One Accidental Text

Emery

There were four minutes until the first bell, and I was standing at my locker pretending I needed something out of it.

I didn’t.

My government book was already in my backpack, my homework was in the front pocket, and I’d checked twice before leaving home to make sure I had everything. I was keeping my locker open because standing there looking busy felt less pathetic than standing there looking like I had nobody to talk to.

Everyone else at Northbridge High seemed to know exactly where they belonged.

Sienna Blake and Bree Dalton were by the trophy case with a couple of cheerleaders, laughing over something on Bree’s phone. Knox Bennett was nearby with some of the football players, and Rhett Callahan stood in the middle of them like he always did.

People naturally made room for Rhett.

I wondered what that felt like.

Not the football-player part. I’d probably need medical attention halfway through warm-ups. I meant walking into school and knowing people wanted you there. Never wondering if you should say hi first. Never pretending you hadn’t seen someone because you were afraid they might look confused about why you were talking to them.

Sometimes I thought there had to be a trick to fitting in.

I just hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Stop daydreaming about the popular people.”

I jumped.

Piper Reyes appeared beside me wearing ripped black jeans, red sneakers, and enough silver bracelets to make noise every time she moved.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“I was observing.”

“You were observing Rhett Callahan’s ass.”

“Piper!”

She grinned.

Piper was my best friend and pretty much my opposite. We were both considered outcasts at Northbridge, except Piper acted like she’d personally applied for the position. She said whatever she wanted, wore whatever she wanted, and didn’t seem to care whether people approved.

I cared enough for both of us.

“You know what I don’t understand?” I asked.

“Why we’re required to learn calculus?”

“How they do that.”

Piper followed my gaze. “Stand around?”

“Fit in.”

Her smile faded slightly.

“Bree just walks over there and she’s part of it. Nobody wonders why she’s there.”

“Em—”

“I’m just saying.”

Maybe senior year would be different.

I’d been telling myself that since August.

“Emery!”

I turned so quickly I nearly hit my head on the locker door.

Bree was walking toward us.

Piper sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bree stopped in front of me holding her chemistry study guide. “Please tell me you finished this.”

“Last night.”

“I knew you would. Can you help me with fourteen? I’m completely lost.”

“Sure.”

Fourteen was wrong. So were fifteen and seventeen, so I fixed those too.

“I made a review sheet last night,” I said. “I can send it to you.”

Her face brightened. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. And my notes from Tuesday if you want.”

Beside me, Piper cleared her throat.

I ignored her.

“You’re literally the best,” Bree said.

A stupid little warmth spread through me.

Maybe she’d text later.

Maybe she’d say hi tomorrow.

Maybe she’d ask me to sit with them at lunch eventually.

People became friends somehow. Maybe this was how it started.

“You can text me if you want help studying too.”

“Definitely. You just saved my life.”

The warning bell rang.

“Crap. Gotta go. Thanks, Emery!”

I watched her hurry back toward Sienna.

“She called me a lifesaver.”

Piper stared at me. “She asked for one question.”

“So?”

“You did four, offered her your notes, gave her a review sheet, and volunteered to tutor her.”

“I was being nice.”

“You’re always nice.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.” Piper softened. “I just wish you’d stop thinking you have to earn people.”

My smile disappeared.

“I don’t.”

Piper gave me a look.

“She came over to me.”

“For chemistry.”

“She still came over.”

I hated how defensive I sounded.

More than that, I hated the possibility that Piper was right.

I stepped backward and slammed into someone.

My notebook hit the floor.

“Shit. Sorry.”

I knew that voice.

Rhett Callahan crouched and grabbed my notebook.

“Here you go…” He hesitated. “Emily?”

Ouch.

Twelve years in the same school.

“Emery.”

“Right.” He smiled. “I knew it started with an E.”

“Twelve years together and you’ve narrowed it down to a vowel. Impressive.”

His eyebrows lifted.

Then he laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Well, now I definitely won’t forget.”

Knox yelled his name.

Rhett handed me the notebook. “See you around, Emery.”

I watched him leave.

Piper leaned toward me. “Don’t.”

“He remembered my name.”

“After you told him.”

“He said he won’t forget.”

“Emery.”

“What?”

“You’re already turning that into something.”

“I am not.”

I absolutely was.

Maybe he’d say hi tomorrow.

Maybe this morning he’d barely known my name, but tomorrow—

See? This was my problem.

Give me one crumb and I’d build an entire cake.

I shoved my notebook into my backpack and followed Piper toward class.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into dress shopping after school.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I wasn’t thanking you.”

“You can’t wear one of your giant sweaters to Sadie Hawkins.”

I looked down at my oversized gray sweater. “There’s nothing wrong with this.”

“You could hide three freshmen under there.”

“That’s why I like it.”

Piper’s expression changed.

“I know.”

I tugged the sweater lower without thinking.

I’d started wearing clothes like this in middle school, when my chest developed before practically every other girl in my grade. Apparently twelve-year-old boys considered breasts the funniest thing ever invented.

There had been staring.

Whispering.

Jokes.

One nickname in seventh grade I still refused to think about.

