Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“How about you watch where you’re going next time?” says another familiar voice. “Or is the hallway not big enough for you?” Nate, Crystal’s garbage-human boyfriend, glares down at me, his thin upper lip raised in contempt.
“Nate, let’s just go,” Crystal murmurs, lightly pressing into his side to urge him along.
I don’t say anything as I meet his disdainful stare with one of my own. He scoffs in my direction before walking away with Crystal, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing her against him. Her steps falter at the movement, but she doesn’t pull away.
My fingers tighten on the straps of my backpack as I watch them go.
Even though I only had a second to look at her face, I can tell that Crystal doesn’t look good. Her once bright eyes seem to have lost their sparkle, and her cheekbones look more prominent than I remember. Even her clothes seem to hang a bit loosely on her, not that form-fitting attire was ever her style.
Some of the tension leeches from my body as they round the corner. I haven’t seen either of them in a while, not since the night Nate utterly destroyed my friendship with Crystal. I figured things would be awkward the next time we ran into each other, but I didn’t realize how nerve-wracking it would be to see Crystal again.
Crystal and I met two years ago, when we were both freshmen, in our Intro to Nutrition class. We were sitting next to each other, and she leaned over as soon as the lecture started and nervously asked if I had an extra pen. She was so anxious for the first day of classes that she’d left her pencil case in her dorm room. I gave her my spare pen, and we became fast friends after that, first pairing up for group projects and then getting together outside of class. We signed up to be roommates our sophomore year, cementing our friendship even further. She helped me stay on task during midterms and finals, and I encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone at least once a month.
But then Crystal started dating Nate.
Everything seemed fine at first; Crystal was smitten, and from the stories she told me, he seemed like a nice guy. She’d come home from their dates with a big smile on her face, looking so darn happy. I was happy for her.
And then I actually met the guy and my opinion of him made a swift U-turn.
I couldn’t understand how someone as sweet and thoughtful as Crystal would fall for a sleazeball like Nate Whitney. There’s no denying that he’s hot, if you’re into stereotypical frat boys. But his good looks take a backseat to his horrible personality the second he opens his mouth.
The first thing he ever said to me was, “You’re Crystal’s best friend?” When I asked what he meant by that, he elaborated, “I mean, I guess every hot girl needs a less-hot friend to stand next to.”
Of course, he waited until Crystal was out of earshot to say that last part. And I was so taken aback by his flagrant douche-baggery that I couldn’t drum up a cleverer response than, “Go fuck yourself, frat boy.”
He smirked and replied, “That’s what I have Crystal for,” and I threw up in my mouth a little.
To be clear, I couldn’t care less that Nate didn’t find me attractive, and I’ll be the first to point out that Crystal is adorable. She’s like a sugarplum fairy brought to life, slim and graceful, though she insists she’s average-looking at best. A younger version of me might have been jealous of her fast metabolism and small frame, but I’ve spent years learning to love my body the way it is. I’ve worked through enough of my own self-doubt and insecurity to where I can say I’m beautiful because of my curvy hips and soft stomach, not in spite of them.
Needless to say, Nate’s attempt to body shame me had me seething. When I told Crystal what her boyfriend had said to me, she balked with genuine horror.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way,” she insisted. “He sometimes says things without thinking. I’m so sorry, Skye.”
Crystal’s apology was the only one I ever received. Though I couldn’t stand the guy, I agreed to give him another chance, for Crystal’s sake. I learned quickly that Nate’s lack of a filter extended far beyond fat shaming. He had an insult for everyone who didn’t meet his arbitrary standards—and Crystal, in all her beauty, wasn’t spared his criticism. If anything, she bore the brunt of it in the form of subtle digs and snide remarks about her food and clothing choices.
Whenever I tried to bring up Nate’s behavior, she’d change the subject. We argued constantly. Our friendship suffered. Then it all came to a head at one of Nate’s frat parties.