Page 112 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

I’ve never hated my job more or dreaded going to work in the mornings. I hit all my snooze alarms and practically forced myself to roll out of bed each day, praying one of the jobs I applied to would call me back. I only hoped that Tyler had landed on his feet better than I had. I tried to check his social media accounts every so often, but all I’d seen was a picture Liv tagged him in with their other two siblings.

It hurt to see him smiling at the camera, his eyes crinkling in the corners and his perfect teeth on full display. He had his arms easily draped around Liv and Rhett’s shoulders, and I would have given anything—almost anything—to trade places with them and feel his arms around me just one more time.

Weekends were easier, though. I could spend the day with my family, which was exactly why I made the choices I did. This weekend, we were sitting around the table, celebrating Bertrand’s birthday.

Grandma was in her wheelchair at the table and asked, “Where’s Tyler?”

I frowned, aching at the mere sound of his name. I’d been lying to all of them—telling them he was busy with the build or traveling to see his family, but the lies had been harder to keep up with. More painful to tell. “I need to tell you all something.”

The table grew quiet.

“Tyler and I... we aren’t together anymore. He went back to Texas a couple months ago, and I was just too embarrassed to say anything.”

The table burst out into a million questions. Johmarcus wanted to know if he needed to beat him up—typical older brother. Bertrand asked if that meant Tyler wouldn’t be coming to the wedding. And Justus wanted to know if he’d left me for another woman, which stung. But nothing hurt more than the disappointed look in Grandma’s eyes.

“I thought he was the one,” she said.

My lips trembled. “He was.” I knew that much for sure.

Everyone was quiet for a moment until Dad graciously changed the subject, saying, “Bertrand, how many spankings is it this year? Twenty-six?”

A look of terror crossed Bertrand’s face. “I’m too old for this shit!”

“Language!” Laila hissed.

Dad shook his head. “You’re still my child.”

Bertrand got up, running from the table, quickly followed by Johmarcus and Justus.

Some things never changed.

69

Tyler

I lay on my childhood bed after a long day of work with a neighbor who needed help building a fence. The labor had been freeing, with hours spent under the warm spring sun, pounding away at the rain-softened earth.

But when the work was done, the pain came back. I always ate dinner at the table with Mom and Dad, not speaking much, and then I went upstairs, took a shower, lay in my bed, and prayed sleep would come quickly.

For the most part, my parents let me be. But tonight, there was a knock on the door.

“About to go to sleep,” I called.

“Like hell you are,” Rhett said, shoving open the door.

I propped myself on my elbows, staring at him in the dim lighting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you out.”

“On a Wednesday night?”

“Ladies drink free on Wednesday’s. Now up.”

I shook my head, lying back down. “No way in hell.”

“I will drag you out of this house myself, and you know I could do it. So why don’t you make this easy on both of us and leave of your own free will.” He went to the closet, rifling through the clothes.

“Free will,” I muttered. “Doesn’t count if you’re coerced.”

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