The One That I Want(20)
Author: Jennifer Echols

I also left out that I hadn’t informed Addison of my decision beforehand. When she’d found out I wasn’t in music comp with her like I usually was, she’d gotten mad.

“That’s good,” Max said.

“I hope. And I’m getting a lot of attention for dating Carter.”

Max stopped at an intersection and turned to face me. “What kind of attention?”

I shrugged. “You know.”

He continued to watch me, which was frustrating. Max had seemed like a person I didn’t have to explain things to. He usually knew what I meant, or acted like he did. That’s why he was fun to talk with. Now that he was pressing me to be specific, talking with him wasn’t fun. I racked my brain for an answer that wouldn’t be embarrassing.

There wasn’t one.

I said slowly, “Attention in general. I never got any before.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s just because I’m a majorette now, and I’m going out with the rival football team’s quarterback. It’s something for people to gossip about.”

In fact, I had heard a rumor that Robert had gotten jealous of Carter and was planning to ask me out. It hadn’t happened yet, but I had caught Robert staring at me a few times in band when I’d performed spin-turns he wasn’t expecting. Funny how I would have been so excited about that four months ago. I would have checked my cell phone twenty times a day, hoping he would text me. But after he’d been so unsupportive during majorette tryouts and spent a whole summer pretending I didn’t exist, I’d gotten to the point that I didn’t miss Robert at all.

And now that I’d met Max, it was difficult to remember why Robert had ever seemed like the perfect guy for me.

Just my luck.

“Are they gossiping about Addison going out with the rival football team’s kicker?” Max asked.

“Not so much,” I said truthfully. Addison had gotten mad about this, too. In fact, as we’d walked around school together, people had stopped to ask me about Carter a lot more than they’d talked to Addison about Max. She might be having second thoughts about which boy she’d chosen.

That was okay. Tonight she’d have a great time with Max. Carter could continue to test how long he could go without saying anything. Or anything nice. And Addison would realize that she’d chosen the better man after all.

Max was still frowning at me.

“Bless your heart.” I patted his bare knee playfully and tried to ignore the fact that his muscular leg was as hard as a rock. “I appreciate you, Max. I think you’re gossip-worthy. Now drive.”

Obediently he faced forward and accelerated through the four-way stop, but a worried crease remained between his brows. He was disturbed that Addison hadn’t gotten as much social mileage out of dating him as I’d gotten out of dating Carter. He should be disturbed. It served him right for asking her out instead of me, because I certainly wouldn’t have let something like that bother me if I were his date.

But I didn’t want to argue with Max all the way to the shopping center where we were meeting Addison and Carter. I should make polite conversation and ask Max how his first week of school was.

Before I could get the words out, he asked, “What made you decide to lose weight?”

Heat rushed to my face, as it always did when someone mentioned my weight. It took me a few seconds to remember that there wasn’t anything to feel self-conscious about now.

A second wave of blush hit my face as I realized why he was asking. He had met my mother. While I had lost weight, she had kept gaining. By now the contrast between us was getting pretty noticeable.

The silence had stretched so long that most people would backtrack and retract the question, thinking they had offended me. Not Max. He shot me a quick, expectant glance. I reminded myself that he was not Robert. Robert asked questions to embarrass me and put me in my place. Max asked questions because he liked me and was interested.

I swallowed. “Addison wanted to try out for majorette. She wanted me to do it too because she thinks she can’t do anything by herself.”

Okay, Max was my friend. He had not asked me out, but he didn’t mind spending time with me. I would ruin that if I kept taking potshots at his date, who was supposed to be my dearest compadre.

I cleared my throat. “I don’t know why Addison feels that way. Anyway, she said if I told her no, it would be because I didn’t want to be seen in the majorette uniform at that weight. So . . .”

Max was supposed to take that as my answer and change the subject. But he stayed quiet. He was telling me I wasn’t done.

And I realized that I wasn’t. “She’s made comments about how I looked the whole time we’ve been friends, as if I didn’t know how much I weighed and needed to have it pointed out.”

Great, I was insulting his date again. I backtracked, “Of course, she was only trying to help. And this time, something clicked with me. I didn’t want to wear the uniform. I didn’t even want to try out. So I lost some weight. I tried out. I made it. And then I really was going to have to wear the uniform, so I lost the rest of the weight.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Addison no?” Max asked.

It was a reasonable question. But I felt violated when he asked it, like he had stepped over a line between friendly conversation and invasion of privacy. I said, “I don’t tell Addison no.”

“Why not?”

Because she’s all I have.

I turned to the passenger window. We drove down a winding, tree-lined road with strictly manicured lush lawns on either side. There wasn’t much to hold my interest as silence filled the car. The radio tuned to Album 88 wasn’t loud enough to be distracting. Reaching down to turn up the volume would have seemed rude, something I would have done to escape an awkward silence with Carter. Not with Max.

“When are you going to stop?” Max asked.

When are you going to stop crushing on me? I went cold with panic. By degrees I realized that wasn’t what he was talking about. “When am I going to stop losing weight?” I guessed.

“Yes. Addison said you’ve already lost fifty pounds.”

“Forty-eight,” I said without thinking. I cringed internally. Thanks again, Addison, for putting the forty-eight-pounds-heavier Gemma into Max’s head! I said carefully, “I’m not judging by how much weight I’ve lost. I’m judging by the result.”

“I’m asking you about the result.” He glanced at me across the car, his long hair swinging into his eyes. He shook it away and said, “You’re not still trying to lose, are you? It seems like you’d just be maintaining at this point.”