Until There Was You(21)

She and Liam first saw each other in the courtyard at lunch, and when Liam’s eyes locked on Emma’s, Posey, who was watching from three tables away, felt her cheeks warm as if she were the one Liam Murphy was looking at. Except, of course, she wasn’t. Even so, her insides turned to gooey caramel as Liam stared at Emma as if she were the only other person on earth.

Even before that moment, just about every female in high school would have liked to have been Emma, Posey most definitely included. Emma Tate had long blond hair. Was five foot seven…tall, but not too tall…blue, blue eyes. Boobs. She knew how to dress, not like a mannequin from Abercrombie, but with true style. And she was nice. Her family went to St. Martin’s, just like the Osterhagens, and she always said hello, warmly, too. She’d had a boyfriend at Lawrence Academy, but they’d broken up when the Tates went abroad.

Of course, Liam—that bad-boy god—would fall for someone like Emma, the squeaky-clean and uber-nice princess. Posey knew that. She’d been studying Liam for months now and already felt like she knew him better than anyone. Still, her heart collapsed as Liam walked across the courtyard, straight to Emma, who looked right into his gorgeous, perfect, unshaven face and smiled, and that was that.

Once in a while, Emma would drop by the restaurant. Those times were the worst, when Posey, sitting on her stool doing homework and secretly watching Liam, would have to witness the secret side of the man she loved, the side she’d known was lurking under his tough, guarded exterior. Liam would smile…right there, Posey’s heart would lose another healthy chunk. With Emma, he’d talk…the rumble of his voice, already a man’s voice, deep and steady, causing her stomach to tighten with lust. And then—oh, the pain of it—then he’d give Emma a quick kiss goodbye, so natural and so…so…so perfect that Posey, inevitably eating something as she did her homework, would stop mid-chew, pen frozen above the paper, unable to tear her eyes off the two of them.

Emma was far too nice. “Hey, Posey, how’s it going?” she’d say. “Do you have Mr. Rivers for math? Oh, my God, he was the worst!” One time… Oh, the horror, the horror. “Posey, Liam and I are going to the movies. Want to come along?”

Sure, right after I jump off Memorial Bridge, Posey thought. “Oh, thanks, but I have plans,” she chirruped. Right. Plans to do what? Lie on her bed and fantasize about Liam? Wonder what it would be like to be kissed? Still, she knew better than to tag along like some unwanted orphan.

As for other boys, nah. By the time she was sixteen, Posey’s bra size was a roomy 32A. Pants a size 12, boys’ slim. Her weight concerned her mom, who was six feet tall and weighed more than two hundred pounds, and so Posey was dragged to the pediatrician, who concurred.

“Well,” he announced, glancing at her paperwork, “your thyroid and blood work are normal, but I’m a little concerned.”

“I eat everything that’s not nailed down,” Posey protested. At his sharp look, she added, “And I don’t barf it up. I just have a fast metabolism.”

“She’s like a hummingbird, our little girl,” Stacia agreed fondly.

“Right,” he agreed. “But if you got sick, you don’t have anything in reserve. Two days of stomach flu, and we’d have to admit you to the hospital. And down the road, it can contribute to fertility problems.”

“Oh, no!” Stacia exclaimed, clutching Posey’s hand.

“Are your periods regular?”

Posey blushed. “Yes. Sort of. For the most part.”

“Will she be infertile, Doctor?” Stacia asked in a whisper.

“I can always adopt,” Posey said, her voice sharp. Stacia squeezed her hand again.

“It’s too early to talk about that,” the doctor said. “But let’s try to pack on a few pounds, okay? And listen. Most girls would love to have this problem. You’ll never be fat, look at it that way.”

“Well, I’d like to have boobs,” Posey grumbled. “Got anything for that?”

“It’s mostly hereditary,” the doctor said amiably. Great. Apparently, Posey’s birth mother was a stick insect. Gretchen was already a C-cup, something Aunt Ruth had called to announce that very morning. “But a little fattening up will help, too.”

Which is why Posey started going to Sweetie Sue’s Ice Cream Parlor every day after school. Sweetie Sue’s, where Emma Tate worked.

“Hi, Posey!” she said, looking irritatingly adorable in her pink uniform. “Good thing you came in, I was just about to fall asleep, it’s so dead in here.” She smiled. “What can I get you?”

Seeing Shiny Emma just reinforced all that was wrong with her. Posey swallowed, for once not hungry. “Can I have a hot-fudge sundae? Coconut ice cream, extra whipped cream, extra nuts.”

“You bet.” Emma scooped up the ice cream, drizzled the hot fudge, seemed to spray on the whipped cream for three full minutes. “Here you go,” she said, smiling as she handed it over. “I sure wish I could eat like you.”

Suddenly, Posey’s eyes were wet. “No, you don’t,” she whispered.

“Posey? You okay?” Emma’s pretty face creased in concern.

“I have to eat six times a day or I get lightheaded,” Posey blurted. “I eat more than my father, but I can’t keep any weight on, I don’t have any boobs, and the doctor just told me I might have trouble getting pregnant someday. This isn’t fun, you know.”