CHAPTER 15
Palmer
One thing no one ever mentioned about this whole ho phase thing is the shitty comments some men will make about a big girl.
Maybe that’s because they didn’t figure a fat girl would partake.
Figures.
One of the guys I was talking to had been really flirty and charming via text message, but when we met in person, he would hardly look me in the eye. When we parted ways at the coffee shop, he had high fived me, saying, “Yep. Uhhh, have a good night.”
More than once over the course of the evening, I had caught him looking me over, top to bottom, then away in disgust, so I had more than an inkling of an idea why he was being so weird.
Thirty minutes later, he managed to text me to say he just didn’t really think that I was his type, “because being healthy is really important to me and a big part of my life. I think you’re really cool, but I just didn’t think you were as…
uh… big as you are. So, uh, yeah. You’re cool though. ”
I have become well-versed enough in the language of being a big girl: “you’re cool though” always equals “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole,” so I figure that’s why Bailey doesn’t ask me for my number or to hang out or anything beyond the flirty banter we share when we’re forced to be in proximity to each other.
I’m “cool” but really, I’m just fat.
While I would like to think that my size doesn’t bother me, the fact that other people feel qualified to comment on it does.
It’s almost enough to stop using the apps, but I’m bound and determined to have this ho phase, whether it wants to have me or not.
If they don’t want me, then they’re not someone I want.
And then there’s Bailey.
Probably the hottest man I’ve ever flirted with, is willing to help around the house, loves his family, does things that I like to do, willingly came to cheer practice just because I asked him to, and wants to come again.
He kissed me.
And what did I do? Stared at him, jaw gaping like a fish out of water, said literally nothing, then drove off into the night like I’m fucking Cinderella or something and he’s going to chase me down the street.
Like an idiot.
I’m sorry, but who does that?
I’m over here wanting to have a ho phase, wishing men would throw themselves at me, but then when they do, I don’t know what to do about it. All I know is that if I get that chance again, I am not going to waste it.
No more imagining Bailey fucking me. Only experiencing it in the flesh.
I’m eating lunch on Wednesday with a couple of my paras behind my locked classroom door, regaling them with my hook-up tales, when my phone dings with a message from one of the dating apps. I unlock my screen and open the app, only to be greeted by an uncomfortably familiar face.
Clay’s best friend.
JMan6969: hey pj.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Cindy lifts her head from her sandwich, her silver brows disappearing into her hair. “What?”
I struggle to find my words, my stomach twisting into the worst kind of knots. “Uh, Clay’s best friend, Jared, just messaged me on Swipe.”
All of the ladies begin to murmur, asking a million questions.
“Clay, as in your ex?”
I nod.
I don’t know why he’s messaging me. I don’t think it would be Clay using his account to fuck with me, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Against my better judgement, I answer.
PJminustheB: Hey.
JMan6969: How you been?
How have I been? Just cheated on and fucking more people than I ever have in my life, but other than that, pretty good. I settle on:
PJminustheB: Okay. What’s up?
JMan6969: I heard what happened with you and Clay. It’s fucked up.
To say the least.
PJminustheB: You could say that.
JMan6969: Look I’ve known Clay a long time, and I love him like a brother, but he is not a good guy. Not to women anyway.
JMan6969: He never has been.
PJminustheB: Thanks. It’s been rough but I’m figuring it out.
JMan6969: Im sorry he did that to you.
JMan6969: I have something I wanted to ask you. Like it came to me when I saw your picture. It’s kind of a proposition actually if youre interested. But I should warn you. It’s pretty fucked up.
PJminustheB: Lay it on me.