Page 9 of Need You to Choose Me

My fingertips scratch the back of my hand as I squirm in my seat. Compliments aren’t really my thing. I love to give them but hate receiving them. But she isn’t wrong. Sebastian and his high school friends used to get pissed when I beat them atCall of Dutyor correct them on football stats whenever they’d start talking about fantasy league or Super Bowl predictions. And I’ve taught Skylar everything I know about makeup application; how to find her perfect shade, what looks best with her blue eyes, and how to contour.

“Labels make me itchy,” I admit, rubbing my arm.

“But why?”

I go to answer but realize I don’t have one. Maybe I was just built this way. Or maybe it has something to do with my parents’ ugly divorce. I don’t let myself think about all the childhoodtrauma that came with coming from a broken household. For the most part, I had a good life growing up. I was lucky. Even though we didn’t have any contact with our extended family for reasons I’ll never really understand, Sebastian and I had a great childhood. We had love and support. That’s what mattered.

Eventually, I lift one of my shoulders. “I don’t know. After the Alex thing, I learned that people are distractions. And sometimes dealing with them is more work than they’re worth.”

After the night I walked to my dorm alone, she’d helped pick up the pieces one McDonalds meal and sappy eighties chick flick at a time. I think we might have missed a few, because there feels like a hole in my heart that hasn’t been the same since Alex.

But I don’t think about that because it sends me down a path of what-ifs that I don’t enjoy thinking about.

To lighten the mood, I bring up the other love of her life outside of her boyfriend. “The only label I don’t get hives over is Auntie Olive. And I’m a little offended you didn’t bring over the little chicken nugget for me to love on today.”

Skylar’s face twists as she grabs her boobs. “I know. I regret not bringing him because these things arepainful. Although, Bentley is starting to teethe and that’s not fun for my poor nipples.”

Her son, Bentley Lucas, is one of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen and a perfect mixture of Skylar and DJ. With bright eyes, chubby cheeks, and blond hair, the kid is going to be a heartbreaker when he’s older.

I glance unabashedly at her full D cups that give my boobs a run for my money. “They look amazing though.”

“Says the girl with a chest Dolly Parton would approve of,” she grumbles, massaging her chest and flinching. “I’m going to have to pump soon, or I might explode. I started leaking in American Lit yesterday in themiddleof my final.”

Sympathy has me wincing. “Oh no.”

Skylar nods, still looking traumatized over the experience. “The professor told me I could go take care of it and come back to finish the exam. He looked uncomfortable.”

“Does that mean he was staring at your tits?” I ask, sipping more of my soda. “I can’t blame the guy. They’re hard to miss these days. Hell, I think I’ve made more eye contact with them than I have you all morning.”

An unattractive snort comes from her as she lowers her hands to examine them. “Danny definitely likes them more now. He’s going to be crushed when they go away.”

“You could always get a boob job,” I suggest nonchalantly. “I could transfer some of mine to you. They’re starting to kill my back.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing her chair back. “I will be sure to keep that in mind, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Blowing out a raspberry, I murmur, “Damn.”

Grabbing her bag, she drapes it over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back. Are you sticking around? I’m kind of hungry and would kill for a burger.”

“I’ll be here. Go milk the cows.”

She makes a face at the reference. “You’re lucky I love you,” she grumbles, smacking my arm as she passes me.

I pull out my phone and read through the missed texts I’ve gotten while I wait for her to get back.

Mom:Are you still coming home this summer for break?

Dad:Did you make time to finally visit me? You haven’t met Candi

Big Brother:Mom and Dad are fighting again. Thought I’d give you a heads up

Frowning, I mumble, “Too late,” to Sebastian’s message. He’s lucky he has hockey as an excuse not to deal with the back-and-forth that comes with our parents. Whenever Dad wants us tovisit, it never fits into Sebastian’s busy schedule, so the pressure gets put on me.

I love our father, even though he’s a little bit of a deadbeat. He always blames our mother whenever Seb or I can’t make visiting him work, like it’s her fault we don’t want to deal with his narcissistic ass. He cares more about whichever girlfriend he’s seeing than his own kids. And God forbid our mother moves on with her life without him inserting his unwanted two cents. It’s like he thinks he’s the only one allowed to be happy.

Then there’s his commentary over my health, mostly my weight, that never seems to fail whenever I make time for him. Most of the time, I let it slide off my shoulders. But there are moments when his words really sink in and grab ahold of my heart. And when that happens, I get pulled into a mindset that sinks me into the abyss of my consciousness that makes me wonder if Iamgood enough.

That’s a sucky place to be, especially when it’s your own father who puts the thoughts there.

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