Weightless (2 page)

“Do you want him back?”

I blanched. “What?”

“You heard me. Do you want him back?”

“I don’t really think that’s an option, Mom,” I mumbled, picking at the already chipping gold nail polish on my thumbnail. I wanted to peel every last inch of that high school off of me forever, including the forest green and gold colors I had sported so spiritually every year of my life. “He’s…” I paused, crossing my arms tight over my chest. “He’s not available anymore.”

Her face softened and she moved closer to me, reaching out to place a hand on my leg again. I didn’t pull away this time. “Oh sweetie, you give up too easily. If you want him, fight for him.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Mom. This isn’t a Rom Com.”

“I’m serious,” she said, lowering her head and forcing me to meet her bright blue eyes. They were so different from my own chocolate ones. I assumed I had my father’s eyes, though I couldn’t be sure. He was around for a total of ten months of my life and I’d never seen so much as a picture of him. Not that I ever asked to see one — Dale was the only father I needed as far as I was concerned. “You know what the best revenge is after a break-up, right?”

I lifted a brow, clearly not versed in the subject. At all. Mason was the only boyfriend I had ever had. I was going through my first break-up, my first heartache, and all I knew was that it hurt like hell and eating on the couch seemed like a perfectly fine way to spend my summer — especially the summer after I graduated high school. I just had two and a half months to make it through and then I’d be gone, anyway.

Maybe.

If I could decide what I wanted to do with my life, that is.

Or maybe I’d still be right here, on this couch, eating Oatmeal Cream Pies.

Mom stood, pulling me up with her to give me the answer to her question. “Looking drop-dead gorgeous the next time he sees you. And if you can score some man-candy to tote you around, that helps, too.”

She winked and I scoffed. “Yeah well, I don’t think that plan is going to work in my case,” I pointed out, gesturing to my body with an open hand. Sure, I had long, thick, dark blonde hair and skin that easily tanned in the southern sun, but I was a size fourteen. And everyone in my circle of friends, including Mason’s new…
thing
, was a size four or smaller. It wasn’t that I was ever really confident, but before graduation, I hadn’t really thought that much about my size — at least, not enough to care. Whether because of Dale’s money or stature, I had always been a part of the “in” crowd, and I never had to try to be anyone I didn’t want to be. I was shy, quiet, but fun once I opened up. At least, that’s what I liked to think.

“Well, I have an idea that might change your mind. But you have to promise you’ll hear me out before you say yes or no.”

I crossed my arms again. “This doesn’t sound good.”

“Just listen,” she insisted, holding out her hands. I was already skeptical, given that my mom’s ideas usually involved retail therapy or traveling. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with either at the moment. “There’s this personal trainer at the country club. He’s completely transformed at least a dozen of the women members. I swear, the guy has a gift. And I know if you would give him a chance, he would be able to help you look and feel amazing.”

“A trainer? Really, Mom?” I shook my head, turning toward my bedroom. I was doing my best to seem annoyed, but in reality, it stung a little hearing my mom essentially say that I needed to hit the gym. “Not happening.”

“Just try it,” she pleaded behind me. “Just for a week or two. If you hate it, you can quit.”

“Maybe I like being fat,” I threw behind me, still stomping toward my room. “Ever think of that?” I knew I was being dramatic, but I was still clinging to my adolescence and using it as an excuse to act as desperate as I felt.

“At least promise me you’ll think about it, Natalie.” She sighed, pleading again. “You’re not fat and you know I don’t think that. I’m just trying to help you look and feel your best.”

I paused at the bottom of the staircase, looking back at my beautiful mother. Shiny blonde hair, thin frame, high cheekbones. She had always been gorgeous, it had always been easy for her, and maybe part of me resented her for it. Maybe I was jealous. Maybe I was in denial, thinking my weight didn’t matter. Maybe I was just deathly afraid I’d fail. Regardless, I nodded, promising to think about it, but I knew I would never set foot in the gym at the Poxton Beach Country Club.

Mom seemed satisfied with my promise. She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her again. “Mason is a great kid. He’s from a good family, and he’s going places. Don’t give him up so easily.”

I didn’t get the chance to respond because Willow bounded through the front door, pulling a glittery purple suitcase behind her. “Alright, where is she?”

I groaned, my right hand hitting my forehead with a slap before I dragged it down over my face. Mom chuckled.

Willow and I had been best friends since kindergarten, and she was the kind of friend who took charge. This was the first break-up I’d experienced in our thirteen years of friendship and she’d jumped into action as soon as it happened. If I couldn’t get my parents off my back about binge-eating my summer away, there was no way I could escape Willow.

Her deep brown eyes found me on the foot of the staircase and she smiled, white teeth bright against her dark skin. “There you are. Okay, here’s the deal.” She yanked her suitcase up the first stair when she reached me and kept heaving it up, talking through labored breaths. “We’re going to get you all dressed up.” Another stair. “I’m doing your hair and makeup,” she exhaled, still tugging. “We’re going to go out to Hay Stacks tonight, and you’re going to show Mason what he’s missing.”

“That sounds like a really terrible idea,” I assessed, leaning back on the stair railing and watching her struggle. It was comical really, her slim frame lugging a glittery piece of luggage at least twice her size. “What do you have in there, anyway?”

“Just the essentials. Now come on, you need to find your cutest pair of boots.”

I scrunched my nose but Mom placed a dainty hand on my shoulder, reassuring. “She’s right, honey. Just get all prettied up and go have some fun.”

