by RH Tucker
So, New Year’s Day, we talked about it. I told her it wouldn’t be easy. That I’d need time, and I did, but that I did want to try again with her. I’m a dumbass.
“It’s not a mistake, Lana,” I say, bluntly.
“But it is.”
“No. It’s not.” She’s still crying. “You’re not drunk. You’re not high. You’re just being yourself.”
“No, that’s not it.” She wraps her arms around me. “Please, please you have to—”
“I don’t have to do shit.” She recoils from the words, looking at me like I just slapped her. “You did this. You can’t blame this on anything or anyone but yourself.” I reach up, prying her hands away from my neck. “It’s over.”
She doesn’t chase me this time.
Chapter 2
Veronica
“There he is,” Cindy whispers to me.
I turn around and see Micah Fernandez at the end of the hall. He knows who I am. Last semester we had an art class together. He’s incredibly talented. And incredibly gorgeous. And, unfortunately, incredibly taken. His girlfriend is model material. No joke. I’m five-two, and she towers over me. Blonde hair that sparkles, the complete opposite of my ebony curls.
“Cindy, stop,” I hiss at her.
“What?” She flips her hair, taking a bite of another chip.
We are sitting in the café on campus, where we usually eat lunch together. I finish off my burger and take a sip of my soda. Over the summer last year, I started a diet and ended up losing about twenty pounds. But since then, I haven’t stayed as strict as when I started. I really should start going back to the gym again, if for no other reason than because Micah works there. We’ve said hi and bye, but he doesn’t know I’ve had a crush on him since last summer.
“V, he may be taken, but there’s no harm in checking out the goods,” Cindy whispers across the table.
Before I can reply, I hear his voice from where he stands in line at the counter.
“No, and stop calling me.” His low grumble catches both of our attention. “I don’t give a shit. No, you said that before. Look, I don’t want to block your number, but I will if I have to. I don’t care, Lana, and you’re not sorry. No. Whatever, I don’t care. Stop calling.”
Cindy clears her throat, loudly, apparently trying to get his attention or at least to let him know we can hear him. My eyes widen.
‘What are you doing?’ my face says.
‘Oh, please. You know as well as I do what that call was about,’ is her responding smirk.
“Oh, sorry about that.” Micah steps out of line, over to our table.
“It’s okay,” Cindy says a little too bubbly.
Looking up at him, I see that he looks both angry and broken. “Everything okay?”
Shaking his head, he lets out a huff, averting his gaze. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
Cindy gives me the eye, so I know what she’s thinking; I should make a move. I haven’t gone out on many dates since college started, much to her irritation. It’s not like I don’t want to go out on dates with cute guys, but … my weight is always in the back of my mind. I guess that happens when your last boyfriend cheats on you and says you guys never had sex because he hasn’t been with a ‘big girl.’ I never thought I was that big before he said it.
“You ready for your finals next week?” Cindy asks him.
“Yeah, pretty much,” he answers but looks around. He doesn’t seem nervous, but his body language is telling me he’s on edge. “Hey, I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Okay.” I give a slight wave as he walks over to the counter to order something.
Cindy reaches over and grabs my hand. “He’s single!”
“Shh!” I scowl at her. “Give him a break, Cin. That didn’t sound too great.”
“Who cares?”
“I care. I might like him, but I’m not interested in being some kind of rebound.”
“Fine, fine.” She goes about scrolling through her phone.
It’s true, I don’t want to be a rebound for Micah, assuming he’s looking for something like that. But there’s a reason I’ve gone out on precisely three dates in the last year. There’s also a reason that of those three dates, there was only one second date of the trio. And nothing ever escalated past a make out session. It’s the same reason that even though I’ve liked Micah for a while, I’ve never tried to start a conversation with him when passing by him on campus or the few times I’ve seen him when he’s working at the gym. That reason? I still don’t want to be rejected because of my weight.
It’s been over a year, but my ex-boyfriend’s words are like a cloud that continuously hangs over me. Cindy and our other friend, Izzy, told me for weeks after we broke up that Tim is a jackass. That he’s selfish and a prick and superficial. And those are all true. It doesn’t change the fact that I know I’m overweight. I’ve struggled with it since I was little.
I should’ve never let the words sink in like they have. When Tim said them, I’d just caught him in his car, some girl face down in his lap. The girl freaked out and jumped out of his car, but he just sat there like it was nothing. I wanted to both run away and strangle him. It was over a year ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Veronica?” He casually zipped up his pants as he stepped out of his car.
“Me? Are you kidding me? What the hell, Tim?”
“Come on, V. You can’t be that surprised.”
I scoffed. “I can’t believe this.”
I knew I was going to break up with him, but I was still stunned. I just stood there, waiting to hear what kind of excuse he would come up with.
“Look, I am sorry,” he spoke before me. “I should’ve ended this a while ago. You’re nice, V. Cute. And you’ve got a pretty face. It’s just, I’ve never really been with a big girl, you know? It’s kind of … weird.”
I slapped him across the face. “Wow, you dickhead. So it’s weird to have sex with a big girl, but you’ll let her go down on you.”
