Page 2 of Rumor Has It

“You don’t count.”

“Of course I do,” I say, pulling out onto the street. “Don’t start telling lies just because there’s a new boy in town.”

Ellie dramatically huffs at me, turning her attention to her phone. I’ve sufficiently gotten far enough under her skin for the moment. Round one goes to me.

“So your car isn’t done,” I say. “Soonest I can get the last part for your jalopy is Monday.”

“No, no, no, no, shit!” Her words echo too loudly in my otherwise quiet car.

“Sorry, El,” I say. “Best I can do.”

“Shit, what am I going to do all weekend? I have plans,” she says. Her voice always gets so loud and shrill when she panics.

“Calm down. I’ll drive you if you need to go somewhere.”

“Like even tonight?” she asks, suddenly calm.

“What’s tonight?” I counter.

“A bunch of people are going to Hop’s Bar for karaoke night,” she says.

Her words are coming out a little too sweet now. She knows I hate karaoke night.

“Damn, I set myself up for that.”

“Please, please? It will be so fun. Pleeeaaaase?” she begs.

I look over at her at the red light. Her big brown eyes are staring right into my soul. She knows I can’t resist it when she throws me the puppy-dog act, her hands clasped together like I’m a statue of Jesus.

“Fine,” I gruff. “Who’s going?”

TWO

ELLIE

If I have any chance of getting him to actually keep his word and come to karaoke night, I absolutely can’t tell himeveryonewho’s coming. Will the usual crew be there? Like our friends Parker and Kelly Ann? Yes. Will a couple of my coworkers he knows be there? Also yes. Will the new cute teacher be there? You betcha. That last one will be the issue. He’s not jealous, of course, but he can be very protective. I swear it’s like he thinks of me as another little sister even though he’s three months younger than me. I don’t need him grilling the guy for an hour straight and then telling me I can do better.

“The usual crew,” I say, shrugging. If I play it down too much, he’ll know something is up. If I don’t make a big enough fuss after practically begging him, he’ll know something is up. It’s a real Goldilocks situation.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, I relax my shoulders a little bit and turn my thoughts to what the hell I’m going to wear tonight. I have to look good. Not teacher good, buttake me home and bang megood. But also casual.Casually take me home and bang megood.

Once I’m back home with Theo’s promise to pick me up in three hours, I run straight to my closet. What iscasually take me home and bang me, though? This isn’t a magic wardrobe. It isn’t going to spit out the perfect combination of sexy and cute.

To be honest, this part of the process is always the hardest for me. I’m a thick girl. My clothing size is well into the double digits, and I can easily get self-conscious in certain situations. Especially around new people. And especially when those new people look fine as hell. Nearly all my friends are smaller than me, and I’ve spent my life being the funny fat friend rather than the leading lady. I’ve been the girl in the friend group the guys come up to first, but only to ask about my thinner friends. It’s never fun for me.

Which is probably why I haven’t been in very many meaningful relationships—a boyfriend here and there, but nothing made it past a year. Then there was my most recent ex. I prefer not to dwell on it, but let’s just say there was a lot of emotional abuse and manipulation. He also completely ruined my relationship with working out because it was a requirement to be with him. Yes, you heard me correctly.Man seeks woman who must work out every day no matter what.

Even now, I gaze into the mirror and begin grabbing pinches of fat at my hips and thighs. Luckily I found a fat-positive therapist who’s helping me through my own body dysmorphia and relationship with myself. Sure, at this moment looking in the mirror, my doubt flares up. But generally speaking, I’m very outgoing and don’t much care what others think of how I behave or what I wear. It’s a process with a lot of ups and downs.

After choosing the perfect outfit, I step into the bathroom for a hot shower so my hair smells good and my legs and kitty are shaved. Hey, I don’t like to rule out the possibility of a hookup, especially when there’s a little alcohol involved and those good ol’ inhibitions are lowered. I’d rather shave it and not need it than need it and not shave it.

As I lather my hair with shampoo, the only thought that comes to mind is the possibility of Theo’s ex-girlfriend showing up tonight. It’s a small town, and we don’t exactly have a ton of bars to choose from. The good news is she’s moving out of state, and I’m hoping she’s too busy preparing for that to show up. Hell, maybe she’s already gone. One can only hope. Last time I saw her, I punched her in the nose and got a bloody lip in return. Theo had to physically pick me up and carry me away so it didn’t continue. Later, he told me she wasn’t worth it, but I could see the hurt she left in his eyes, and I’ll never believe it wasn’t.

It’s been a good six months since they broke up and I gave her that shiner, but water doesn’t pass under that particular bridge all that fast. He won’t say, but I know he’s still hurting.

My phone buzzes, but I ignore it as I hairspray down the stupid baby hairs that stick up everywhere. Doing this always causes me to think about chopping my hair off. At present, it’s nearly down to my ass and annoying as hell, and it always ends up in a ponytail about halfway through the day.

As my phone buzzes again, I roll my eyes. It better not be Theo saying he’s coming early. I reluctantly pick up my phone and see I have two new messages.

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