"Micki...?" I asked cautiously, as we approached her, still sniffling toward the brick wall corner.
Surprised, she jumped, then looked up at us. She squinted in the sunlight coming from behind us, and tried to put on a happy face.
"H—hey!" she cheered, quickly wiping her pretty face with the back of her hand.
"Uh-uh," Alex stopped her. "We saw you crying. What's the matter?"
He said it more like a statement than a question. I looked at him and frowned, wondering why he thought that tone was going to work with her.
Surprisingly, it did.
Micki let out a shaky sigh. "Oh, you saw that, did you?" She hedged for a moment, now trying more effectively to wipe the tears from her face before her perfect makeup was ruined.
"Micki..." I sighed, my forehead creasing with worry.
"It's just my stupid stunt partner again. He says I'm still too fat."
I had to stifle the urge to laugh. This was a preposterous statement. She was tiny.
"Maybe he's still too weak," Alex bristled. "Tell him he needs to start hitting the gym more. Maybe start juicing. You're fine."
Micki just sighed again, albeit more evenly this time. "I'm sorry. It's nothing, really. Hey, I gotta go, but I'll catch up with you after the game, kay?"
"Yeah," I frowned, wondering why the sudden change in her attitude.
"Of course," Alex smiled at her, sympathetically.
We stood together, watching her trot away, back to the fieldhouse with the rest of her squad. One glance at the endzone clock told us we had about ten minutes before the pre-game ceremonies started.
Alex sighed. "That girl is a full on mess. You know that, right?"
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
YOU ARE READING
The Beautiful Truth
RomanceSawyer Fitzgerald thought she knew the story of her now-divorced parents. It's colored her whole life thus far. Now in college, her English professor assigns her class to read the book that made her dad famous -- the one that he wrote for her mom ne...
