Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads

by Adriana Hunter

  Pullitzer asked her if I was going to a party for New Year’s Eve and the Bitch answered “Yes, for the first time she got an invitation. You know fat girls are not so popular. So of course I said she could go.” Anything to make herself look good. Naturally, she said it loud enough for me to hear. I let her nasty comments slide and actually smiled at her. That threw her and made my day.

  The fact of the matter is that when I smiled, I was not really thinking about what she was saying. I was recalling a phone conversation I had with Alexander one night at Ten's place. Alexander called just as Ten had finished giving me a motorcycle riding lesson. I’ve been riding for a while but Ten wants my transitions to be smoother. I was telling Alexander that it felt strange to be in the driver's part of the saddle with Ten right behind me when he said that he could never have done it. Something about being so close to me in that position would have been too distracting.

  "But you can concentrate when I'm behind you," I had said. "So what's the difference?"

  "Oh the innocence of a sweet little virgin," was his answer.

  I guess I'm really innocent because before Alexander I had never let a guy hold me as tight as he has. But then I had never felt the desire to do so.

  I snap out of my daydreaming as a bike turns the corner. It's Ten. He waves at the Bitch with a big smile on his face. I know he's right, he's gotta keep on her good side otherwise she would lock me up in my room and physically bar access from the house during the rest of the holidays. Still, when he does that I want to strangle him. I look away from the door and decide that I will not let any thought of her spoil my fun. I hop on behind Ten and instead of going in the direction of his place, he goes for a U turn. I lean over and ask "Where are we going?"

  "Your place, you'll need a bathing suit, I turned on the hot tub."

  "Oh" is all I manage to say as I come to terms with the fact that I'm going to see Alexander almost naked. That's exciting but then it dawns on me that he’s going to see parts of me that are way to round to be fashionable.

  A vision of Twiggy in The Boy Friend comes to my mind and I chase her away with a light broom. I breathe in deeply and tell myself that there's no way Alexander could have missed that I'm no lightweight. Seriously, he even lifted me up to put me on the hammock so he can't ignore my size. But it’s one thing to kind of feel it or even guess the shapes I hide under my baggy clothes and quite another to see all of me. What will I do if he changes his mind? What will I do if he runs? What will I do... as I get to the house, I tune out all of the nasty comments the Bitch makes about my weight, except for this one. Her favorite one for patrons of the diner is, “No, I don’t have Jello on the menu. I wouldn’t let my daughter serve food that wiggles just like she does.”

  I run to my room to find my suit and she's back in my head. “Have you seen the size of you? You’re like a double wide ... I’m surprised they make swimming suits for people like you. I wouldn’t think there’s a market for it. People that big should have the good sense to hide.”

  My room is a mess. I left for work an hour earlier than my mother. She had plenty of time to toss it. What was she looking for? I know I'm not entitled to any privacy. As far as she’s concerned I’m not entitled to anything. I know better than to put anything in writing that I would not want her to read or to keep any telling memento of anything. Still I hate it when she does this because I need to spend an hour putting everything back in place.

  The clothes are no problem. My wardrobe is so limited it takes all of three minutes to get all my stuff back in the drawers. It's the school stuff that rattles me. She opens the binders and then tosses everything to the floor. I so hate the Bitch. I leave as much stuff as I can in my locker at school and put numbers on my loose binder pages so I can put them back together more quickly but still, it pisses me off. I guess as long as it does she'll keep on doing it.

  I breathe in deeply, grab the suit, and then get out leaving the room as is. It will wait. I rush back to Ten and my hours of freedom. Alexander will be staying at Ten's place until the first. We're going to have a New Year's celebration.

  I deserve a celebration since the Bitch made me skip Christmas all together this year. I guess staying alone that night was better than sitting with her, watching her drink and spit out nasty comments at me.

