Kody Keplinger: The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend

“Um… you could say that.”

Damn it. My cheeks were definitely burning. I turned away from her, examining the hairs on the back of my arm.

“Cardio?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

But miraculously, she didn’t seem to notice that my face was on fire.

“Cool. You know, these pants are a size bigger than what I usually buy. Maybe we should work out together. It could be fun.”

“I don’t think so.” Before she could argue or see the scarlet color of my cheeks, I stood up and said, “I’ve gotta go brush my teeth again. Then I’ll be ready to get out of here. Okay?” And I ran out of the room.

When I returned a few minutes later, I was forced to lie yet again.

“Wanna stay over at my place tonight?” Casey asked as she fluffed her short hair in the mirror. “Mom’s going to a bachelorette party for a woman she works with, so it’ll just be us… and a few James McAvoy movies if you want. Jess will be sad she missed it, but-”

“I can’t tonight, Casey.”

“Why not?” She sounded hurt.

The truth was that I had plans to see Wesley around eleven that night, but obviously I couldn’t just be honest. But I couldn’t really lie either. I mean, my lies were always so fucking transparent. So I did what I was getting better and better at these days. I withheld.

“I have plans.”

“After we leave the Nest?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Casey turned from the mirror and stared at me for a long moment. Finally, she said, “You’ve been busy a lot lately, you know. You never want to do stuff with me much anymore.”

“I’m going out with you tonight, aren’t I?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess, but… I don’t know.” She turned away and examined her reflection one last time. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”

God, I hated being dishonest with Casey. Especially because she clearly knew something was going on, even if she hadn’t figured out what just yet. But I was going to do everything in my power to keep my thing with Wesley under wraps.

And, of course, Wesley acted totally casual about everything. In public, we treated each other with the same sarcastic indifference as always. I insulted him, gave him dirty looks, and cursed under my breath as he acted like a pig (not that there was any acting involved). No one would have guessed we were different behind closed doors. No one could tell that I was counting down the minutes until we’d be meeting on his front porch step.

No one but Joe.

“You like him,” the bartender teased as Wesley, after enduring a verbal tirade from yours truly, went off to dance with a giggling bimbo. “And I’m thinking he likes you, too. You two have something going on.”

“You’re insane,” I said, sipping my Cherry Coke.

“I’ve told you a million times, Bianca, and I’ll tell you again. You’re a bad liar.”

“I wouldn’t touch that douche bag with a ten-foot pole!” Did my voice convey enough disgust? “Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot, Joe? He’s arrogant, and he sleeps with everything he can get his filthy hands on. Most of the time, I just want to claw his creepy eyes out. How could I like him? He’s a jackass.”

“And girls love jackasses. That’s why I can’t get a date. I’m too damn nice.”

“Or too hairy,” I offered. I took the last drink of my Cherry Coke and pushed my glass across the bar to him. “Shave that Moses beard and you might have better luck. Women don’t want to kiss carpet, you know.”

“You’re trying to get out of talking about it,” Joe pointed out. “That just proves there’s something going on with you and Mr. Jackass.”

“Shut up. Just shut up, Joe.”

“So I’m right?”

“No,” I said. “You’re just really, really annoying me.”

Okay, I definitely had to find some way of avoiding the Nest for a few weeks… or, better yet, forever.

“Your shot, Duffy.” Wesley leaned on his pool stick, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“You haven’t won yet,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“But I’m about to.”

I ignored him, focusing my attention on one of the two striped balls still remaining on the table. At that point, I really wished Wesley and I had just stuck to our pattern-walk straight up to his bedroom, bypassing everything else entirely. But that night on the way up the stairs, Wesley had mentioned having a pool table-and proceeded to brag that he was a wizard with a pool stick. For some reason, it sparked a competitive nerve in me. I just couldn’t wait to wipe the floor with him and knock that cocky little grin right off his face.

Only, I was starting to regret my decision to challenge him to this game because, as it turned out, his boasts hadn’t been too far from the truth. I wasn’t bad at pool either, but I was about to get my ass kicked. And there was nothing I could do to wiggle my way out of it.

“Steady there,” he whispered, his lips brushing past my ear as he eased up behind me. His hands settled on my hips, fingers toying with the hem of my shirt. “Focus, Duffy. Are you focusing?”

He was trying to distract me. And shit, it was working.

I jerked away from him, trying to thrust the back of my pool stick into his gut. But of course he dodged, and I succeeded only in knocking the cue ball in the opposite direction of what I’d intended, sending it right into one of the corner pockets.

“Scratch,” Wesley announced.

“Damn it!” I whirled around to face him. “That shouldn’t count!”

“But it does.” He took the white ball out of the hole and placed it carefully at the end of the table. “All’s fair in love and pool.”

“War,” I corrected.

“Same thing.” He eased the stick back, staring straight ahead, before shooting it forward again. Half a second later, the eight ball sailed into a pocket. The winning shot.

“Asshole,” I hissed.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he said, leaning his stick against the wall. “What did you really expect? I’m obviously amazing at everything.” He grinned. “But, hey, you can’t hold it against me, right? We can’t help the way God makes us.”

“You’re an arrogant cheater.” I tossed my pool stick aside, letting it clatter to the floor a few feet away. “Sore winners are way worse than sore losers, you know. And you only won because you kept messing me up! You couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself long enough for me to make a decent shot! That’s just low. And for another thing-”

Without warning, Wesley lifted me up onto the pool table. His hands moved to my shoulders, and a second later, I was flat on my back, staring up at him as he smirked. He shifted so that he was on the table too, leaning over me with his face only inches from mine.

“On the pool table?” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “Seriously?”

“I can’t resist,” he said. “You know, you’re pretty sexy when you’re pissed at me, Duffy.”

First, I was struck by the irony of that statement. I mean, he used sexy and Duffy-implying I was fat and ugly-in the same sentence. The contrast was almost laughable. Almost.

The thing that really got me, though, was that no one, not even Jake Gaither, had ever called me sexy. Wesley was the first. And the truth was, being with him made me feel attractive. The way he touched me. The way he kissed me. I could tell his body wanted me. Okay, okay. So it was Wesley. His body wanted everyone. But still. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in… well, I’d never experienced it. It was exciting and empowering.

But none of that could erase the stab of pain the last word in his statement gave me. Wesley might have been the first to call me sexy, but he was also the first to call me the Duff. That word had been tugging at me, taunting me, for weeks now. And it was his fault.