Page 32 of Santa Loves Curvy Girls

Friend.

The word stung.

Was that what I was to him?

And he’d said “in real life.” Did that mean this was all a game to him? Because it had been more than real to me.

My face felt hot and tears threatened to fill my eyes, but I swallowed and pushed them back.

No way was I going to cry in this moment.

Showing him just how much this all meant to me when it was all fun and games to him would be a thousand times worse than my Christmas wish never coming true.

“I should go,” I said, making my voice sound normal. I began to skate toward the exit.

“Okay,” he said, following me. “Let me walk you home.”

I turned toward him and forced a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”

As I made my way home, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Christmas wishes like the one I’d made just didn’t come true for girls like me.

I walked past Cocoa Corner, realizing that even a cup of hot cocoa wouldn’t help me feel better.

19

NICK

Ihated the way Belle and I left things at the skating rink.

I stood at the railing, devastated, watching as she took off her skates and went home.

After walking to the bench and taking off my own skates, I texted her.

Santa: I’m sorry. Please let me know when you make it home.

No response.

Slowly, I pulled my boots on and left the rink. It was supposed to be a magical night, the night I told her who I really was, but now I didn’t know if I’d be able to come back here without thinking of her and the sad look in her eyes.

The guy working closed up the skating rink behind me, giving me a silent wave as I walked out and the lights on the sign flickered off.

As I made my way home, my phone buzzed. My heart leapt as I fumbled through my pocket to check it.

Belle: Home.

That’s all her message said.

She had to be mad at me, and understandably so. Maybe she thought I was embarrassed by her or just wanted to fool around with a winter fling. But it wasn’t like that at all. I’d been so close to telling her the truth. So close, before realizing I couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t my secret to tell.

I got home, trudged to my room, and locked the door behind me.

“Nick, is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen.

I took off the thick red jacket. I had to swallow back the emotion in my throat before replying, “Yeah, Mom! Just need a quick shower!”

“Okay, dinner’ll be ready in a few!” she called back.

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