Curvy Girls Can't Date Curvy Girls
Chapter One: Xiomara
People like me were supposed to hate school assemblies.
I should have detested cheerleaders and their short skirts that were surely designed with the patriarchy in mind.
But I couldn’t find it in me to be bothered. Not with the cute way Kiyana’s cheer skirt fluttered around her thighs. Not with the way her sparkly blue eyeshadow only drew more attention to her pretty, dark eyes. And definitely not with the smile she wore as she sang and danced to the Emerson Academy fight song.
A preppy, curvy girly girl like Kiyana would never go for someone like me. Heavy, as clumsy as they came, and two years younger.
Especially not when she was dating the school’s star quarterback and had been for the last four years.
“What do you think, Xi?” Van asked.
I looked over to my best guy friend, who was holding hands with his girlfriend, Ronnie.
“About what?” I asked.
On my left, Shelley smirked. “She was too busy paying attention to the cheerleaders to hear you.”
“As if,” I lied.
Van wore a knowing grin and said, “I was asking if you wanted to go to Waldo’s tonight. Celebrate the end of our imprisonment. At least for the summer.”
I laughed. “A milkshake does sound good. Even if it will be super crowded.”
Shelley said, “Then you won’t mind if Gunnar comes along?” She was already blushing, and I had to grin.
“That cute guy you’ve been texting?”
She nodded. “He’s been wanting to hang out.”
“Invite him,” Van said, and Ronnie nodded her agreement. They were the only couple in our friend group, and I knew she was dying for double dates that didn’t just involve Shelley and me tagging along.
The cheering ended, and our guidance counselor, Birdie Bardot, took the microphone. “It’s been another great year at Emerson Academy! The football team made the playoffs. Go, Drafters!”
The football players cheered the loudest of everyone.
“Our school production of Annie was incredible!”
More cheering from the drama kids.
“The marching band performed at the Badgers halftime show!”
Even louder cheering that now included some blaring instruments.
“And we have so much to look forward to, like Emerson Academy participating in Emerson’s first pride celebration with an inclusive prom!”
The clapping was noticeably quieter, and I felt the heavy weight of eyes on me. As if the rumor mill weren’t enough to let everyone in school know that I liked girls, my mom was the very public head of the Emerson Pride Association and the bank where my dad worked had funded many educational sessions on inclusion at our school.
I was as out as out could be—with the notable exception of a girlfriend or anyone even close.
“We’re dismissing everyone to clean up their lockers, and then you are free to go and enjoy your summer! Be sure to pick up a flyer for the inclusive prom during Emerson’s pride celebration and your summer reading list on your way out!”
The shuffle of students began around us, and I followed my friends along the bleachers and out of the gym. There were fifty-four kids in our class, but I probably wouldn’t see most of them over the summer. These four were my people, and I was glad to have them.
We parted ways to go to our lockers, and Van called, “See you at Waldo’s. Five thirty, okay?”
Shelley and I exchanged a glance. “That means eight,” I said, sticking my tongue out at Van. He could have worn all the watches in existence and still wouldn’t be on time.
“Ha ha,” he said and turned to walk away, his hand linked with Ronnie’s.
Shelley glanced at me and said, “See you later, Xi.”
I lifted my fingers in a wave and went down the hallway that had my locker. It was at the end of the sophomore hall, which luckily gave me plenty of room to begin clearing it out, starting with pulling down photos of my friends and a mini poster of the Indigo Girls.
I carefully slid them into a folder and then got to work taking out my books. I always kept my favorites on hand because I never knew when there would be free time to read. The problem with having so many books? Having to carry them home. (Or at least to my mom’s car, where she’d be waiting in the parking lot.)
I filled my backpack to the point of bursting and still had several left. So I stacked them carefully, holding them in my arms and using my chin to hold them in place.
Using my hip, I bumped my locker door, but the janky thing never closed unless you lifted up on the lock and slid it shut.
“Crap,” I muttered, not wanting to set my books on the floor and start all over.
“Here, I’ll help you,” a beautiful, clear voice said.
My eyes widened and I nearly dropped all my books when I realized who had spoken. Kiyana was standing in front of me, offering to help.
She pushed on the door, but just like always, it caught.
“Is it broken?” she asked.
Finding my voice, I said, “You have to lift up on the hinges.”
She wrapped her fingertips around the underside of the lock and pushed, using her hip to secure it. “They should really fix that,” she said.
“Tell me about it. I told them about it at the beginning of the year.”
She laughed. “Figures.”
I glanced around, wondering where her boyfriend was, where her usual posse of cheerleaders had gone. But instead of answering my silent question, she said, “Do you need help carrying those outside?”
I hesitated. This had been the extent of our conversation for my two years in high school with her... despite how often I’d looked her way when she wouldn’t notice. It felt too good to be true. “Are you sure?”
“Anything to keep from turning in my pom poms.” She grabbed half the stack from me.
Now that I looked away from her beautiful dark eyes, I realized she was wearing leggings and a long T-shirt.
“They make you turn them in right away?”
She nodded, walking beside me toward the exit. “I would steal mine if I could.” She laughed. “I’m going to miss cheering here.”
“But you’re cheering in college, right?” I asked and instantly blushed. I shouldn’t have known that. Shouldn’t have cared enough to remember.
If it bothered her, she didn’t let on. “Yeah. I actually leave in a few weeks to start training.”
“Three weeks?” I did the math in my head. The inclusive prom was three weeks from now. If time was on my side, we could go togeth—
I quickly shut down that thought. It didn’t do me any good to fantasize about girls I could never have. Girls who would never be interested in me in a million and one years.
“We have cheer camp for a week so the squad can get to know each other, and then we start practicing for the football season. It’ll be so much fun. And so different.”
We reached the front doors of the school, and someone held the door open for us. Or, let’s be real, for Kiyana. She was Emerson Academy royalty. Literally. She’d been homecoming queen, and I’d voted for her.
We slowly went down the steps, and she asked, “Where are you parked?”
My cheeks felt hot in a way that had nothing to do with the early summer sun. “My mom’s waiting for me over there.” I nodded toward her maroon sedan that I hoped would be mine someday.
“Great,” she replied.
We got closer to the car and stopped.
“You know,” she said, “I never told you how much I admired you. For coming out this year. It was really brave of you.” There was something behind her smile. Something I didn’t understand, but it didn’t feel malicious.
“Thanks?” I said awkwardly because... well... that’s who I am.
She nodded, and I heard the car door open as Mom got out. Mom took the books from Kiyana, and we filled the trunk. When I looked up to thank her, Kiyana was already walking away.
“That was nice of her,” Mom said.
I nodded, looking after the girl who had been my biggest crush for the last two years and thinking I wanted so much more than for her to be proud of me.
