Danielle Steel - Big Girl

They had snowball fights and went ice skating, they went to hockey games, restaurants, and bars. He introduced her to his friends. They went everywhere together and always had a terrific time. But no matter how close they got to it, they never made love. She wasn’t sure why, and she was afraid to ask. She wondered if he thought she was too fat, or if he respected her too much, or if maybe he was afraid, or if his near miss with his twenty-three-year-old stepmother had traumatized him, or his parents’ divorce. Something was holding him back, and Victoria had no idea what it was. He obviously wanted her, and their makeout sessions grew more and more passionate, but their hunger for each other was never consummated, and it was driving Victoria insane. They were down to their underwear one night in her dorm room, and then he held her in his arms and lay there silently without moving for a long time, and then he got out of bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him quietly, sure that it was something about her. Something wrong with her. Maybe her weight. All her feelings of not being good enough came back to her in a rush as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I’m falling in love with you,” he said miserably, as he dropped his head into his hands.

“So am I with you. What’s wrong with that?” She was smiling at him.

“I can’t do this to you,” he said softly, and she touched his red hair falling over his eyes. He looked like Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer. He was a boy.

“Yes, you can. It’s okay.” She tried to reassure him, as they sat there in their underwear.

“No, it’s not. I can’t… you don’t understand. This is the first time this has ever happened to me… with a woman… I’m gay… and no matter how much I think I love you now, sooner or later I’m going to end up with a man again. I don’t want to do that to you, no matter how much I want you now. It won’t last with us.”

For a long moment, she didn’t know what to say. This was way beyond her realm of experience, and more complicated than any relationship she had imagined with him. And he was being fair. He knew that sooner or later he’d want a man again. He always had.

“I never should have started it, but I fell in love with you the day we met.”

“Then why can’t this work?” she asked softly, grateful for his honesty, but it hurt nonetheless.

“Because it won’t. This isn’t who I am. This is some kind of wild, delicious fantasy. But it’s not real for me. It could never be. I was wrong to think it could. You’ll get hurt. I don’t want to do that to you. We have to stop,” he said, looking at her with his big green eyes. “Let’s at least be friends.” But she didn’t want to be his friend. She was falling for him, and her body was crying out for him, and had been for a month. He looked painfully confused and guilty for what he’d almost done, and the charade he’d played out for a month. “I thought it could work, but it can’t. The first time I see a guy I want, I’ll be gone. That’s not good enough for you, Victoria. You deserve so much more.”

“Why does it have to be so complicated? If you’re falling in love with me, then why wouldn’t it work?” She was near tears, of disappointment and frustration.

“Because you’re not a man. I think you’re some kind of ultimate female fantasy for me, with your luscious body and big breasts. You’re what I think I should want, but in reality I don’t. I want a man.” He was being as honest with her as he could be, and his referring to her “luscious” body was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. But no matter how luscious her body or how big her breasts, he didn’t want her after all. It was rejection exquisitely packaged, but rejection nonetheless. “I’d better go,” he said, slipping back into his clothes as she watched. He was dressed again in a flash and stood looking at her lying on her bed. She hadn’t moved, or said another word. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, and she wondered if he would, and if he did, what would he say? He had said it all tonight. She didn’t want to only be friends. She thought they had more than that together. For a while he had seemed totally infatuated with her.

“I guess I should have told you in the beginning. But I wanted it to work, and I didn’t want to scare you off.”

She nodded, unable to find the right words, and she didn’t want to cry. It would have been so humiliating now, as she lay on her bed in her bra and thong. He looked at her for a moment from the doorway, and then he was gone, and she climbed under the covers and cried. It was frustrating and depressing all at once, but she also knew he was right. It would have been even worse if she’d slept with him, and wanted something she couldn’t have. It was better this way. But she felt horrible and rejected nonetheless.

She was awake for hours, thinking about the time they’d spent together and the confidences they’d shared, the endless makeout sessions that went nowhere but titillated them both, as they were wrapped in each other’s arms, aroused. It all seemed so pointless now. She turned off the light and finally went to sleep. He didn’t call her in the morning, but Gracie did instead. Victoria’s heart felt like a brick in her chest when she thought of the night before.

“How’s Beau?” Gracie asked in her cheerful twelve-year-old voice.

“We broke up,” Victoria said, sounding almost as bad as she felt.

“Oh… that’s too bad… he sounded nice.”

“He was. He is.”

“Did you have a fight? Maybe he’ll come back.” She wanted to sound hopeful for her older sister. She hated it when Victoria was sad.

