Page 16 of Confessions of the Funny Fat Friend

“It is,” I agreed, trying to keep the swoon out of my voice.

“Tell us about the dinner,” Mara said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Anything happen?”

“Yeah, one of the guys my grandma tried to set me up with walked in with a very hot mean girl on his arm. I'm sure Tyler was wishing that she would have been there with him instead of me.”

Mara scrunched up her face. “Why on earth would he want to be with a mean girl when he was sitting across from you?”

I didn't want to say the obvious, so I only said, “The whole encounter was super awkward, and I wish I could have disappeared into the booth.”

Birdie asked, “How did Tyler handle it?”

I wrapped my hands around my mug, holding on to it as I searched for the right words. “He rescued me.”

With a smile, Mara said, “This is the part I was hoping for.”

I shook my head at her. “I think he took pity on me—he pretended to be my boyfriend and made the guy totally jealous in front of his date. He was really sweet about it after too. There was a moment...” I paused, my throat catching with emotion. Tyler had seemed so sincere, and my hopes were getting far too high. But this was the part I needed help sorting through, so I continued.

“He put his hand on mine and looked me in the eyes and said not to let them make me feel any less beautiful than I am. And it seemed like he really meant it.”

Both of my friends covered their hearts with their hands and madeawwsounds like he was some kind of sweet puppy dog.

“He felt sorry for me, right?” I said.

Mara gave me a sad look. “Can I give you some advice?”

Trying to keep from crying, I teased, “I know it's coming anyway, so I don't know why you're asking.”

Birdie chuckled as Mara continued. “Let him choose his intentions.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’re already assuming you know the ‘why’ behind what he did, but the truth is, Tyler’s the only one who knows.”

Her words settled over me for a moment, and I realized she was right. I had already pegged him as just another hot guy who would never be interested in a plus-sized girl like me. What if he had other reasons for doing what he’d done?

Betty saved me from replying by bringing three plates full of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. The three of us dug into our breakfast, eating our way through the food and moving on to other subjects. Birdie told us about their plans for her stepson, Ollie’s, senior year, and Mara shared about the condo she and Jonas were buying in Atlanta for when she had to go there for work.

Catching up with them over comfort food really was a great way to start the morning.

With our food and drinks mostly gone, we all waved goodbye and left the diner. As I got in the car, I realized my mind had settled somewhat. Stewing over the “why” behind Tyler’s actions had driven me crazy. Mara’s advice gave me permission to simply... enjoy.

I drove toward the job site since I was supposed to check in every day and see if they have all that they needed or if I could get them anything. Janessa had told me that there would be errands to run and communication between Crenshaw and Blue Bird to handle. I was excited to start this new part of my job... when a thump sounded underneath my car and it started pulling to the right.

I groaned as I gently tapped the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder of the highway. That couldn't have been good. Cars rushed by me as I got out and walked around my car, trying to determine what damage there was. And then I found the culprit. I must have hit a rock or something with my tire because it was already completely flat.

I tilted my head back, letting out a frustrated grunt toward the sky. I didn’t have time for this, nor did I have the desire to be late on my very first day checking in on the build site. I wasnotdressed for changing a tire, but I had to get to work at a decent time.

I opened the trunk, trying to ignore the fact that I'd worn my best formfitting green dress and knowing that it would probably be completely ruined by the time I got to the job site. I lifted the storage flap and got out the tire iron, jack, and my spare tire. Thankfully Dad had made me practice changing a tire before I ever got behind the wheel.

I quickly had the lug nuts loosened and the car jacked up. I positioned the tire iron over the lug nuts to take off the punctured tire. Gravel crunched under slowing tire treads on the shoulder, and I looked up to wave them off. I was no damsel in distress.

But the sight of Tyler's pickup and his concerned face through the windshield had me freezing. Now I was really embarrassed. I straightened, wiping gravel off my knees and pulling my dress down.

He hopped out of his truck, his work boots crunching dirt beneath him. My eyes trailed from his boots up his muscular, denim-clad legs, over his green Crenshaw Construction T-shirt, and to the concern in his hazy eyes. “Flat tire?” he asked.

I folded my arms across my chest and nodded. “Bad timing also.”

“Can I help you change it? I'd hate to see you ruin that pretty dress.”

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