Fallen Crest High(28)

He jogged after the team, but glanced back with a small wave before he got onto the field.

Becky whooshed out, "I can't believe I'm going to a party with Adam Quinn."

My shoulder nudged her. "Maybe there's hope for you after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Here's your big chance." I gave her a duh look. "He's going to be drinking.

You're going to be drinking. I can drive us home…"

Then she squeaked again and clamped her mouth shut. Her cheeks got big and her whole body was soon red, even her hands and fingers.

I laughed. "Now you just have to figure out what you're going to wear."

As I headed to my car, I heard her groan behind me. Somehow, things didn't seem so bad when I had a friend to distract me. Too bad it wouldn't keep. I wanted something to keep.



CHAPTER EIGHT

Becky was bouncing off the wall when I got to her house the next afternoon. I was dressed in see-through white summer dress that tied behind my neck. My black bikini was visible underneath and I had on simple black flip flops. While I was going for comfort, Becky wanted sexy.

She let out a dramatic groan and collapsed on her bed when I went to her room. One of her arms had been pulled through a black tube top, or that's what it looked like. A blinding rainbow colored bikini top had been pushed up.

When she rolled over, she cried out, "I can't fit into anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"I have nothing, nothing! I'm so fat, Sam."

I frowned and grabbed her hand to pull her up. When she looked at me, I shrugged. "What do you want me to say? If you're trying to be a model, you need to lose weight. I think you're fine just how you are."

"Thanks a lot," she grumbled.

"I thought friends were honest." I flashed a grin.

She stood back up and struggled to pull the rest of her tube top over her left boob. Then she started to hop around. "Yeah, but it'd be easier to take if you didn't look how you did."

I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.

She paused mid-hop. "That's a compliment."

"Oh." I loosened my arms. "My mom's always on me about my weight."

"You could gain some. You want mine?"

I chuckled and watched as she continued to hop around, sometimes skip around the room. After an hour, when Becky stopped to pant with beads of sweat on her forehead, I gestured to a dress in her closet. "Why don't you just wear that?"

"Ugh." She let out another drawn-out groan. "That makes me look like a tan marshmallow."

"It does not. You wore it to the first day of school. I thought you looked nice."

Her eyebrows arched high. "I didn't know you knew who I was back then?"

I shrugged. "I didn't, but I still thought you looked nice."

"Your besty Jessica called me fatso that day."

I rolled my eyes. "If she went out of her way to call you a name that meant you looked good. And I bet some guy she wanted to flirt with was looking at you instead."

"You think?"

"I know so."

"It's my last option anyway. I need to lose weight, or buy new clothes and I refuse to buy new clothes." She grimaced. "My bank account won't allow it and I can't live down the fact that I'm a size larger since last year."

"You could go running with me."

She shot me a dark look. "I'm not that desperate. I'll try walking first."