  I lean my head against Ten's back and marvel how different hugging him feels from hugging Alexander. The difference comes from all the thoughts in my head and the feelings I have for those two. I think I love them both but there's only one of them I'm very likely in love with. I’m curious to meet Ten's plus one, the necessarily handsome Italian model who is making my best friend so happy.

  We reach the Clark's estate and sure enough, Alexander is waiting for us. First I only see his ride and then, when I see him, the smile on my face goes from ear to ear. The thought of hiding how happy I am to see him does not even cross my mind. My heart is soaring and when I get into his arms I truly feel at home.

  "I've missed you, Love," he says. "I thought this week would never end."

  I never get a chance to answer as he leans over and kisses me. Ten walks away from us and says, "I'll be in the house when you too are done. This is getting way to mushy for me!"

  I feel Alexander's lips curl up in a smile but he does not stop what he's doing and I'm relishing the sensations. I wish there was a way to store it somewhere so I could replay it at will. But then again if there were such a thing it would lose it's magic! He lets me go with a peck on the nose. I'm in a pink little cloud.

  Alexander takes his saddlebag from the bike and we walk in the house by the kitchen door that Ten has left slightly ajar for us. The house is nice and warm and we remove our coats as we walk through the kitchen into the gigantic main room. It's a dining room, living room, family room all in one. In one corner of the room there's Carla's baby grand piano and next to it, James Senior's desk. Ten told me his grandfather loves to work to the sound of his daughter's music.

  Alexander sees the piano and cannot resist its call. It's a beautiful Steinway. I don't know much about musical instruments but I'm sure whatever James purchased for his daughter is certainly top of the line.

  Alexander drops his bag by the piano and moves the stool to adjust the distance to the length of his legs as he lifts the keyboard cover. He places his hands on the keys and starts to play with his eyes closed. It's a slow ballad. The rhythm changes several times during the piece, it's romantic and just a little bit sad. I stand by his side, my hands on the black lacquer top, the vibrations invading my body through the tips of my fingers.

  When he finishes playing he looks at me. There's a question in his look. "I love it. It's breathtaking," I say. "Did you write this?" He nods and offers one of hands to pull me to him. "You need lyrics for it," I tell him.

  "Yes I do. We have the weekend to work on it."

  "We?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. "I've never written anything."

  "So you're a poem virgin too," he says gently mocking me. "Seriously, you're the only girl I know who has not even dabbled in this."

  I close my eyes and realize that no matter what I'm doing, I can't escape the Bitch's influence. I’ve never allowed myself to think about putting feelings to paper. How could I when my privacy can be violated at any time? Furthermore I'm pretty sure that if I had been brave enough to try, she would have found it and then humiliated me by making fun of whatever I had come up with. I’ve denied myself for so long that I’m not even sure I ever wanted to write stuff anyway.

  Alexander does not stop to consider that I could possibly not want to do this with him. "We'll do this together," he says taking a notebook from his bag, there's a pen attached to the cover. He flips it open and looks for a blank page. He scoots over on the stool and invites me to sit next to him. When I do, he hands me the notebook and says, "I'll start from the top and hum so you can get a feel for the melody."

  "Did you decide what the lyrics are going to be about?" Ten asks. He's magically appeared behind us. A
ctually, he probably came in while Alexander was playing and I was so wrapped up in the melody I didn’t notice.

  "Yes, I think it should be about missing the person you long to be with," Alexander says looking at me intently.

  "That works for me," I tell him.

  "Okay guys, I'll let you write. I actually have some studying to do so I'll go up in my old room. If you're done before me, come and get me."

  "Will do," I say as Ten leaves the room.

  Alexander starts to play and hums the melody. He looks at me and says, "Come on. You start. Give me something to begin with."

  "I never would have guessed how much I'd miss you," I say.

  He smiles and says, "I like that." He starts again and sings, "I never would have guessed how much I'd miss you; How could I when I barely know you. How did I let you in so fast? What do we do to make it last?" He hums and looks at me expectantly, "Your turn, Love."

