Curvy Girls Can't Date Bad Boys - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,2

that too.

I squared my shoulders and walked into school. A few people greeted me on the way in, and I smiled and nodded at them. I’d always gotten my fair share of attention for being a movie producer’s daughter, but my relationship with Ryde had ensured I never walked inside without several positive—and sometimes negative—greetings.

“Zara, you look tired,” Merritt said, surrounded by her cronies, Tinsley and Poppy, as usual. They wore their cheerleading uniforms today, even though there weren’t any games. Maybe a competition?

I flashed her a wide smile, if only because I knew it would annoy her. “Stayed up late ‘talking’ to my boyfriend last night.”

Her face flashed disgust before rearranging into another perfect smile. “So my brother stopped mourning the fact that he could do a million times better?”

I didn’t miss the possessive way she said my brother. She didn’t know I’d happily return him, given the choice. The coercion of the arrangement was being kept private to help protect our image, even from Merritt. Still, I answered with a smile. “We had an amazing breakfast this morning.”

Tinsley frowned. “Why’d he take a selfie if you were with him?”

Of course she’d already seen his Instagram post.

“Because he’s embarrassed of her,” Merritt said. “Obviously.”

A flood of anger rushed through me at just how close to the truth she was, but I composed myself and winked. “Or maybe he just wants to keep me all to himself.” With a little wave, I left their stunned expressions behind me and continued toward my locker farther down the hall.

Ray and Ginger were already there. Ginger leaned back against the locker, looking up at him as he rested his forearm on the navy metal over her head, saying something to her with his lips in a loving smile.

“Ugh,” I said with a teasing grin. “Can you two take your cuteness somewhere else?”

Ginger’s cheeks flushed red, and Ray smiled. “One of us better make it to video class on time,” he teased, extending his hand for her books.

Ginger rolled her eyes before handing them over.

“See you soon,” he said.

“Not soon enough.” She smiled after him as he started toward the first-hour class they took together.

I turned the combination to my locker. “What’s it feel like to be that in love?”

Ginger opened her mouth, but my friend Rory answered as she approached us. “Amazing, wonderful, fantastic—”

“I get it,” I laughed, pulling my books from my locker.

Jordan and Callie walked up to us next, and finally our group was complete. I’d missed the Curvy Girl Club so much, even if we’d only been apart a week. “How are you guys doing?” I asked. “How was spring break?”

Callie grinned and stuck out her arm. “I got a tan in Cancun. Can you see?”

I stared at her white skin. “Um...yeah?” I turned to Jordan. “And the business trip in Brazil?”

A dreamy look crossed her face. “Amazing. I never thought I’d get out of California, much less the United States.”

“That’s awesome,” I said. She deserved to see the world. “How’d it go with the production company?”

“They want to dub my mom’s videos in Portuguese and play them on a local station!” Her grin couldn’t have been wider. Turning to Ginger, she said, “Thanks for helping get her YouTube channel off the ground. It’s changed our lives.”

Ginger’s cheeks warmed. “It’s no problem. Really. What about you, Zara?” she asked. “How was break?”

I was about to tell them how horrible my beach day had been with Ryde and his friend Ambrose—and the obnoxious sunscreen tattoo he’d given Ambrose after he fell asleep tanning—but the bell rang.

“Catch us up at lunch,” Callie said with a wave.

Ginger and Jordan started toward video.

Rory smiled at me. “You can tell me.”

We started toward current events class, and I launched into the story. By the time we walked into class, Rory had tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks, and I felt a little lighter too. Just because my relationship with Ryde was a complete dumpster fire waiting to happen didn’t mean I couldn’t make every other part of my life as good as it could possibly be.

Three

Dad and I sat at opposite ends of our long table, eating the meal our chef service had prepared. Tonight was chicken cordon bleu with a wedge salad and sparkling mint lemon water.

He sampled a bite in his mouth. “A little dry.”

I took a sip of my water and set it on the table. What was there to say? He hardly cared when I spoke anyway.

“How was school?”

“Good,” I