“What is taking you guys so long?” she yelled. “Morgan, don’t lock the damn car.”
“It’s my car,” Morgan said, but not loud enough to be heard. She didn’t notice that Isabel’s window was down.
We walked across the dunes, following Isabel, who, as usual, didn’t wait. As my eyes adjusted I could make out groups sitting along the beach. I watched as Isabel smiled at certain people, a beer now dangling from one hand, the rest of the six-pack tucked under her arm. When we passed them, I saw each time that they were couples: a smiling guy and a girl who scowled at Isabel as she walked on.
Isabel kept on going, then finally dropped the six-pack on a small patch of empty sand. I could see bonfires all up and down the beach.
“Here we are,” she announced, sitting down as Morgan spread out the blanket. “Big social night in Colby.”
“Huge,” Morgan agreed, reaching over and helping herself to a beer. She glanced over my head, squinting, and said, “Hey, isn’t that Norman?”
It was. He was with a group of people sitting around a bonfire. Of course, he was wearing sunglasses: red ones with oval lenses. When he saw us he smiled and waved.
“Okay,” Morgan said in a low voice. “Incoming.”
“What?” I said.
“Shhh.”
Isabel took another sip of beer and threw her shoulders back. Then she acted surprised to see the guy with dark hair and a green plaid shirt who was suddenly standing on our blanket.
“Hey,” he said to her, taking what even I could tell was a quick mandatory glance over at me and Morgan. He had very white teeth. “Wanna sell me a beer?”
Isabel looked at her supply, then back at him. “I don’t know,” she said slowly.
“I promise I’ll drink it here,” he said, leaning down a little closer.
“Gag,” Morgan whispered to me. “Old line.”
“I don’t care where you drink it,” Isabel said simply. “I just don’t know if I want to give one up.”
“I’m worth it,” the guy said.
That made her smile. “Score,” Morgan whispered.
“We’ll see,” she said. And he sat down.
“I’m Frank,” he said.
“Isabel,” she replied. She still hadn’t give him a beer. “That’s Morgan, and that’s Colie.”
“Hi,” he said to us. But he only took his eyes off Isabel for a second.
Morgan sighed, taking another prim sip of beer. Then she looked up at the dark sky and said, “Fireworks should begin soon.”
“Hey, Colie,” Isabel called out. “Come here.”
I got up and went over. She cupped her hand around my ear and said, “Go back to the car and get my other six-pack, will you? It’s under the front seat.”
There was a crackling overhead, and everyone looked up. It was starting.
“Okay,” I said, standing up straight again. But she grabbed my shirttail and pulled me back down.
“Walk with your head up high,” she said quietly, firmly. “Shoulders back. Don’t smile. And don’t look at anyone. You’re gorgeous tonight, Colie. Show yourself off a little. Okay?”
“Whispering’s impolite,” Morgan said from the other side of the blanket.
“She’s going back to the car for me.”
As I walked, I could feel people looking at me. I didn’t have my lip ring or my long coat. I didn’t have my fat or even my tray and apron to hide behind. I had to fight to keep my head up, to not slouch, to shut out everyone around me.
Keep your head up. Shoulders back. Don’t smile.
I could hear myself breathing. I’d always stayed on the perimeter of crowds. But now, as I walked, I slowly gained confidence. There was nothing about me so grotesque or strange that it attracted attention. I blended in.
You’re gorgeous tonight, Colie. Show yourself off a little.
Could it have been this easy all along? Did I just need to lose weight, enlist the help of Revlon, Miss Clairol, and a wicked set of tweezers, and change my life forever?
I couldn’t believe it. If only I’d known, somehow, and found out sooner—
Suddenly someone bumped into me, hard, one of those jarring hits that you feel all the way down to your toes.
I stumbled, catching myself just before I fell completely. And I felt that familiar shame wash over me. I was a big, fat, ugly loser. I didn’t deserve to be pretty. Not even for a second.
“Oh, man,” I heard someone say. And then there was a hand on my arm. “Are you okay? Man.”
I looked up. There was a boy standing beside me—touching me—a cute boy with brown hair and brown eyes, in a white T-shirt and shorts. He had a drink in his hand, now spilled, and he looked worried.
“I’m okay,” I said. And I quickly straightened up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he smiled. “I’m, like, so clumsy.”
“It’s okay.”
He stood there, still smiling at me. This was new.
“Oh,” he said. “I’m Josh.”
“I’m Colie.”
“Hi, Colie.” Overhead, there was the first official bang, and a shower of red sparks falling. Everyone cheered. “You here with your family?”
“No, just some friends,” I said, nodding back toward Morgan and Isabel. I wondered if they were watching.
“Josh!” someone yelled from behind him. “Come on!”