  Two hours later we have a cute love song. It's not great poetry. A far cry from the English sonnets they make us study in school but it works for a song. It's simple enough that you can memorize the lyrics after hearing the song a couple of times. The melody is catchy.

  Just on cue Ten comes down from his room and asks to hear our masterpiece. I joke that he may be overconfident in our talents as writers. Actually I think what we did is pretty lame but then most love songs are if you look at them with a critical eye. I scold myself. This is Ten, he’s my friend, he won’t have a critical eye. He’ll be supportive.

  We agree to try it out on him and Alexander starts to sing. Ten raises his hand to stop him. "I'll be right back." He runs up to his room and comes back with a square box he sets on the piano. “It’s cassette payer and recorder,” he explains, “Of course the sound will not be great but I will hold the first recording of this hit song!"

  Ten presses on two of the device's keys as Alexander begins to sing again and Ten stops him after on sentence.

  "What now?"

  "Why isn't Lovey singing it with you?"

  Alexander turns around and asks, "You can sing?"

  "I can carry a tune," I say, "but nothing that compares to your amazing voice."

  "Let me be the judge of that. Please, sing with me, Love."

  He starts again and I join him. Our voices work well together. I keep my eyes on the notebook to make sure that I get it right and when we're done, Alexander looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time. I’m embarrassed because I don’t know what he’s thinking. Ten gives us a standing ovation.

  “You can sing,” Alexander says, and now that I know that he likes my voice, I think I’m glowing.

  "I'm honored to be the witness of this new partnership," Ten says with a mock grandiose tone of voice. "You guys were made to make beautiful music together." I giggle. I don't think I used to giggle that much before. This is fun. No matter how long it lasts, I will enjoy every minute of it.

  Ten continues to gloat and says, "I told you she could sing." He's grinning like mad. Sometimes the mischievous 12 years old he must have been pops up to the surface. He's cute but very annoying. "You've got to know she would have had the lead in all her high school musicals if her mother ..."

  "Ten, please," I interrupt him.

  "No, let him speak, I want to know." Alexander says, "Why wouldn't she let you do it? Wouldn’t it make her look good in front of her friends?"

  I look at my hands and force myself to put them flat on my thighs. Alexander looks at me strangely, like he can't comprehend that a mother would hate her daughter so much. I know few people get it but that's the way it is and I can't do anything about it. Every so often I ask myself why she does hate me so much. I think maybe something horrible happened to her to make her that way but I don't let my mind go there. I just hate her, it’s easier that way.

  "Can we please not talk about her," I ask.

  "Sure, Lovey" Ten says, "I'm sorry I did."

  "Well I'm not sorry he made you show me how good your voice is," Alexander says, pushing my curtain of hair away from my face. Let's sing it again one more time to make sure we're happy with it."

  CHAPTER 6

  I’m standing outside waiting for my ride. The place will be closed tonight. No one wants to celebrate the end of the year in a diner. Tomorrow morning will be another story. It's one very busy morning. It will be almost as busy as a summer holiday weekend. I'm happy that I don't have to work then. No matter how good the tips would be they would not be good enough for putting up with the Bitch at her worst. She’ll probably show up with a monster hangover. Wendy will have to deal with her. She has barely spoken to me since Saturday and I'm ashamed I have not asked her how she’s doing.

  I'll ask when I’ll get back to work after school next week. Right now, I'm in my little bubble of bliss and I'm not letting any misery in. The bubble has a short expiration date. Too soon it will burst as Alexander rides away.

  I don't know how I will hold myself together since Ten will also be gone all the way to Europe for one term but I'm sure I'll find a way. It's not as if I had a choice. I've gotta keep this up for a few more months, just until I finish high school and then I'll be able to run away. My plan is to work for a year, settle down and then start college.

