“I think it’s worth throwing your weight behind.”

I nod. “I’m good on my own then.”

“Good,” she says. “Good.”

Walking out to my car, I think about the plans we’d discussed for our legacy project. We didn’t talk too much about it, but we knew what we wanted to do. Just not—

“Waylon!” calls Kyle as he steps out from an intersecting hallway. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Lucky me,” I say.

He throws up his hands. “I can hear you.”

“What?”

“All the little things you say about me under your breath. I. Can. Hear. You.”

I shrink back, feeling immediately like a shit human being. “I . . .”

“It’s fine,” he says with a sigh. “I was wanting to tell you that Friday night is amateur night at the Hideaway. I’m a little fuzzy on all the details of my party over the weekend, but I remember you absolutely bringing the house down, so I thought maybe you should go for it.”

“Oh.”

“You know, you’re basically a rock star to the younger students in Prism. The freshmen think you walk on air. I know you feel uncomfortable sometimes. Like, with yourself and your body, but—”

“Stop. I know I’m an asshole sometimes, okay? But that’s why.”

Confusion furrows his brow. “What’s why? I was only trying to encourage you.”

“You weren’t, though. Whether you mean to or not, you go out of your way to tell me that I’m something to be ashamed of. You’ve been doing it ever since you lost weight. Well, good for you! You’re not fat anymore. But some of us are and some of us are okay with it! My body contains me and that’s what makes my body good. That’s enough.”

“Waylon, I know it’s really hard to see people lose weight when you struggle with weight yourself, but you have to know—”

“Did you ever stop to think about how all those times you talked about your former fat self, you were talking about me too? Every time you called yourself sad or in need of a lifestyle makeover, you weren’t only talking about yourself. You were talking about everyone who looked like you. So, yeah, I’m not going to lie. You do things I think are annoying and silly, but the reason I cringe every time I see you is because when I look at you, I see the person the world thinks I should be . . . the person you think I should be.”

Kyle’s eyes are watering and the color is lost from his skin. “Waylon, you . . . I’m sorry. I’ve admired you for as long as I’ve known you. Your confidence . . . I just. I never meant for you to feel that way.”

I can feel my own tears building. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Waylon?” Clem asks through my door. “Mom called. She’s helping Dad out at the office. She said we’re on our own for dinner.”

“Fine,” I say, facedown in my sheets.

The door creaks open. “Waylon?”

“What?” I moan.

My mattress sinks a little as she plops down next to me. “Is it that boy? If he hurt you even more, I’ll make his life hell.”

I turn my face to the side, a tear streaming down my cheek. “Don’t hurt him. He’s not worth the energy. I don’t even think he’s why I’m upset.”

“Who dares to make my perfect specimen of a brother cry? I’ll break their face.”

“Kyle.”

Her jaw drops. “You and Kyle . . . ?”

I roll over. “Oh God, no. I . . . I’m always shitty to him and so he said something about how he notices. And then he said he was only trying to get me to go out for amateur night this Friday night, but then I ended up totally unloading on him about how awful he’s been since he lost weight.”

She leans over to push a curl off my forehead.

“I don’t care that he lost weight. That’s not the problem. He should be able to do whatever he wants with his body, but it’s the way he talks about it.”

“Flaunts it is more like it,” she says.

I sigh. “Yeah, sort of. I’ve never even said anything about it to him after all this time, because he would assume I’m jealous. And that’s not what this is about. This is about him making it perfectly clear that people in bodies like mine are failures.”

Clem nods sympathetically. This—fatness—has always been the one frontier where we have trouble connecting, but she’s always been here to listen and always stands up for my body—even when I’m the one bashing it.

“I know being fat wasn’t easy for him. It’s not easy for anyone, but the difference is that I think I’d enjoy my life a hell of a lot more if I didn’t spend every ounce of energy trying to starve myself. Even now, you’ve seen the way he is with food and how intense he is about working out. He’s terrified of ever looking like me again. There’s nothing wrong about thinking about what you eat or working out. I love dancing!”

“I know you do,” says Clem. “And singing. And lip-synching. Which is exactly why you should take a chance and sign up for amateur night.”

“I don’t have time for that, and even if I did . . . there’s no way.”

She pushes at my shoulder. “Stop it! You were amazing at that party. Now’s the time!”

I shake my head. But then I remember the sheer joy I felt performing on that coffee table. “I would only do it if you were there with me the whole time.”

She’s not so quick to answer. “I have something on Friday, but maybe I can make it work.”

I scoff playfully. “I’m sorry to interrupt your super-busy schedule.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that there’s a meetup happening in Odessa for University of Georgia incoming first-years. It’s like a chill coffee-shop thing and there aren’t even that many of us, but I should totally be back in time. I’ll have to meet you there, but I promise I’ll be there, okay?”

“How are you even getting there?”

“I thought I could take Beulah?”

I scoff. “You’re scared of driving outside of parking lots.”

She shrugs. “Time to face my fears.”

Soon Clem and I won’t have to deal with who needs the car to go where, and I’m going to miss every second of it. I haven’t done a very good job of supporting her and her big move, but it’s time I do. “I should drive you. There will be more amateur nights.”

She shakes my shoulders. “No! Heck no. This is way too big to miss. We’re going to be doing lots of things apart from each other pretty soon. Think of this as practice.”

“I don’t wanna,” I half joke.

She takes my hand and runs her finger over the silver polish on my nails. “I’ll get Hannah to drive you and I’ll meet y’all there. I promise.

“You promise-promise?”

“Promise-promise.”

Thirty

After giving myself a full day to mope, I wake up on Wednesday morning ready to make something happen.

Yesterday after first period, Tucker handed me a note. I waited until last night to read it, and after a good angry cry, I fell asleep with it balled up in my fist.