He grabbed his reddening cheek. “Seriously?”
“Go to hell!”
After the anger subsided, the pain set in. My friends assured me he was and is an asshole, but the things I feared growing up were already thrown in my face.
Cindy taps my hand. “You okay?”
“Huh?” I stare aimlessly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“There he goes,” she whispers.
I barely turn my head, glancing over my shoulder. “Cindy, it’s not gonna happen.”
“Yes, it is. I’m gonna make sure of it. I’m still in charge of Project V, remember?”
“You’re insane, you know that?”
She flashes a smile so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. “I know. But you love me anyway.”
“Don’t remind me,” I say, giggling.
Chapter 3
Micah
A loud moan echoes through the apartment. I glance over at my alarm clock. Eight-fifteen. Taylor certainly likes morning sex. Don’t get me wrong, I do, too—even though I haven’t had nearly as much as him—it just sucks his bedroom is next to mine, and our walls are paper-thin.
With class in an hour, I decide to get out of bed and shower. By the time I finish and head out to our kitchen, his bedroom door cracks open. Janice walks out, sex hair and all, and flashes me an embarrassed expression. I knew he was seeing her. He asked me if it was cool. Of course it was cool with me because I only had one date with her last semester before I ended up getting back together with Lana. Ugh, Lana.
It’s been over a week, and the anger has finally worn off. I didn’t think I would, but I’ve reverted back to my mopey phase. I’m still not torn up about it. It happened once before, so what the hell was I expecting? Nevertheless, it stings to know she did it again.
“Hey, Micah.” Janice gives me a bashful wave. “Sorry. It’s just … you never called.”
“It’s cool.”
We stand in silence for a mom
ent, her in front of his door, me in front of the kitchen entrance.
“So, um …” she mutters, looking around.
“Yeah, good seeing you.”
“Yeah.”
I head into the kitchen and hear the front door open and close. Grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl, Taylor strolls into the kitchen.
“What’s up, man?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge.
“Not much. You sounded like you were having a good time.”
Closing the refrigerator door, he takes a bite of cold pizza. “I always have a good time. You know this.”
I have to laugh because I do know this. Taylor and I have been friends for the last couple years since he transferred to my high school our senior year. We hung out a few times here and there, but it wasn’t until I broke up with Lana—the first time—that we really started to click.
For some reason, he took it upon himself to be a friend I could turn to. The first month, he hauled me to the gym. “Endorphins are good, bro,” he’d tell me. He isn’t wrong. As much as I hated going to the gym to lift weights or do CrossFit, I couldn’t deny I felt better after. We usually hit the gym a few times a week now. It helps that we work there.
When we graduated he decided he wanted to get an apartment instead of living at home, and he convinced me to live with him. He already worked part-time at the gym and got me a job. That, combined with our scholarship and financial aid, covers our rent and necessities. The apartment is on the smaller end for a two-bedroom, we have to share a bathroom, and like I said, paper-thin walls. But it’s nice to have our own place, not living at home.
“So, Janice is cool.”
He takes another bite of his pizza. “She is cool,” he replies with a shrug. “She knows my situation though.”
“No commitments.”
He points a finger at me. “Exactly. You’re the commitment man around here.”
“Don’t remind me.” Moving him out of the way, I grab the milk from the fridge.
“She’s a bitch, Micah.”
I turn and stare at him.
He raises his hands in defense, before taking the final bite of his pizza crust. “Sorry. Too soon?”
Returning my attention to my cereal, I pour the milk and put the carton back in the fridge.
“You know what you need?”
“Oh no, I remember this spiel.”
He laughs. “Yeah, but last time we were still in high school. And we didn’t have our own place.”
“Taylor, I don’t need anything. I’m not a wreck like last time. You’re right,” I take a deep breath before biting into a spoonful of Cocoa Puffs, “she is a bitch.”
“That had to feel good, bro.” He chuckles. “Anyway, don’t think about it like this is for you. This is for us.”
“What’s for us?”
“Start of the summer party.”
“Come on, seriously?”
“Yes! It’ll be just what the doctor ordered, Micah.”
“I don’t know,” I say, taking in another spoonful of cereal.
“It’s either a party after finals, or we continue to do two-a-days. I can’t stand this mopey shit you got going on.”
“Dick,” I reply with a chuckle. In addition to our regular workouts, since I broke up with Lana again, Taylor’s been forcing me to work out a second time. Usually at midnight, since the gym is open twenty-four hours, or we’ll hit the weights again on days we both work.
“So?” He raises an eyebrow.
I let out a groan. “Fine, whatever.”
“Awesome. Invite whoever you want. Preferably chicks.”
“Of course.” I scoop up some more cereal. “Who knows, maybe I’ll find Mrs. Right.”
Taylor lets out a laugh, opening the fridge back up and grabbing an energy drink. “Mrs. Right? Micah, I’m not trying to find you Mrs. Right. I’m just looking for a Ms. Right Now for you.” He cracks open the can, taking a drink.
I laugh. “I think you cornered the market on those.”
“Two more!” Taylor yells.
