In Every Way Read online

  No, thank you.

  I don’t take pictures of myself and I hate it when other people do. Grandma has so many family photos she’s taken over the years of me as a kid with my second-cousins. And then there are Christmas photos, and graduation photos and pictures of me on vacation. I look awful in every one.

  I’m pretty sure no one would follow a blog if the owner didn’t show themselves, so no matter how much I’d enjoy talking about book boyfriends, I’m not starting a blog.

  ***

  Julie eyes me from her side of the front counter at work. I set down my green smoothie and look over at her. “What?”

  “Remember the other day when you said you hate wearing jeans every day?”

  I nod. It was after Julie walked in wearing another bikini with a see-thru dress on top that I’d mentioned how I wish I could wear summer clothes. Julie had simply told me to wear them and I’d had to correct her, telling her I’m too big in all the wrong places for skimpy clothes.

  “Well,” Julie says, putting a finger to her lips. “I think you’d look great in Doxy leggings.”

  I scowl. “Ew. I’m too fat for leggings.”

  She scoffs. “No you’re not! Girl, everyone looks good in Doxy brand leggings! You should go down to Flora’s and tell her I sent you. She’ll hook you up with an employee discount.”

  I consider it for a moment. The leggings she’s talking about are all the rage right now. Multi colored and with fun patterns, it seems like every girl around is wearing them. Half the girls that come into Aiden Jane are wearing leggings like that, paired with a flowy tank top or an oversized T-shirt, or sometimes just a sports bra. Dressing comfortably is totally in style right now.

  But could I wear leggings?

  I’ve never even thought about it. Julie is waiting for an answer so I tell her what I’m honestly thinking. “Sure, I’ll go check them out. They have to be cooler than these jeans that are giving me a heat stroke.”

  Julie smiles. “I think you’ll feel confident in them, honey. Your jeans are too baggy and they aren’t helping your confidence at all.”

  I look down at my frumpy attire. My jeans are baggy, but that’s because I’m too embarrassed of people seeing my fat legs in tight pants. I also wear size large T-shirts everywhere because I’ve never bothered to try on a medium. It’s too scary.

  I look around, making sure we’re alone in the store before I say anything. “I guess my biggest fear is that I’ll try to look nice and I’ll fail miserably. I’d rather look frumpy than like an idiot.”

  “Honey, you won’t look like an idiot.” Julie smiles encouragingly. “You are a beautiful girl, and the more I’ve gotten to know you over the last few days, the more I worry about you. You’ve let your self-esteem slip too low. All you need is a boost and a good wardrobe fix and you’ll be smiling in no time.”

  I try to smile but it comes out unsure and awkward. I know she’s only trying to help, but putting makeup on a pig doesn’t turn it into a lioness. I should know.

  “I’ll try out your idea,” I say, trying to force myself to go along with it. I do have some money in the bank, after all. “Maybe I could go down there during my lunch break?”

  Julie beams. “Totally! I’m excited to see what you come back with. You’re going to look so cute!”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, letting sarcasm drip from my words. “Sure I will.”

  Chapter 9

  Another work day, another Bryce hanging around eating our snack food but not helping at all.

  “Dude, you should just get a job here,” I say for what’s probably the hundredth time this summer.

  “Shit, I’m not job material,” he says, tossing his head back to empty the last bits of chip crumbs into his mouth. “Your dad would hate me, and then our friendship would end.”

  “I can’t get rid of your friendship no matter how hard I try,” I say with a snort. It’s a Tuesday and the surf shop is surprisingly slow today. Normally days in summer are never slow, because all the college students have no responsibilities in the way. But the sky is a little cloudy, so I guess the surfers are staying home and the sun bathers have better things to do.

  I’m falling asleep behind the front counter when this girl walks into the shop. She’s around my age, cute, and with that nice girl look about her. You know—plain and simple. I like that look.

  “Good afternoon,” I say, perking up from behind the counter. “If you need any help, let me know.”

  “Okay, thank you,” she says with a friendly smile.

  Bryce must be thinking the same thing I am, because he leans over and whispers, “Pretty and nice.”

  “Number one and number two,” I whisper back, referring to my list of perfect girlfriend qualities. “It’s a good start.”

  He nudges me with his elbow. We’re both watching the girl peruse the purses, both trying to make it seem like we’re not watching her. “Go talk to her. She if she fits any more of them.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t hit on a customer.”

  Dad’s not here right now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t walk in at any second and berate me for doing just that. Bryce rolls his eyes. “Friendly talk isn’t hitting on someone.”

  “You go hit on her,” I say, not really meaning it, but I’m out of ways to tell him I won’t talk to her for fear of pissing off my dad. My brain isn’t exactly great at coming up with stellar and witty replies.

  Bryce curls his lip, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s too cutesy. I like them sluttier.”

  If Colby were here, he’d even the score, tell Bryce to shut his pie hole. But he’s not, so I let his dumbass comments go.

  This morning, Maddie posted some photos of their trip to Madrid online. They seem like they’re having a great time, but I’m so ready for my best friend to come back. Bryce helps kill the boredom, sure, but it’s hard not constantly strangling him.

