Curve Ball: A Curvy Girl Romance by C.L. Cruz

Author:C.L. Cruz [Cruz, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Lucy

What do I wish?

I wish that I wasn’t so certain about how this will end, with me in tears and with him far away, following dreams that have nothing to do with me.

By the time Monday morning rolls around, I’ve done nothing but think about Rhett Hartigan all weekend. While I’m usually happy to be myself for a couple days, this time, I felt the sharp sting of loneliness. Maybe that’s why, when Zoey called me early Monday morning and asked me to meet her and Channa for coffee at Koffee Karma, I jumped at the chance for human interaction.

I should have known it was an ambush.

“So,” Zoey says, blowing on her coffee through the hole in the lid. “Tell us about him.”

We’re sitting outside at one of the small, colorful tables lining the sidewalk. Usually, these tables are swarming with customers, but this early, we had our pick.

I take a sip of my caramel macchiato and pick at the chocolate croissant we bought to share. “Who?”

Channa rolls her eyes, stirring the hot tea that she says soothes her throat before she has to go sing all day. “Who do you think? Unless there’s more than one.”

Sighing, I sit back. “He’s an old friend.”

“An old friend that kisses you on the baseball field?”

Jesus. I wasn’t kidding when I said that the teacher gossip wheel is a finely oiled machine. There’s no fighting it now that it’s in motion. “And in tree houses.”

Channa shrieks. “A tree house?”

“We were eighteen.”

“Oh my God,” Zoey chimes in. “A high school sweetheart.”

“Not exactly,” I hedge. “He’s my best friend’s brother.”

Channa and Zoey exchange a look. “Even better,” they say in unison.

“What? Why?”

Channa hums happily. “We didn’t know you had a risqué streak, girl.”

“I don’t.”

Zoey smacks my shoulder. “You may hide it well, but it’s in there.”

“So, what’s next? Are you guys official?” Channa asks.

“Officially what?”

“Dating.”

I shake my head. “No, no. Nothing like that. Come on, it’s not like he’s going to stick around.”

“Why not?”

“Because he never does,” I say with a shrug.

Channa leans forward, one eyebrow raised. “He’s here now, though, isn’t he?”

Sure, but for how long? Until a better opportunity comes along. It’s not like I expect him to choose me over anything else, and why would I? He never has before.

We get to school at seven, a little later than my usual arrival time. A few cars are already in the parking lot when I pull in and park. My classroom is on the east wing, so I don’t have to go through the main hall to get there. Instead, I go through a side door, turn right, and my door is the last one on the right.

I’m almost there when I hear voices. Usually, in spite of offering study hours in the morning, I’m completely alone, at least this early in the year.

“That can’t be right,” says a guy’s voice.

“It’s the fried chicken rule,” says someone else in a deep baritone that sends familiar zings of excitement into my lady parts.

“The what?”

“Everyone gets a piece of fried chicken before anyone can get seconds.

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