We’ve been at the gym for a couple of hours. I grip the bar sitting across my shoulders, squatting low, hamstrings burning. My shoulders stiffen, as I grunt to stand back up straight.
“One more!”
The sweat beads off my face. I never thought I’d be a gym guy. I exercised here and there, but nothing measured or regular. The first time Taylor brought me to the gym, I fought him tooth and nail. I’d just broken up with Lana, and the last thing I wanted to do was workout. I struggled through it, but by the time it ended, I could feel the endorphins kicking in and got hooked. Especially on days I need to blow off steam.
The steel bar clanks as I set it against the rack.
“Shit, Micah. Max weight today. Not bad.”
Collapsing to the mat, I throw an arm over my face. “Thanks.”
Sitting next to me, he throws me a towel. “I’m gonna have to step my game up.”
“Right.” I wipe my face. “You’ve still got me beat by twenty pounds.”
“Well, you keep pushing yourself at this pace, I’ll have to do the same.”
Weight training with Taylor has become an outlet. Therapy. He’s the only person who knows what really went down between Lana and me the first time. Well, other than the guy I caught her cheating on me with. I let out a loud sigh, the memories surfacing.
“Micah, you need to forget that bitch, and you know I’m right. What she pulled? That’s some bullshit. You gonna call Olivia?”
I shake my head. Before we got to the gym, he texted me this girl’s number, telling me he put in a good word for me.
“Micah, come on. I’m trying to help you out here.”
“Dude, I can’t just screw her out of my system. I’m not you.” He lets out a scoff, and I glance over at him to see an insulted expression. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Whatever. I don’t even care because this isn’t about me. Hey, what about that Veronica chick you told me about last semester?”
“I said she was in my art class. That’s it.”
“I’ve seen her around campus with her friend, Cindy. She’d be perfect.”
“It’s not gonna happen. It’s been two weeks, calm down.”
Veronica is cute. I met her last year, briefly during a bonfire. We talked a little in our art class, but not much. Since it was before Lana and I got back together, it did cross my mind to maybe ask her out. I’d gone out with a couple girls, but I didn’t want to do anything serious.
Getting back to my feet, I’m about to head to a new rack of weights when someone catches the corner of my eye. Matt Hillard.
I have nothing against Matt personally. He’s a nice guy. But I’ve resented him for over a year. It calmed down a bit when Lana and I got back together, but now that we’re done again, and the fact that I caught her again, the memories come back. He didn’t play a personal part in that situation per se, but it all happened around him. So seeing him just sparks the fire of annoyance and hurt again.
“Hey, I’m gonna hit the lockers.”
“What? We didn’t do calves yet.” Taylor gets to his feet, blocking me.
“Yeah, but I got a paper to finish—”
“Hey, what’s up guys?” Matt calls out.
Taylor knows him better than I do, playing football and basketball with him during high school. He also knows the truth of why I get so frustrated by just the sight of him.
“Hey,” I say and abruptly walk past him.
I know it comes off as cold and it looks like I’m being a jerk to him. Two of my best friends from high school, Emma and Jen, have told me that. But I can’t help it.
“What the?” I hear him say behind me, but I keep walking to the lockers.
“What are you doing here?” Taylor asks, and by the sound of it he’s following behind.
“I usually hit up Gold’s Gym, but my dad’s firm was giving out guest passes. Hey, Micah?” I don’t turn around. “Micah?”
> “What?” I call back without looking, walking into the locker room.
“What the hell, man? What’s your problem?”
“Matt, come on,” Taylor says, and I turn toward a set of lockers, seeing him try to usher Matt back.
“No, this is bullshit,” Matt’s voice gets louder. “Micah, you’ve acted like a douche to me ever since high school. I want to know what the hell I did because I’ve tried to be nothing but nice to you.”
“Man, get out of my face.” I curl a lip, putting in the code on my lock.
“No, I want to know. You’ve treated me like dirt for over a year.”
“Matt, come on, bro.” Taylor puts a hand on his chest. “Just leave him alone.”
“No. Micah, what the hell is your problem?”
“Matt—”
“You’re my problem, okay!” I cut off Taylor, stepping to Matt. The memories from the party start rushing back.
“Why? What’d I ever do to you?”
“Everything! You did everything, you asshole! You and that damn party.”
Confusion masks his face. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to know why I can’t stand to be around you, Matt? It’s not because I hate you, because truth be told, I actually thought we could’ve been friends. You seemed like a cool guy in school. The reason I can’t stand to look at you has nothing to do with you personally, and everything to do with that damn party you threw.”
“Micah, just drop it, man. It’s not worth it,” Taylor interjects, but I’m already worked up.
Maybe I should’ve told Matt about this a long time ago, but I didn’t. I’m saying it now though. If he wants to know why I can’t stand him, he can finally have the truth.
“No.” I point at Taylor, who raises his hands in submission. Looking back at Matt, I see he’s giving me a smug grin, waiting on what I’m sure he thinks is a flimsy excuse. “Your whole basketball team was at that party. Emma and Carter had just got together. I was actually having a good time. You had your backyard set up, people were in the jacuzzi. Mr. Class President was throwing one of the best senior parties of the year.”