  My phone buzzes, pulling me from my daydream about vacationing in a foreign land.

  Jenny: What’s up hottie?

  I heave a sigh that’s so great it can probably be heard across the Atlantic Ocean. “Uh oh,” Bryce says, leaning over to look at my phone. “Is it her again?”

  I nod. “She won’t go away. I need to call the phone company again and make them block her number. I don’t care how long they make me wait on hold.”

  The pretty girl finally chooses a purse, and brings it up to the counter. I shove my phone back in my pocket, promising myself to call and have Jenny’s number blocked as soon as possible.

  “Did you find everything you need?” I ask, trying to remember all of the items on my girlfriend list.

  She nods. “Seeing as how I didn’t exactly need a purse, I found more than I need.”

  I laugh. “Hey, that’s good for business.”

  She smiles, and digs around in her old purse for her wallet while I ring up her purchase. From a few feet over, I can tell Bryce is burning a hole in my back with how hard he’s watching me, waiting for me to make a move on her. But I won’t. Not on the first day she stops by; it’s unprofessional and just creepy. Maybe if she comes back soon to shop again, I’ll talk to her more. Start up a friendship, that kind of thing.

  “Thirty-two sixteen,” I say, putting her purchase into a Flying Mermaid shopping bag.

  She hands me her credit card, and that’s when I see the giant sparkling diamond on her left ring finger.

  Damn.

  Looks like it’s back to square one in the girl department, as always.

  For the next couple of hours, the rest of the girls that stop into the store are more of the party-girl variety that Bryce prefers. This makes him leave the counter, and hang out in the store where he won’t be mistaken for an employee. I turn up the house music a little louder in an effort to drown out the sound of his ridiculously awful flirting. So far, none of the girls have fallen for it, although they all looked flattered that he took the time to hit on them.

  I busy myself by organizing some of the crap be
hind the counter and then cleaning the glass surfaces of our display cases with a bottle of knock-off brand Windex. Slow days are the worst because the hours seem to drag on. Luckily, the sun comes out around three p.m. so the day isn’t so gloomy anymore. I might even go surfing when I get off work, finally giving into the call of the ocean that’s been poking at me all day.

  That’s the bad thing about working on the beach. You can’t go to the beach until your shift is over.

  The other crappy part of my day is that once the sun comes out, the customers start flowing in like they’re making up for all the time they missed during the cloudy weather. I don’t get a single free moment to call my phone company, and because of this, Jenny is still texting me like a crazy person.

  When Officer Pearson comes into the shop to buy some more wax for his surf board, I get an idea.

  “Hey, Officer?” I ask, while I ring up his purchase. He’s friends with my family, so I feel comfortable going to him with my little problem. “I have a problem I was wondering I could talk to you about.”

  “You in trouble?” he says with a little laugh, probably because he knows me so well he knows I wouldn’t break the law if I could help it.

  I shake my head. “I went on one date with this girl,” I begin.

  Officer Pearson bursts into a belly laugh which makes me nervous. “Oh man, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear this.”

  I chew on my bottom lip, and take out my phone. “I didn’t like her and I tried to politely tell her that, but she won’t stop texting me. It’s annoying as hell, but she also knows where I work, so now I’m kinda freaking out.”

  I hand him my phone and watch his features pull together as he scrolls down the messages. His eyes widen. “Holy shit, kid.”

  His thumb flies across my screen, scrolling through the hundreds and hundreds of messages she’s left me in just a few days’ time.

  “This is harassment.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I’m going to block her number, but what if she won’t stop coming by the store?”

  “You know where she lives?” he asks me, handing my phone back. “First and last name?”

  I give him the information and he writes it down on a little notepad he keeps in the front pocket of his uniform shirt. Near the rack of sunglasses, Bryce is leaning against the wall, trying embarrassingly hard to get the attention of this girl who’s shopping with her little brother. Officer Pearson takes one look at Bryce, rolls his eyes, and then looks back at me.

  “I’ll have a talk with her, tell her the legal repercussions of harassing and stalking someone. Usually a visit from the police is all someone needs to calm down but if not, you give the station a call and ask for me. We’ll press charges on her.”

  “I don’t want to take it that far,” I say, running a hand down my face. Pressing charges? That would suck for her, but . . . maybe she deserves it if she doesn’t learn to chill out. Still, I’d feel bad. “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” I say with a sigh.

  Officer Pearson shakes his head. “I don’t think it will. Cell phones make teenagers insane these days. All this instant communication really gets to them and they don’t realize how annoying they’re being, you know?”

  “Yeah,” I say nodding my head. That’s exactly the reason I have number four and number five on my list of girlfriend requirements. I’m so sick of cell phones running people’s lives. I just want to be real with someone, be in the present with them and share our lives together in person, not via a freaking cell phone.

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.

  “No problem, son. That’s literally my job,” he says with a little laugh before he leaves.

  When he’s gone, and the girl looking at sunglasses clearly doesn’t care about Bryce’s sexual stares at her, Bryce abandons his post and comes back to see me.

