This book is a work of fiction. References to people, events, establishments, organisations and locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Boyfrenemy. Copyright © 2020
Catherine Rull Villalobos
www.catherinerull.com
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-6487628-3-6
Cover by Elise Lewerenz of Peachy Art and Designin consultation with Catherine Rull
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the author’s written permission.
First published by Wolfhaus Press in April 2020
Brisbane, Australia
To my vivacious, inspirational and super-fun critique partner, Heather Ashby, who is nothing like the “Heather” in this book. Thank you for your friendship, encouragement and feedback over the years. Your generosity with your time and your positive attitude helped me finish and refine twelve manuscripts in six years ♥ Thank you, Pete for sharing her—I’m not sure you had a choice!
Acknowledgements
Boyfrenemy (Book 2 of The Fat Chicks’ Club Series)is my seventh completed manuscript but my second published work. I originally wrote it in 2013 after completing The Fat Chicks' Club
I’d like to thank my awesome critique partner and Firebird sister, Heather Ashby for her encouragement and feedback during the writing and editing process of this book. She read this a chapter at a time, and helped to keep me on track and believing in the story. To top it off, she’s come out of writing retirement to critique this book for me one more time before publication! You’re a legend, Heather!
I’d also like to thank “Sandy” for lawyering advice, and my Portuguese/Brazil expert, AJ Dalmaso—all mistakes are my own; my beta readers, Joanne Lockyer and Thorndyke Law for their feedback; Lykke MKT for the series logo; and Elise Lewerenz of Peachy Art and Design for making my cover concept a reality.
Thank you as always to my wonderful husband, Mao Che for his belief in me, and for going with me to research my many scene locations. To my children, Atticus and Alexandra, thank you for your love and support, and for sharing Mummy with her book children. ♥
Last but not least, to my readers and social media supporters, THANK YOU! You are the next stage of this dream. I hope you enjoy, Boyfrenemy, and write a review to keep this dream going.
Prologue
“ …if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
-- Marilyn Monroe
Sturdy. Stocky. Big-boned. Big. Curvy. Full-figured. Plus-sized. Plump. Baby fat. Water-weight. Bloated. Unhealthy. Heavy. Chubby. Flabby. Chunky. Chonky. A big girl. Overweight. Food addict. Battling the bulge. Obese. Behemoth. Whale. Tank. Fat.
I’ve heard them all before—mostly from the “popular” kids in high school who’d apparently found it too hard to pronounce my actual name, Jess.
The worst of my nicknames were “Miss Piggy” and “Hog-gen”. All because of my weight and long blonde hair, and my family name is Haugen.
I only ever had one friend at Bridgewater High. And unbeknownst to Isabella Harper, she’s always been my frenemy—a friend who is really an enemy. Is it because she’s smarter, thinner and has an ideal family?
No. It’s more embarrassing than that.
My grudge can be summed up in two words: Keats McAllister. He’s been the secret love of my life since I was twelve, when his globetrotting family decided to settle in my little corner of Australia.
I saw him first, but their parents were friends, so Isabella saw him more. And that was how she got dibs on him. Not that I ever told her how I felt about Keats. But as my best friend, she should’ve guessed.
I’m glad Isabella’s gone back to work in England. Her charmed life always makes mine suck by comparison. And something I learnt while she was in England the first time was it’s so much easier to shine when I’m not in her shadow.
Chapter 1
14 February
Penny Chen opens the wooden door of her townhouse with a welcoming smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It could be because we’ve been quietly competing to be Isabella’s best friend since high school—or maybe it’s just the fact I’m half an hour late.
Ah. The joys of using public transport in Brisbane—you miss one bus, and it’s a bloody long wait for the next one. I may have also missed my stop because I was too busy checking my website on my mobile phone to notice I’d gone too far.
“Hey, Jess. Glad you made it. The others bailed on us,” Penny tells me above the yapping of the tiny Chihuahua dancing at her feet. She leads the way into her sparsely furnished home with its eclectic collection of décors from Hello Kitty figurines to a large colourful painting of fat people dancing. It looks like an original, and it looks expensive.
I’ve never been in Penny’s home before. Ever. We’ve both been friends with Isabella since Year 8, but not really with each other. I always got the feeling that Penny and the rest of our group never liked me, so I kept to myself and none of them ever bothered to get past my barrier.
Penny goes directly to the laptop on her designer coffee table—she has very simple tastes but if you take a closer look, her things are all top of the range. Tonight, she’s laid out some freshly cut celery and carrot sticks on a platter with a puke-green dip of some sort. Beside this is a bowl of seasoned potato wedges. It looks like Penny’s vegetarian again.
I decide not to eat. The meals for my eating plan are all bagged up in my
