Curvy Girls Can't Date Quarterbacks - Kelsie Stelting Page 0,4

and back off. If you lose, you stay home from homecoming. I don’t need your kind ruining my day.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to make a bet, at least make it fair. I’m not trying to steal your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” She leaned back on Jordan’s desk, oblivious to the obvious discomfort on Jordan’s face. Merritt picked at her nails, pretending to be bored, but I didn’t miss the flash of pain that crossed her dainty features. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”

Jordan shifted back and gave me a look somewhere between upset and helpless. She wouldn’t dare go up against Merritt and risk her scholarship.

It was up to me. “Game on.”

The entire class gasped. Or maybe that was the blood rushing in my head.

I dropped into my chair, shell-shocked. Merritt forbid anyone in the room from saying a word of the bet until homecoming, on the threat of her daddy throwing around his money to get them kicked out of the school. It had been done before.

Mom came back minutes before the bell rang and assigned us chapters to read. At class change, I rushed to the hallway with the rest of the students, not wanting to hear what was sure to be a barrage of a million questions from my mother.

No, I had to get out of here and figure out how to do the impossible: get Beckett Langley to fall for a girl like me.

Three

Outside of health class, the reality of what had just happened came into sharp focus. This was hands down the dumbest thing I’d ever done. Why had I spoken up in class when staying quiet had always suited me just fine? For the benefit of the other big girls? We’d all heard worse. I had to find a way to get out of this bet.

No solution came to me during AP English when I should have been busy plotting my research essay. No idea crossed my mind during Latin class as I copied vocab words from the board. And certainly none came as I took my best meal of the day—the only one I chose—to the quad.

I would sit at my usual table, and instead of working on homework, I’d brainstorm ways to catch Beckett’s interest.

I had to.

Mom would die before letting me skip homecoming and the opportunity to wear the expensive gown she’d picked for me. Plus, with me as a senior and Aiden a junior, this would be our last homecoming dance together. I didn’t want to miss that either.

If I was being honest, I dreamed of the day Beckett would fall for me. When he’d look at me with my wavy hair, abundance of flesh, and acne, and tell me that he liked me. Not because I was beautiful or drove the best car or had the best connections, but because I was me.

But it was dangerous to think that way. It reminded me of all the ways I’d never be enough. Not just for him, but for my mother, who’s eyes filled with hope every time I stepped on the scale and fell with disappointment the second the numbers crossed the screen.

I knew she had my best interests at heart, but that didn’t keep me from wanting to be enough, for once, just as I was.

Midway down the hallway, a hand gripped my arm and yanked me through an open door.

“What the—” I managed before being drawn into a room filled with televisions, DVD players, outdated VCRs, and more cords than a BDSM headquarters.

Four girls sat before me: Jordan, Callie, Zara, and Ginger. The only thing they had in common was their size. And a weirdly purposeful look in their eyes. Like they were about to sacrifice me. Or murder me. (Those were different things, right?)

“What’s going on? Why are we in the AV storage room?” I asked, setting my plate on the table with theirs.

Zara stood by an open chair. “We’re helping you get Beckett, that’s what.”

Callie nodded. “It wasn’t nice what Merritt said to you.”

Ginger twisted a red curl around her finger. “That’s an understatement.”

“Yeah,” Jordan said. “She thinks she can just throw her money around and get whatever she wants.”

“Well,” I said, “she can.” I sat down at the table and started eating. I had to take my chance to consume processed food while I still could, even if it didn’t taste as good knowing I had PCOS. At their disappointed looks, I added, “This is sweet, really,