I TEXTED ZARA, and she had the security company unlock the gate. When I reached the end of their long drive, I parked up front and walked to the front door.
A woman dressed in a black and white pajama set opened the door and smiled at me. “Hi, sweetie. Zara’s upstairs.”
I smiled at her, confused, and then continued toward the stairs. I knew Zara’s mom had passed away several years ago, but she’d never mentioned a stepmother.
I stepped up the minimalist stairs and knocked on the door to Zara’s room.
“Come in,” she called.
I pushed the door open and saw her lying on her stomach with all her homework spread in front of her. “Hey, your stepmom let me in.”
Zara laughed. “That’s Beth.” “Beth?”
“She used to be my nanny, but now she basically makes our house function.” Zara shoved her books aside and sat cross-legged. “How’d it go?”
“Beckett almost kissed me.” My mouth barely formed the words, like it knew how close it had gotten to pure bliss.
“No. Freaking. Way.” She shoved all her books farther to the side, clearing a space for me. “Tell me everything. No. Wait.” She got her phone out before I’d even made it to the open space on her bed and had the other girls on a video call in two seconds flat.
Their faces appeared on the screen, and Jordan said, “Dish! Dish!
Dish!”
Ginger nodded enthusiastically. “Tell us everything.”
“Yes!” Callie agreed, then her corner of the screen panned over Carson. “He wants to know too.”
My cheeks heated slightly. “Promise you won’t tell Beckett I said anything?”
Knowing the question was directed at him, Carson said, “Cross my heart.”
I took a deep breath. “Beckett and I almost kissed.”
Various squeals and gasps sounded through Zara’s phone. “Almost?” Jordan shrieked.
“What happened!” Ginger cried. “Details! I need details!”
With my cheeks still warm, I told them how Beckett had asked me those questions and how we’d been inches apart when his phone interrupted us.
Callie squealed. “Beckett Langley totally wanted to kiss you.”
The sound of Ginger’s inhaler came as she held it to her mouth. “Holy crap.”
Jordan grinned. “You’re totally going to have him in love with you before the homecoming game.”
“Definitely,” Zara nodded.
“What’s next?” Carson asked. “Did he ask you out?”
“He had to leave, so we didn’t make any plans.” My stomach sank. This hadn’t been a one-time thing, had it? “What if he comes to his senses before tomorrow and I never get another chance?”
“Guys don’t just forget that easily,” Carson said. “He wasn’t drunk, was he?”
I shook my head. “We didn’t have any alcohol.”
“See?” Callie said. “It was all him. Carson will get some intel for us tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry.”
That was easier said than done. “I’ll try.”
We promised to meet for lunch the next day and ended the call. It was already late, and we had school the next day. If my mom saw me walking into school like a zombie and risking my weight loss, that would be that. Full-blown distraction-free lockdown.
Zara showed me where the guest room was, and I told her goodnight before setting my things on the bed. My birth control pills tumbled out of
my open purse, and I picked up the thin blue sleeve with the pill case poking out. It stared back at me, mocking me. Taking it felt like an admission of failure, like somehow admitting I couldn’t lose the weight and make things better on my own. Never mind that my body had betrayed me without my permission.
I slid the packet out and popped out a white pill from the third row, holding it in my fingers for a moment. The tiny sphere held enough power to change my hormones and start my cycle. My acne was already noticeably better, even though I’d only been on it for such a short time.
I slid the pills back in the case and padded to the bathroom for a shower, trying to think of this almost-kiss instead of the pills, even though the two narratives seemed determined to be at odds. As I sampled the fancy travel- sized shampoos and conditioners in the shower, I thought maybe it wasn’t a one or the other proposition like Merritt made it out to be. Be fat or be desirable.
Could I be both?
Beckett had almost kissed me—me. He’d gotten close, seen the acne my makeup hadn’t been able to hide. Seen the extra fat that hung from my chin and the creases on my neck from the extra pounds, and he’d gotten closer. That had to mean something.
I turned off the shower and dried off, slipping pajamas over the parts of me everyone said I should hide. When I picked up my phone, there was one new chat waiting.
Beckett: Good night, Cupcake.
