A Curvy Carol (A Curvy Girl Christmas #2)

22. Whit

22

WHIT

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I’d never expected Carolynn to find out about her parents paying me.

But the thing was, I’d never seen it as getting paid to hang out with her. Just a chance to go see my friends.

Our arrangement had been as much for me as it had been for her. But she had found out and clearly assumed the worst—that what we shared didn’t matter to me at all. Desperation drove me to think of a way to clear this up and get back to what we had before. I missed her, but even worse than missing her was seeing her in this much pain.

“How could you do this to me?” she asked, hurt shining in her pretty blue eyes. “I trusted you.”

“Carolynn,” I tried, my voice low. “It’s not what you think. It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it then?” she said, anger in her voice. Clearly, she was trying to keep her voice down too. “Please explain, because I hate feeling like this.”

But I struggled to find the right words. “My parents, they wanted me to make some friends,” I began.

“But you weren’t interested,” she accused, voice shaking. “Is that why my parents paid you?”

“It’s been hard here for me, living in Garland but finishing my classes at my old school online. Honestly, I would have hung out with you for free just to not be by myself for a little bit. But then they offered to pay me before I could even say that,” I told her. “I thought I could use the money to visit my friends during spring break because I miss them so much. But after I got to know you, I turned it down. I didn’t care about the money.”

“You turned it down?”

I nodded.

She shook her head, keeping her voice almost in a whisper. “It doesn’t matter. You lied to me. You should’ve told me the truth from the beginning.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked away. Even so, I saw the tears in her eyes.

My heart sank.

A few people nearby were starting to stare at us, but I tried to keep my attention on Carolynn. The last thing I needed was to get kicked out again by Scrooge. Although, if I were him, I’d probably do the same thing if I saw some bozo making Carolynn cry.

“You’re right,” I replied. “I should’ve just been upfront about it. But be honest. Would you have stuck around?”

She turned to me, fire in her gaze.

“Or would you have refused?”

The embers in her eyes simmered down just a bit.

“This wasn’t just me in it for the money, Carolynn. I needed this. You. I’ve had nobody here,” I went on. “If I had to do it again, I wouldn’t have even taken the stupid money.”

She wiped at her eyes quickly, and I wished in that moment I could just take her hand and comfort her.

“I get that,” she sniffed, “but the worst part of all of this was finding out the way I did. Being in the dark like an idiot when all of you knew. Finding out our friendship was based on a lie. It makes me wonder if anything you said to me was true.”

I opened my mouth, unsure of what I could say to that, but then she got up and said, “I need to go.”

She dropped a few bills on the table and left the restaurant, hurrying down the sidewalk.

Instead of chasing her, I let her go, knowing it would do no good to go after her. She didn’t want to be near me anymore, and I had to respect that. Even if I hated it.

Even if it killed me that things between us were probably over for good. After all, it was my fault for not just telling her what was in it for me, when I knew all along what was in it for her.

I sank like a snowman after a day in the sun, staring at the table in front of me and then glancing around. The people in a booth nearby hastily went back to eating.

I sighed, wondering how I was ever going to get out of this mess. I’d already tried explaining to Carolynn how I felt, but it was no use.

Now I’d lost my only friend and the girl I was so crazy about. I was hoping to ask her to be my girlfriend on New Year's Eve at the party she told me about.

Scrooge came over to the booth, and I thought for sure he was going to kick me out. Instead, he started picking up Carolynn’s plate and drink.

“You know,” he said, not making eye contact, just continuing about his cleanup, “The people who take the longest to let someone in are really the ones who have the hardest time getting hurt.”

I stared up at him. I hadn’t ever heard him string that many words together, and I definitely hadn’t been expecting him to say something so deep. “What do I do?” I asked him.

“She let you in,” he said. “She got hurt. Now you need to find a way to make it right.” He sauntered off with the plates, and I was left there on my own.

I let out a frustrated sigh. I’d tried to make things right already.

But as I got up and left the diner, I wondered… was there another way?