I roll my eyes. “Did you change your mind?”
“No,” she says. “Maggie wants to talk to you, or whatever.”
The person in front of me walks away, leaving me as the next person in line. I step forward.
“Hello,” the barista says. “What can I get you?”
I order quickly, then step aside. Alice shoves the phone in my face.
“Josie!” Maggie’s face appears on the screen. She’s wearing her uniform, which means she could be at home or slacking off. “How was the flight?”
I fumble around for earbuds before Alice reluctantly hands me hers, fisted in her hands.
“Did you pull these out before giving me the phone?”
“Come on,” she says. “Why would I do that?”
She’d totally do that.
“Josie!” a barista calls, setting my chai on the counter.
I’m not awake enough for this.
“Here,” I say, giving the phone back to Alice. “Hold on.”
After I’ve grabbed my drink, I turn back to see that Alice has somehow snagged a table, our bags strewn around it to claim our territory. She has both earbuds in and is nodding at something Maggie must be saying.
“She’s back,” Alice says, taking out one earbud and shoving it in my ear. “Do you see her?”
I fix the earbud, moving my head. “Hey, Mags.”
“Josie!” she says again, like she didn’t see me before. “Alice tells me the boy you’re interviewing is really cute?”
“I didn’t say that,” Alice says. “I said you would probably think he’s really cute. Josie does.”
My cheeks burn. “I never said that.”
“Oh, Josie.” Maggie wiggles her eyebrows. “It’s bad, huh?”
“It’s not like that,” I say, picking up my cup. “I’m just interviewing him.”
I should be thinking about Marius. It’s just that I’d rather not.
“Are you sure you don’t have a crush?” she asks, leaning closer to the camera. “A little, itty-bitty one?”
“You’re spending too much time watching Paw Patrol,” I say. “It’s not a crush.”
I refuse to call it a crush. Maybe that’ll keep one from developing. In the past, I’ve tried to squash my feelings before they got too big by ignoring all the fluttery thoughts and focusing on the negative aspects of a person. It’s just hard to do that with Marius.
“Tell me more about him,” Maggie says. “The pictures of him online are cute. Is he as cute in person?”
“Maggie,” I hiss. The idea of her looking him up to appraise him is cringy. “He looks fine.”
“He’s definitely fine.”
“Maggie.”
She snickers.
“Ugh.” I toss my head back, running my hand through my hair. “I’ll talk about him once with you. Just to get it out of my system.”
Gagging, Alice gets up and walks to the line.
“Excellent.” Maggie nods, solemn. “A great plan.”
“I can’t with you.” I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. Something about Marius is fun to think about. Maybe it’s because I’ve been avoiding thoughts of him since we last met. “I don’t know where to start.”
“I want to hear everything.” She steps back, revealing the break room in the background. “You really should purge all of these feelings before you go do your next journalism thing.”
“I mean, he’s…” I shake my head, grinning. “Even his name. Like Marius just sounds gorgeous, you know?”
“I definitely know.” Maggie smiles her crush grin. She looks like she’s watching a romantic comedy. “What else?”
Talking about Marius when he’s not here makes me feel shy.
“I don’t know,” I say. “He said there was something romantic about movies, but there’s the same romance around him. He’s…God, Maggie. He’s stunning and beautiful and mysterious and different from anyone I’ve ever met.”
If Alice were here, she’d make fun of me or scold Maggie for encouraging me. Maggie just squeals. I open my mouth to say more, but Alice drops back into her seat.
“What?” she says, waving around a white milkshake-looking thing with red and green sprinkles. “The line was short.”
She grabs the earbud she left dangling and sticks it in her ear. I try my best not to pout.
“What are you talking about now, Mags?” Alice asks. “Still on the boy? Has Josie written any love poems yet?”
“God,” I say. “You’re actually the worst.”
“Yeah, she is,” Maggie says. “Come on, keep telling me. What’s it like talking to him?”
“He’s just like every other boy Josie’s had a crush on.” Alice holds her drink. “They all look the same.”
“That’s not true,” I say. I can’t help the anger that flares in my chest. “You act like you know everything about me, but you don’t.”
She folds her arms. Maggie shakes her head.
“It’s fine to have a type,” Maggie says. “Just make sure he knows you’re better than him from the start. It should even the playing field.”
“How does that make it even?” I ask. “If I’m better.”
“Well, maybe even isn’t the right word.” She cocks her head. “I guess it just makes things easier.”
Maggie has always indulged my crushes too much. Every time something doesn’t work out, she says, “They knew you were better than them and they couldn’t handle it.” But I can’t deal with her saying all of these profound lines about love that worked for her. I’m different. I don’t look like her and I don’t know how to talk like her.
“I don’t know why you’re always into these skinny, slinky boys,” Alice says, leaning her head back against her seat. “You’ll snap him in half.”
“Alice, come on,” Maggie barks. “Really?”
Alice says something in response, maybe an apology, but I don’t hear it. My heart has already sunk. Something builds in my throat, and I struggle to swallow as I stare down into my plastic cup of tea. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my suitcase. I try very hard not to think about the pair of Spanx I know Maggie slipped into it before I left home.
I’m sure she doesn’t mean anything by it. Maybe she doesn’t realize I already worry about being bigger than whoever I end up with, about people always staring at us and wondering what my person sees in me.
Being fat is hard sometimes, but especially
