Page 9 of A Game of Ruck
And nervous.
And possibly unraveling before my eyes.
I give her a second, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed.
“So, why me, exactly?”
Her jaw tightens.“Because you were up there.”
“Right.But so were like eight guys before me.And I’m pretty sure there’s like six left.”
“Fine, it’s because you look like you could bench press a yacht, so that’s bound to make Lisa, and the rest of my perfectly proportioned cousins, crap themselves with envy.And you’re a natural blond.They like blonds.”
“Lisa?”
“The bride.My first cousin.And the devil incarnate.”
Ah.
I nod, taking her in.
She’s standing with her arms crossed under her chest, which only pushes those curves up higher.
And she’s pissed.
Not at me, not really.
At herself maybe.
Or the situation.
And I get it.I’ve been there.
I tap my fingers on the wall behind me.
“Alright, let me guess.They think you won’t show up with a date.Or if you do, it’ll be a safe, non-threatening best friend type who can braid hair and fetch drinks.”
She throws up her hands.
“Yes!God, yes.They literally asked me if I’d be needing a ‘plus one’ or a ‘plus sympathy vote.’I mean, seriously, who says that?!Just because I’m fat?—”
Her voice cracks.
I don’t move.
Not yet.
I know this feeling.
That moment where the words come out too loud and too raw, and then you’re exposed.And embarrassed.And angry about being both.
“I’m just?—”
She waves a hand like she can erase what she said, but I need to hear her say this just so I can understand and maybe banish it from her mind.
“I’m just fat, okay?And I’m awkward with guys and, oh my God, I am so sorry I asked you to do this.I don’t know anything about sports.I never attend charity events.This whole thing is ridiculous!I should have stayed home with my edible cookie dough and my damn cat.I’m going to kill Daniela,” she snaps that last bit.
I exhale slowly and push off the wall.