  Alexander is the one who picks me up today. He's been enjoying this long weekend in the Clark's house. He's fallen in love with the piano and says that when he has enough money he will purchase one just like that. I know most girls my age would wonder how long it takes before one gets accepted as a star and invited by other stars to cool parties and fancy television shows. That’s not the questions that come to my mind. Mine are not so glittery. I’m a boring down to earth girl. What I really want to know is how long does it take for a rock star to make enough money to buy a Steinway? I have no idea how much a tour brings in. Or maybe it does not bring in anything but helps you sell records and establish yourself as an artist? Then the income would be from the sales? I want to ask Alexander but I don't because I fear my curiosity about the music industry will make me look like I'm a money greedy girlfriend.

  I smile as he gets closer. What I truly am is a time greedy girlfriend. I want every second he can give to me before he goes on the road. I realize this may be all the time I'll ever get with him. He's going to be a star and I'll probably lose him when it happens but, at least he'll have been mine for a little while.

  He stops just long enough for me to hop on behind him and strap my helmet on. We ride away and I don't even look to see if the Bitch is watching me go. We reach the Clark's estate and Alexander drives straight to the main house. Ten's bike is nowhere to be seen.

  "He's gone back to the city," Alexander tells me. "There's some big parties he wanted to attend and he thought that we didn't really need him."

  "Oh, okay," is all I manage to say. I've got mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I'm kinda happy he's gone because ... well there's stuff, cuddling stuff, Alexander and I can't do when Ten's around but then, on the other hand, I'm a little sad too. I like having my buddy around and I was eager to meet the person that put that dreamy smile on his face.

  "Before he left, he showed me how the hot tub works, I really liked it in there the other night. I thought we should do it again but just the two of us."

  “I really liked it too,” I say. “I had never been in the tub during the colder months. It's delicious to stay neck deep in scalding water while it's cold out.”

  “Yes it’s very decadent to watch the steam come up and be so warm. That may be another thing on my purchase list when I’ve finally made it.”

  “Let me guess. Will the first thing you’ll get be a grand piano?”

  “No, first I need to get the home in which to put the piano. The first thing I’ll do when I’ll have money is to buy a roof to go over my head,” he says. He grins and adds “Then I’ll get a bed and then a piano and possibly a hot tub.”

  There was another perk to out bathing the other night, I got a better look at Alexander's body. He's a bit mor
e squarely built than Ten but they have a similar swimmer's body. I know Ten trains with his university swimming team. I have no clue how Alexander keeps such an amazing shape.

  It was cute to see Alexander in one of Ten’s bathing suits that evening. Bathing suit ... I didn't bring one this time. Before I even think about it, I protest, "We can't, I don't have a suit."

  He looks at me as if my answer is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. I'm pretty sure I'm turning crimson red because my cheeks feel really very warm right now. Okay, I can do without a bathing suit. I'm trying to remember what underwear I have put on this morning and realize that the stuff I'm wearing is so old and washed out that I will feel less self conscious without anything than in my undies. How weird am I?

  "I won't be wearing anything either," he says with a grin. "Come on, let’s get this show on the road."

  After dropping that bomb in my mind he takes my hand and start walking towards the house. Am I ready for this? I’m not sure anymore. We walk into the big house and drop our stuff in the main room that overlooks the deck where the hottub is located. I look around the room and think that it’s not in too bad a shape for a place in which two guys have been left to their own devices with no one to remind them they need to clean up.

  He removes his jacket and kicks his boots off before he hops on the couch and holds his arms out to me. I do the same and cuddle on the couch next to him. He massages my shoulders and I purr. “Ahhh, this is heaven.”

  “My Mum used to give me great back rubs,” he says. “She would go on for hours. Andy and I were very spoiled that way.”

  “Andy is your elder brother?” I ask.

  “Yes. I told you he’s a cop in the city. He’s always wanted to be a police officer. Mum and I used to call him officer Andrew when we wanted to tease him. Officer Andrew’s favorite thing is foot massages. That’s what he loved best so that’s what she did for him.”