I hate that I’m even thinking that. I hate hating my body. Actually, I don’t even hate my body. I just worry everyone else might.
Because chubby girls don’t get boyfriends, and they definitely don’t have sex. Not in movies—not really—unless it’s supposed to be a joke. And I don’t want to be a joke.
I’m not scheduled for work on Wednesday, so I end up tagging along with Cassie to Mina’s house. And it’s slightly weird, because Mina’s parents are home. I don’t mean that her parents are weird. They’re actually really cool. Mina’s mom is a psychiatrist, and her dad’s a psychologist, but they’re the type who don’t want to be called “doctor.” Especially her dad, who almost seems like a hippie. Which I didn’t expect from a guy in Bethesda named Eugene.
We end up making small talk in the kitchen. Mina’s mom pokes at something on the stove, while her dad flips through a stack of mail on the counter.
“Hey, I hear you live in Takoma Park,” he says. “I did my post-doc right near there.”
“And now they’re in private practice together,” Mina says. “Isn’t that so sweet?” She rolls her eyes.
But Cassie nods eagerly. “It is!”
Oh my goodness. She is sucking up to the parents, and she’s sucking hard.
“Do you have a specialty?” Cassie asks.
“A little bit,” Mina’s mom says. “We get most of our referrals through insurance, so we end up seeing a nice variety, but we work a lot with anxiety.”
“Nice,” Cassie says, beaming at me, as if to say HEY, MOLLY, YOU HAVE THAT. What a cool, totally-not-awkward coincidence.
“So, the guys are already downstairs,” Mina’s mom says, “but can I get you anything to eat? I’ve got an egg and ramen almost done here.”
“We’re good,” Mina says quickly.
“Or do you need some drinks to bring down there?”
For a minute, I think Mina’s mom means booze. Maybe they really are hippies. But then she opens the kitchen fridge and hands Mina a few bottled waters.
“Really nice to meet you, Molly,” she says. “I’m just so glad Mina’s made some more girlfriends.”
Oh. Okay. So, I don’t think Mina’s mom was using the word girlfriend in the my-daughter-makes-out-with-this-person way. Unless she thinks Mina’s actually dating both of us. Now I wonder if they even know Cassie’s more than a friend. I mean, I assumed Mina was out, but now I’m not sure. And I feel strange asking.
“What was your mom making?” asks Cassie as we follow Mina downstairs.
“Egg and ramen? Have you never had that?”
“Uh, no, but it sounds amazing.”
“Oh, it is.” Mina pauses at the bottom step to smile up at her. “I’ll make it for you someday.”
In the basement, the boys are absorbed in an old-school Nintendo game. Will’s perched on the love seat, jabbing a controller.
“Is this Mario?” I ask.
“Yes.” Will’s eyes never leave the game.
Don’t be careful. And don’t think about Reid.
I sink into the cushions beside him.
“He’s scary good at this,” Mina tells me.
Onscreen, Will’s Mario eats some kind of leaf, which turns into a raccoon. You have to wonder, sometimes, what these old-timey video game inventors were smoking.
I let myself zone out, watching Mario leap over cliffs and sink into pipes. Zoning out feels good. I just need to step outside myself for a minute. I feel so crowded in my head. I can’t seem to shake this perpetual awareness of being Molly.
Sometimes I’m a confusing person to be.
My phone buzzes with a text. Abby.
We got our plane tickets for the wedding! she tells me. And I’m bringing a plus one.
Nick’s coming? I write.
Yes!! AND HE’S GONNA WEAR A SUIT.
OMG, he doesn’t have to. He’ll be the only one, I say.
I don’t care, I want to see him in a suit. Are u bringing anyone? Winky emoji. Kissy-face emoji.
Why, yes, I write. If by “someone,” you mean eighty-four mason jars and a zillion buttercream cupcakes And a handmade fabric garland, I add.
Molly, u are pinterest af, she writes.
I grin at the screen of my phone. Why, thank you
But u should bring a date. You should ask Hipster Will.
God. I don’t know what made her latch onto that. Especially when I’ve been spending so much time thinking about Reid.
Reid’s rain-soaked glasses. Reid pushing my wet bangs out of my eyes.
“Who are you texting?” Cassie asks, from the couch. She’s lying with her head on the armrest and her feet in Mina’s lap, while Mina makes some pretty halfhearted efforts as Luigi.
“The fuck, Mina,” Will says. “You missed an extra life.”
Cassie sits up suddenly. “Are you texting Reid?”
“Wait, is this the Reid I know?” Max interjects, looking up from his phone. “Husky pants Reid?”
I feel my whole body burn. “I’m texting Abby!”
Her eyes narrow. “Why are you blushing?”
“Shut up.”
My phone buzzes again, and I glance at it.
I notice u’ve gone mysteriously silent. I also notice there are no objections to the Will idea, Abby says.
I OBJECT, I type quickly.
Too late. Smiley emoji.
I look up, and Cassie’s expression is unreadable.
Unreadable. Even to me.
REID TEXTS ME ON FRIDAY.
Hey, so my friend Douglas and I are going to Medieval Madness.
I write back, That’s awesome.
Want to come? Smiley emoji.
Oh.
My heart thuds. I’m so sorry. I can’t!
Oh, no problem, he writes.
I’m going to a party with Cassie and Mina
Three dots.
Oh, okay, he writes.
I’m sorry.
Why are you sorry?
I don’t know!
But I am. And it’s stupid, because God knows what Medieval Madness even is. Something where you drink from flagons, probably. And wear tunics. Something so Reid. I really shouldn’t care.
But I do care. It sort of ticks in the back of my mind all evening.
We Metro to Bethesda after dinner, and Mina picks us up from the station. She and Cassie kiss in the car. Just a quick kiss, like parents do. And it occurs to me, suddenly, why they call it the Kiss and Ride.
“So, Max’s parents aren’t home?” Cassie asks.
“Yeah, they travel a lot.”
“There aren’t going to be adults?” I blurt. I feel like I’m Xavier’s age.
“Well, his sister is eighteen,” Mina says, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “So, in the eyes of the law . . .”
Cassie twists around to grin at me. “Stop making the Molly Face.”
“I’m not,” I say, but my cheeks are warm. I shouldn’t be freaked out by the idea of a house party. It’s not like it’s an orgy. I don’t think it’s like an orgy.
Mina parks on the street, at the end of a long line of cars. I can’t believe how many cars there are. I have to admit, I had no idea house parties were even a thing. I fold my arms across my chest and try to act nonchalant.
But there’s something about tonight. Everything feels a little surreal. For one thing, it’s surprisingly chilly out. I’m actually wearing a jacket in July.
“Molly, you look so cute,” Mina says, putting an arm around my shoulders.
Which makes me blush.