Page 11 of Mostly My Boss
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I didn’t want to be friends with the weird genius guy, but he was right. I did not have a lot of alternatives and mostly it was because of my attitude.
Not that I was negative or anything. Just careful. So careful all the time it was hard to put myself out there.
“I’ll make friends,” I insisted and stabbed a bite of the bulgogi. It wasn’t bad. “It’s just harder for me than it might be for others.”
“Others?”
“You know. The legacy students who all know they belong here. They’re like this immediate clique because they have this school and their parents in common.”
“You’re not the only scholarship kid at Harvard,” he pointed out.
No, I wasn’t. But I hadn’t found another one from Iowa. Heck, I’d be happy with someone from Idaho.
“I’m from a different place than a lot of people here are from. Not that it matters. Besides, I didn’t come here to make friends. My education is the most important thing to me right now.”
He smirked. “Says the girl who has no friends.”
“Says the guy who’s sitting with her.”
“Touché. Are you going to eat all of that?”
There were a lot of different dishes on my tray because I hadn’t been able to choose. Admittedly, more than I could possibly eat. Still, as someone who was a little self-conscious about her weight, I instantly went on the defensive.
“Are you fat-shaming me?” It was only a halfhearted accusation. I mean, no one actually publicly fat-shamed people anymore. Not even the mean girls.
“No, of course not. Well, I don’t know. Maybe. I’m saying it’s a lot of food for one person of your size to eat. Is that fat-shaming you?”
“It depends. It is if you’re saying, hey, that’s a lot of food. You must be eating all of that because you’re fat. Or, hey that’s a lot of food. If you eat all that, you’ll get fat.”
“B. The latter. I mean, it is a lot of food and you know what they say about the freshmen fifteen—”
“Oh my God!” Unbelievable. “Youarefat-shaming me. You understand you’re not allowed to do that anymore, right? Women are no longer going to be judged by our size or a man’s opinion of it.”
“I’m not trying to judge you. I’m just pointing out that I don’t think you want to put on fifteen pounds. Which I just assume most girls don’t want to do. I’m trying to be real with you.”
“You’re being an asshole right now,” I told him. “You have no idea what kind of metabolism I have. Or bone structure!”
“I’m not saying you’re fat! I just said it was a lot of food.”
“Right. Because I’m not fat. Not by anyone’s definition of a healthy body.”
God, that sounded so lame, even to me. No, I wasn’t fat. I wasn’t thin, either. Not like Nicki. My size came from basically growing up on a diet of corn and potatoes.
And he was probably right—fifteen pounds could be the thing that tipped the scales for me. Absolutely no pun intended.
He was shaking his head as if he’d reached the conclusion he was in a no-win situation. “I was just trying to be honest. That’s what friendship is all about.”
“No, friendship is about support. Encouragement. And not calling someone fat. Besides, we’re not friends. You and I have a business arrangement. That’s all.”
His lips thinned out. “Shit. This is the second conversation I fucked up today.” He seemed legitimately annoyed with himself.
“Why? Did you walk up to someone and call them ugly?”
He rolled his eyes and tucked his fork into a piece of salmon. That’s right. Grilled salmon was a lunch option at Harvard.
“No. She was quite cute, actually.”
“You approached a girl?”
