Shuddering, I forced the image out of my mind. Shedding my t-shirt and shorts, I looked down at my belly. It jiggled when I walked – and my stretch marks looked like the craters on the moon. Hot shame flooded my body. There’s no way Alex would still want me if he could see me like this , I realized. No way in hell .
I opened the doors of my closet and peered inside. I didn’t really have any nice clothes. After my failed “date” with Dan, Rebecca had suggested a makeover…but I hadn’t exactly taken her suggestion to heart. I frowned as I pulled out a short purple dress that flared out from the bust. It didn’t exactly hide my belly, but it did make me look slightly more streamlined and less heavy. With a pair of Spanx underneath, I almost looked like a normal girl.
Rebecca was tapping her foot impatiently by the door when I emerged from her bedroom.
“You look nice,” Rebecca said. “Is that new?”
I wrinkled my nose. “You know darn well it’s not,” I said. “I’ve had this for years. You look nice, too, though.”
Rebecca nodded. “Thanks,” she said. She looked down at her outfit – white skinny jeans with an oversized t-shirt. “I feel so self-conscious in these pants. I can’t wear white without suddenly fearing I’m about to get my period!”
I laughed. “I know exactly what you mean,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Rebecca and I took the shuttle to campus, then caught a cab downtown. Rolling Hills wasn’t much – mostly, if people were looking for excitement, they just went into New York. But it was something, and the downtown had recently been revamped with a whole new line of fast-casual restaurants and stores with clothes that wouldn’t fit me in a million years.
Rebecca led the way into a little wine bar – Le Cirque – and I nervously followed behind, glancing around to see who was staring at the whale and her peti
te friend. To my pleasant surprise, we only attracted a few looks as we walked to the bar and sat down.
“I’ll have a glass of…” I trailed off, looking down. “Actually, do you just have beer?”
The bartender smiled and handed me a different list. After choosing a Belgian white, I settled into the barstool and turned to Rebecca.
“This is nice,” I admitted. “Maybe it was a good idea that we got out, you know, just for a little bit.”
Rebecca nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Looks like a lot of college kids don’t come in here.”
“Good,” I said. “I was worried that no matter where we went, we’d be swamped with frat boys.”
“God, what a horrible image,” Rebecca said. She made a face, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. I burst out laughing, blushing and covering my mouth with both hands.
“You know, I think you were right,” I said. “Truly. We should make this a regular thing.”
“Yeah, Wine Days,” Rebecca said, laughing. “It feels nice to be out of the house.”
“So…” I bit my lip as Alex’s face popped into my mind. “What did he want, anyway?”
“Who?”
“Your brother,” I said, careful not to say his name. “Why did he come over?”
“God, who knows, probably just to torture me,” Rebecca said. She shook her head and her expression turned bitter. “He always holds that card over my head – Mom and Dad paid for our security deposit, and he thinks that gives him rights to our apartment!”
I frowned.
“We should just find a way to pay them back,” Rebecca said. “That way, he’d have no reason whatsoever to come over.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, really? Does it bother you that much?”
“Doesn’t it bother you? Those gross men with their sense of entitlement,” Rebecca said, taking a long sip of her wine. “They just barge right in, eat our food, and kick their dirty feet up on my couch,” she said. “It’s disgusting.”
“Maybe he just wants to find a way to be closer,” I said cautiously. “I know you guys haven’t ever been close.”
“Yeah, it’s because he’s always been a pig,” Rebecca said. “If I had a dollar for all the times he cracked a joke about me being a lesbian, I’d have enough money to pay off my parents right now.”
I frowned. “That is rude,” I said. “But it’s just like kids teasing kids, you know? Like back in middle school, when everyone called each other a fag.”
“Well, it’s rude and I don’t like it,” Rebecca said. “Besides, it’s not true. I just don’t have time for a boyfriend.”