“Being around Mason sounds far from fun.” Willow and Mom both sighed together, which made me chuckle and throw up my hands. “Ugh! Fine. But if tonight sucks, I get to spend my entire Sunday on that couch with Josh Holloway.” I pointed my finger up at Willow first before turning back to my mom. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Willow answered quickly from the top of the stairs, bending down to grip her knees and catch her breath. I cocked a brow at mom, who was chewing her lip, but finally she nodded.

“Okay. Tonight will be great, so I don’t have to worry about it.”

“Mm hmm.”

I drug myself up the stairs unwillingly and followed Willow back to my bedroom. She already had the suitcase open on my bed with everything inside it sprawled out on the white and gray comforter. I fell face-first onto the puffy goose down comforter and sighed, letting my hot breath warm the cool fabric.

“You have ten minutes to mope before I start curling your hair,” Willow said, popping into my bathroom to plug in her iron. She brought a small makeup mirror, too, which was smart because she knew I didn’t have any in my room or bathroom.

I never was a fan of mirrors. I didn’t particularly like to stare at myself, especially since I could look down at my body and see quite enough.

Willow sat down next to me, braiding her hair over her shoulder before placing a hand on mine. “Talk to me.”

I sighed again. “Mom is disappointed I lost Mason.”

As much as it stung, it made sense. After all, his family was one of the most well off in Poxton Beach other than ours. He was heading to college in a couple of months to take the same path to being a lawyer as his father did. And after graduation, he’d be right back here in Poxton Beach until the day he died. To my mom, that sounded like the ideal situation for my future marriage.

But I didn’t care about any of that.

What I did care about was that Mason would no longer be kissing me. He wouldn’t be holding my hand as we walked the beach with our friends. He wouldn’t brush my hair behind my ear or wrestle me for the remote on a Friday movie night at my place. I may not have agreed with my mom about
why
I should be with Mason, but we did both feel the same. I wasn’t the same without him — that much I could tell in just the week it had been since he broke up with me. For the first time, I was trying to figure out who I was as a solo entity, as Natalie Poxton without Mason Carter as my boyfriend. And I was failing.

“She’s not disappointed, Natalie, she’s sad for you. We all are. Which is why I’m going to get you super dressed up and take you out to show him what he’s giving up.”

“I think he knows.”

She sighed. “Do you really not want to go?”

Chewing my lip, I thought hard about her question. Did I want to see Mason? Of course. Still, my stomach felt like it was being squeezed by Hulk fists anytime I thought about it. Because if I saw him, I would want him, and for the first time in two years he wasn’t mine.

But I couldn’t spend my whole summer mourning him, even if that was the easy thing to do. I’d have to face him sometime, and maybe he would see me and realize he’d made a mistake.

“You have any magic makeup in there to make me look better than his new girlfriend?”

Willow grinned, waving her hand at me. “Oh please. Like anyone can out-makeup me.” She winked and grabbed my hands, pulling me up off the bed and into the bathroom. I stared at the photographs I’d taken on our family vacation to Hawaii a few years ago as she prepped everything on the counter. The images of the straw huts and fires on the dark beach always soothed me.

Photography was my passion. It had been for longer than I could remember. I was the lead photographer for the yearbook all through high school and I had more digital files of my friends and hometown on my computer than I had hard drive space to store it. It was the one and only thing that made me feel comfortable and safe.

Other than Mason.

Who I didn’t have anymore.

“Can I take my camera tonight?”

Willow dabbed foundation below my eyes. “If you want to. You have about a million photos of all of us out at Hay Stacks, though.”

“I know. It just makes me feel better to have it with me.”

She chuckled. “You’re kind of weird, Nat. But I love you anyway.”

“I love you, too. Thanks for this,” I said, gesturing to her spread. “I know you guys are right. I’m scared, but I know I can’t hide forever.”

Willow smiled, outlining my eyebrows with a light pencil. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine.”

I tried to return her smile, but it fell flat and I settled my vision on a photo of Mauna Loa, instead.

That was the first moment where I felt the shift.

There was something about that summer that would change me, it was already beginning, and a part of me knew it. It was like I was walking in the dark toward a distant light, but I couldn’t drag my feet fast enough to figure out what it was. I could only think about one thing at a time, and that night, it was about being in the same place with the boy who had broken my heart just one week prior. I wanted to be prepared, I wanted to be confident, I wanted to be okay, but the truth of the matter was that I just wasn’t.

I was far from okay.

Two hours later, I wiped my sweaty palms on the harsh fabric of my jeans as Willow and I weaved through the weekend crowd to Hay Stacks. Crowds were never my thing, but I felt particularly uneasy that night and Willow sensed it. She held out her arm and I looped mine through hers, clinging to her like a lifeline the closer we got to the bars.

The Crawl was a small strip of clubs, bars, and restaurants near the Poxton Beach boardwalk and pretty much the only place to go out within a thirty mile radius. It was always crawling with tourists, but locals were there in heavy crowds, too. Poxton Beach was the second best tourist spot in South Carolina, right behind Myrtle Beach, and The Crawl was just about the only adult entertainment in the town. Everything else was very family-focused, just the way Dale’s ancestors wanted it.

Even though I had just turned eighteen in November, I had been to The Crawl more times than I could count. Hay Stacks and a few other bars were eighteen and up, which made them favorite spots for my group of friends on the weekends. When we weren’t at The Crawl, we were throwing house parties or bonfires on the beach.