  “Dude, you’re having the cops visit that Jenny girl?”

  I shrug. “There’s really nothing else I can do besides keep being harassed by her nonstop. She’s sent me fifty texts in the last half hour.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I feel you. That sucks, though.”

  I nod, looking back out the big bay window of the shop that overlooks the beach. “Tell me about it.”

  Chapter 10

  We end up getting really busy during lunch time so I don’t go down to Julie’s friend’s shop until I get off work. Luckily, the shop is open until nine at night so there’s plenty of time to get there.

  Not that I’m looking for excuses not to go . . .

  But maybe I am.

  I mean, I want to try something new and get new clothes and see if Julie’s advice really works. But I also like the status quo of just wearing my boring clothes and not worrying about it. The worst thing I can imagine is having to wake up and spend hours looking for the perfect clothing to wear to try and impress people I don’t even care about.

  But . . . I want a boyfriend. I want a happy life. I want confidence, even if I think it’s a lost cause to even try. But Julie says I’ll look good in those stupid Doxy leggings, so I at least owe it to myself to try, no matter how stupid I feel. Right?

  I sling my purse over my shoulder, tell Julie goodbye, and walk nervously down the strip. When I see Flora’s, I almost turn around and walk as fast as I can back to my car. But instead of running like a coward, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I stop in front of the shop, and stare at myself in the reflection of the super clean glass windows. I could use a makeover, that’s for sure.

  Dawn is the owner of Flora’s and she knows who I am the second I walk through the door. I guess Julie called and warned her that I’d be coming.

  “You must be Bess!” she says, clapping her hands together in front of her chest like she’s just thrilled to meet a new client she can style into perfection.

  “That’s me,” I say with a smile that I hope seems genuine. I’m actually scared out of my mind to be here right now, if I’m being honest. But I suck it up because sometimes things that are good for you are really hard to do. It’s like when parents give their kids shots or take them to the dentist. It’s for their own good.

  So maybe stepping far out of my comfort zone and getting some bright new clothes to look better will be for my best interest, no matter how much it hurts while it’s happening.

  “Julie told me about leggings?” I say, sounding like some kind of absolute cavewoman. What is wrong with me? I get so nervous sometimes that only nonsense comes out of my mouth in ways I can’t help. No, How are you? I’d like to look at your clothing, or Could you please show me your leggings?

  Nope. Just stupid drivel.

  “You okay, hun?” Dawn says, walking around a rack of foam flip flops that are all covered in hundreds of rhinestones sparkling under the bright lights. We have those same shoes at Aiden Jane, but she has a bigger variety here.

  She’s a plump woman, kind of a mixture between me and Grandma. She’s bigger than I am, but smaller than Grandma, and she wears her weight well because she doesn’t look awful. She actually looks cute.

  I bite on the inside of my lip. I wonder if it’s because of her clothing. She’s wearing a pair of the Doxy leggings in teal with gold chevron stripes, and a black shirt that’s flowy and has little rhinestone decoration along the neckline.

  “I’m fine,” I say, forcing another smile. Then a little voice in my mind tells me to get over myself and be honest. That’s the only way to actually make a difference in your life, after all. “Actually,” I say, scratching my neck. “I’m a little nervous.”

  Dawn’s eyes widen and she grabs my hand, pulling it into both of hers. “Oh, honey. No need to be nervous. Julie told me you’re having a little confidence issue, but we’re going to get you all fixed up, okay?” She releases her grip on my hand and runs her fingers along my cheek. It’s kind of weird for a stranger to touch me like this, but the way she does it sets me at ease.

  “You’re a beautiful girl, Bess. Yo
u just need a little makeover in the clothing department.”

  I nod, and I don’t know why this happens, but warm tears flood to the corners of my eyes. Stupid, Bess. Stop being so emotional!

  Dawn stands tall and gives me this serious look. “Now, before we start, I need you to promise me you’ll trust my styling judgement. Okay?”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay. I trust you.”

  ***

  Two hours later, I’m swiping my debit card for a purchase of five hundred and sixty dollars. It’s not Dawn’s fault though, because not only did she give me a forty percent discount, which saved me a ton of money, she repeatedly told me I didn’t need to buy so much if I didn’t want to. But I shook my head and demanded to get nearly one of everything she had me try on.

  The woman is a genius.

  “Us curvy women need to dress for our shape,” she’d said as she tossed me a pair of leggings and an off-the-shoulder top over the door of the fitting room. “That’s how you look like your sexiest self.”

  Boy, was she right.

  I’ve never before felt the way I did as I looked at myself in the tall mirrors of the fitting room. I wasn’t a super model or anything, but I looked . . . nice. These leggings really are a miracle.

  They come in all kinds of colors and patterns, some long and some capri length. There are some for working out and others that are a little dressy which you can pair with heels and a long shirt that’s pretty much a dress. They’re all so beautiful and many of them have glitter or sparkles, which until now, I had no idea I loved.

  I also got a few pairs of ballet flats and flip flops. My usual baggy T-shirt and baggy jeans with sneakers fad is officially over. I’ve never felt more feminine or happy about myself in my whole life.