation because it had a makeshift closet along the hall—shelving on top with wooden bars beneath for us to hang all of our uniforms. It would have been an eyesore to others, but it was a blessing to us. I got to my small section and bent to open a plastic drawer and pull out leggings and an oversized sweatshirt.

“So?” Beth leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. She had that impish look of delight in her eyes. I had a feeling the dating app had been her idea.

I felt self-conscious changing in front of her, although I didn’t feel that way about the other girls. Beth was beyond tiny. Like, five feet tall and eight-five pounds, tiny. She had freckles and a pointy chin with huge brown eyes, pouty lips, and a precious nose. Oh, and boobs. Her brown hair flipped upward where it met her shoulders. She could be a pixie.

Here’s the thing about pixies. Remember Tink in the Peter Pan cartoon? Super cute, right? Remember when she tried to kill Wendy Lady because she was jealous? Beth was Tink. The first time I went out with Beth was during flight attendant training in Houston. It was me, Beth, Holly, and Cheryl. Our other four roommates had finished the training session before ours. Anyway, we were all broke. You don’t get paid for training. You get a per diem check. Our hope was that men would buy drinks for us. I know, I know, so trashy, but alas. I remember standing at the end of the bar with Beth, both of us laughing about something, and then she’d taken my arms and repositioned me a little, saying, “Don’t move.”

I’d been like, “Huh?” At first, I thought she was trying to hide from someone, but when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw her reach into the bartender’s tip jar and pull out a handful of bills.

When she rushed away, laughing and elated, I’d chased her, horrified.

“What are you doing, Beth? Put that back!”

I still remembered how the smile fell from her face as she turned angry.

“Would you fucking relax? There’s so much money in there. They’ll never notice.”

“That’s not the point! Have you ever been a server? They earned that.”

Beth had rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. Don’t drink tonight, then.”

And I hadn’t. I’d searched all over for Holly and Cheryl but couldn’t find them. So, I’d left the bar by myself and walked five blocks back to the hotel. Holly and Cheryl had not been happy, but it turned out they were smoking up around the side of the building with two hot guys, so they couldn’t even yell at me.

We’d since forgiven and moved on—I could never stay mad long—but I’d been wary of Beth since.

I changed quickly, glancing up to see her eyes on my body while my pants were stripped off, a pleasant smile on her beautiful face. Here’s the thing. I loved myself. I really did. But I also knew I didn’t have the type of body society thought of as beautiful. I wasn’t quite plus size, but I was pear-shaped. I’ve never had a thigh gap and never would. Lately there had been a big-booty trend, thank God, but not everyone was on board. I knew when Beth looked at me she saw the few dimples on my legs and felt bad for me, regardless of how much I tried to own it and not care.

“Have you started talking to any guys yet?” she asked.

“Um, one.”

“Ooh, show me! I’ve dated nearly all the guys in a twenty-mile radius, or at least talked to them, so I can let you know who the pros are.” She waggled her eyebrows in delight as I tried not to cringe. She lightly backhanded my arm. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re all private and shit, but it’s time to live a little. Come on!” She took my hand and dragged me into the living room, plopping us both down on the secondhand squeaky couch.

I really shouldn’t have been such a pushover, but I did kind of