I crouched before Buzzy.
I touched her shoulders. “You’re not going to like this… and it might be the worst thing to say…”
“What?” Buzzy asked.
“You are not fat,” I whispered. “You are not big. Too big. You are perfect the way you are. Some people are tall. Some are short. Some are naturally skinnier than others. Some are curvier than others. Every girl… woman… everyone has their own… shape…”
“Screw this,” Miss Crabapple groaned. “I’m a dying woman over here. I don’t have time to waste. Buzzy. You look at me. Right now.”
Buzzy turned her head. “I’m looking.”
“If a boy wants to say something like that, it means he’s the one who has the problem. Not you. And don’t you dare change who you are for someone else. Ever. Tell me you hear that.”
“I hear it,” Buzzy said.
“Now get my damn cane,” Miss Crabapple said.
“Let’s not,” I said.
“I’ll go to jail for you, Buzzy,” Miss Crabapple said.
Buzzy smiled. “Thanks.”
“We’re not beating up Oliver,” I said. “He’s the one who has to live with what he said. And you know what, Buzzy? He wants you to react. So don’t. Don’t give that slimeball a second of your time. Got it? You go to school tomorrow as you always do. You are perfect and you are beautiful. And listen to what Miss Crabapple said. Don’t ever change who you are for someone.”
“You wouldn’t change for that boy you liked?” Buzzy asked, referring to Liam.
“No,” I said. “Never.”
Then again, if I had to be honest with myself…
When it came to Liam all those years ago…
I would have done anything to get closer to him.
I didn’t sleep well, which meant my morning was as busy as ever.
Miss Crabapple didn’t look well the night before. She was tired, in pain, and mad about what happened with Buzzy. Buzzy said to me she was okay, but I knew better. She was thirteen and just had a boy she liked tell other people he felt she was fat.
What a little prick…
And then there was the Miranda thing hanging over my head.
My distraction was the bakery.
I got there on time and put myself to work.
The more I moved, the less I thought.
I helped Ember get the kitchen set up until she gently pushed me out of the way, fearing my baking skills would kill the business. Which they totally would.
Behind the counter, Lucy ran the register and I prepped the orders.
Time just kept moving along.
Right up until Lucy let out a psst sound and nodded to the front door.
Miranda came through and waved at me with a big smile on her face.
I took my apron off and met her halfway across the bakery.
“Hey!” Miranda yelled at me.
Then she hugged me.
“Morning,” I said. “Or… afternoon. I don’t even know what time it is right now.”
Miranda laughed. “Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
“Are we good for what I said…?”
“Your wedding?”
“Yeah.”
“Miranda…”
“Come on,” she said. “Don’t get all whatever on me.”
“Meaning?”
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re judging me.”
“Not judging,” I said. “It’s your wedding.”
“See, that’s the thing. I trust you. And I trust Liam. You two can get stuff done while I’m in Boston. It’s perfect. Look, I don’t want to do this.”
“So you want me to pick out the flowers for your wedding?” I asked.
“At least get ideas,” she said. “You’re kind of… like a buffer for me. Look at flowers. Try some food. Get me a shortlist of things. That’s what I need. I can’t stand this idea of making ten thousand decisions based on ten thousand things. It’s just not my style right now. I don’t have time for it.”
And I do? I’m just trying to keep this business from failing…
“What do you say?” Miranda asked. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot last night. I was way too excited. I shouldn’t have done that. I kind of pictured you and Liam jumping at it together. You’re old friends, you know? You can catch up again.”
“I mean, you’re okay with this?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “I just explained why. I just want to be excited for Boston and focus there. This is such a big deal for me. I feel like nobody cares.”
“I care,” I said. “I do. I’m happy for you. You want this and you’re getting it.”
“So you’ll help Liam?” Miranda asked.
“Sure,” I said. “I’d love to. Nothing to worry about.”
Miranda hugged me again.
Then she jumped back. “Gotta go. Have a few things to finish up and then I’m packing for my flight in the morning. Just get in touch with Liam whenever you want.”
She took out her phone and started to make a call.
I stood in the middle of the bakery and took a deep breath.
I always envisioned picking out my own wedding flowers.
But to do that, I needed someone to marry.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam
I felt the pretzel hit me right in the forehead.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the bowl in front of me and threw it at Jackson as hard as I could.
He swatted it away as Cole and Lincoln jumped back.
They both started to laugh as Jackson karate chopped pretzels out of the air.
“Hey,” Jackson said. “You can go after me, but not here…” He pointed to his face. “Or here…” He pointed between his legs.
“Why are you throwing food at me?” I asked.
“It’s bar pretzels,” Jackson said. “It’s hardly considered food. You’re sitting there like someone just told you your cat died.”
“I don’t even have a cat,” I said.
Jackson snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “Exactly. No pussy. We need to fix that.”
“Give it up, man,” Cole said.
“He won’t,” I said.
“She’s gone,” Jackson said.
“She’s on a business trip,” I said.
“Wait, I’m lost,” Lincoln said.
“Miranda went to Boston,” I said. “For a conference and possibly some interviews.”
“Shit, are you leaving the city?” Cole asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t picture it. But… who knows…”
“And we’re out tonight to have a little fun,” Jackson said. “Let’s throw some darts. Pick a fight. Get drunk. Come on…”
I looked at Cole and Lincoln.
They shrugged their shoulders.
I stood up and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt.
I slammed my hand to the bar and whistled for the big boobed bartender wearing the low-cut top.