I’d learned quickly that fitted shirts got attention and oversized sweatshirts didn’t.

Then the rest of my body filled out too. Hips. Thick thighs. A stomach that had never been flat.

The baggy clothes stayed.

“You can’t hide forever,” Piper said.

“I’m not hiding. I’m comfortable.”

“You’re hiding comfortably.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not. You have curves. Own them.”

I snorted. “Yeah. Curves everybody likes to make fun of.”

Piper stopped.

“Idiots made fun of you.”

“Northbridge has a large idiot population.”

“That doesn’t mean they get to decide what you wear.”

Easy for her to say.

Piper never seemed to worry about whether her stomach showed when she sat down or whether a shirt made her chest look too big. She just existed in her body.

I couldn’t imagine that either.

“I don’t even have anyone to go to Sadie Hawkins with.”

“Neither do I.”

“You don’t care.”

“Correct.”

“See? That’s the difference.”

“You want to do everything the popular girls do, right?”

I frowned. “That sounds terrible when you say it.”

“Parties. Games. Dances.”

“I know.”

“Then we’re buying dresses.”

“Sadie Hawkins is girls-ask-guys.”

“Yes. Excellent grasp of the concept.”

“So buying a dress implies I might actually have to ask someone.”

Piper’s eyes narrowed.

Mine betrayed me by drifting down the hallway.

Rhett disappeared around the corner with Knox.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Piper said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The bell rang, saving me.

But for most of government, instead of listening to Mr. Brennan explain the judicial branch, I kept thinking something completely ridiculous.

What if I actually asked Rhett Callahan?

⸻

By four-thirty, I regretted agreeing to go shopping.

“I look fat.”

“You look hot.”

“I said fat.”

“And I said hot. I heard you.”

I stared at myself in the dressing-room mirror.

The dark-green dress stopped a few inches above my knees and hugged my waist instead of politely pretending I didn’t have one.

Everything was visible.

My chest looked huge. My stomach wasn’t flat. My thighs touched. My hips looked twice as wide without an oversized sweater covering them.

I pulled the neckline higher.

Then sucked in my stomach.

That lasted until I needed oxygen.

“This was a mistake.”

“Come out.”

“No.”

“Emery.”

“I look like somebody stuffed me into a green sausage casing.”

The curtain opened.

“Piper!”

She ignored me and looked me over.

“Oh, you’re buying that.”

“Did you miss the sausage part?”

“You look gorgeous.”

“My boobs are practically announcing themselves.”

“They’re covered.”

“That’s never stopped anyone from staring.”

The joke came out wrong.

Piper’s smile disappeared.

I crossed my arms over my chest automatically.

I’d been doing that for years too.

“Em.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.”

I looked at myself again.

“I spent middle school getting laughed at because I developed before everybody else. Then I got bigger everywhere else too. Guys stared at my chest. Girls whispered that I was showing off when I wore the exact same shirts they did.” I tugged at the dress. “So yeah, maybe I don’t love the idea of walking into school dressed like this.”

Piper came beside me.

“You’re trying to make yourself smaller.”

“I am not.”

“You’re sucking in your stomach, covering your chest and pulling the dress down all at the same time. I’m surprised you’re still breathing.”

I let my stomach go.

“People will stare.”

“You want people to notice you.”

“Not my body.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

My throat tightened.

“I want them to notice me.”

Piper’s face softened.

There it was.

The embarrassing truth.

I wanted to be seen more than anything.

I was terrified of being looked at.

Piper turned me toward the mirror.

“You can’t keep dressing for the people who made you feel ashamed of your body.”

I swallowed.

For one completely ridiculous second, I imagined Sadie Hawkins.

Walking into the dance in this dress.

Bree telling me I looked amazing.

Sienna doing a double take.

Rhett looking at me like he’d never seen me before.

Maybe I’d even ask him.

Then reality crashed back in.

The guy hadn’t known my name this morning.

I was apparently skipping several important steps.

“Take a picture,” Piper said.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to see what I see.”

“You’re standing right here.”

“Humor me.”

I lifted my phone high enough to cover most of my face and snapped one.

“Send it to me.”

I typed Piper’s number from memory.

Be honest. Do I look ridiculous in this? I feel like everyone is going to stare.

Send.

Piper’s phone didn’t ding.

I frowned.

“Did you get it?”

“No.”

I checked the number.

My stomach dropped.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Wrong number.”

Piper’s face lit up. “No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing.”

“How is this amazing?”

Three dots appeared.

“They’re answering.”

Piper moved closer.

UNKNOWN: Pretty sure this wasn’t meant for me.

“Kill me.”

“Absolutely not.”

Another message appeared.

UNKNOWN: But since you asked…

I stopped breathing.

UNKNOWN: If people stare, I promise it won’t be because you look ridiculous.

My face went hot.

Then another message appeared.

UNKNOWN: Whoever you’re hoping notices you would have to be an idiot not to.

Piper made a strangled sound beside me.

“What?”

She grinned.

“I think you just accidentally got flirted with.”

I stared at the screen.

And for the first time all day, somebody noticing me didn’t feel terrifying.