“No, he won’t. It’s okay. So how are things with you?” Victoria said, steering her off the subject, and Gracie gave her the full report on the boys in seventh grade, and then they finally hung up, and Victoria could mourn the loss in peace. Beau didn’t call her that day, or for the next several days, and then she realized she would have to see him in class. She was panicked over it, and then screwed up her courage and went to class, where the teacher casually mentioned that Beau had dropped out of English lit. And Victoria felt her heart sink again. She barely knew him, but it was a loss anyway. And as she left the classroom afterward, she wondered if she’d ever see him again. Maybe not. And when she looked up, she saw him standing farther down the hallway, watching her, and slowly he approached as she stood still and waited. He touched her face gently with one hand and looked like he wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and looked as though he meant it. “I’m sorry I was so stupid and selfish. I thought it would be easier for both of us if I dropped the class. If it’s any consolation, this isn’t easy for me either. I just didn’t want to make a bigger mess later on.”

“It’s okay,” she said softly, and smiled at him. “It’s okay. I love you, for whatever that means to you now.”

“A lot,” he said, and brushed her cheek with his lips, and then he was gone. And Victoria walked back to the dorm alone. It was snowing and bitter cold, as she walked along the frozen road, thinking about Beau, and hoping their paths wouldn’t cross again. It was so cold, she didn’t even feel the tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. All she could do now was put him out of her mind, and try to overcome her own feelings of failure. Whatever his reasons, he hadn’t wanted her. And the feeling of not being wanted or loved was all too familiar to her. The experience with Beau was a confirmation of everything she had feared all her life.

Victoria’s last two years in college raced by. She took a summer job in New York again at the end of sophomore year. She was a receptionist in a modeling agency this time, and it was as wild as her previous job at the law firm had been sedate. And she had a great time. She befriended some of the models, who were the same age as she, and the people who did the bookings were fun to be with too. All of them thought she was crazy when she said she wanted to teach school, and she had to admit that working at a modeling agency was a lot more exciting.

Two of the models invited her to live with them, and she gave up her dreary room at the hotel. And despite the parties they went to, the hours they kept, the clothes they wore, and the men they went out with, she was impressed by how hard they worked. The girls who were successful worked like dogs, and were diligent about the modeling jobs they did. They went crazy after hours, but the good ones were on time for every shoot, and worked tirelessly until the work was done, sometimes on twelve- or fourteen-hour shoots. It wasn’t as much fun as it looked.

And Victoria was always stunned by how thin they were. The two girls she lived with in Tribeca almost never ate. It made her feel guilty for all that she did, and she tried to follow their example, but she was starving by dinnertime. Her roommates either didn’t eat at all or ate aggressively dietetic food, and very little of it. They seemed to exist on next to nothing, and had tried every kind of purge and colonic to keep their weight down. Victoria had a different constitution than they did. She couldn’t survive on the tiny amounts they consumed. But she followed their more reasonable diet tips as best she could, avoiding carbs and eating much smaller portions, and she looked good when she went back to L.A. for a month before she went back to school. She had hated to leave New York, and had had a ball. The head of the agency had told her that if she ever wanted a job with them, they would hire her anytime. And Gracie loved hearing the stories she told when she got home. She was going into eighth grade that year, and Victoria her junior year. She was halfway through college and still had her sights set on a teaching job in New York. More than ever, it was where she knew she wanted to be. Her parents had lost hope of ever getting her to move back home. And Gracie knew it too.

The two sisters spent a wonderful month together until Victoria went back to school. Gracie had gotten prettier than ever that year, and she had none of the awkwardness of most girls her age. She was lean and graceful, was taking ballet, and had flawless skin. And her parents still let her do a modeling job every now and then. Gracie readily admitted she hated school. She had a booming social life, a horde of friends, and half a dozen boys calling her all the time on the cell phone her parents had finally given her. It was a far cry from Victoria’s monastic life at school, although things got slightly better for her during junior year.

She dated two boys one after the other, although neither seriously, but she got to go out on most weekends, which was a vast improvement over the first two years. She finally lost her virginity to one of the boys she dated, although she didn’t love him. And she never ran into Beau again. She wasn’t even sure if he was still at school. She saw some of his friends once in a while, from the distance, but she never spoke to them. It had been an odd experience and still upset her when she thought about it. He had been like a beautiful dream. The boys she went out with after that were much more real. One was a hockey player, like the boy she had invented in freshman year. And he liked Victoria more than she liked him. He had grown up in Boston, and he was a little rough around the edges, and had a tendency to drink too much and get belligerent, so she stopped seeing him. And the one she went out with after him, and ultimately slept with, was pleasant but boring. He was studying biochemistry and nuclear physics, and she didn’t have much to say to him. The only thing they liked about each other was having sex. So she concentrated on her studies, and eventually stopped seeing the physicist, after a few months.

Victoria stayed at Northwestern for summer school at the end of junior year. She wanted to lighten her load for senior year and focus on student teaching. It was hard to believe how fast the time had gone. She only had one year left before she graduated, and she wanted to concentrate on getting a job in New York for the following year. She started sending out letters in the fall. She had a list of private schools where she was hoping to teach once she got her credentials. She knew the pay wasn’t as good as it was in the public schools, but she thought it would be right for her. By Christmas she had sent out letters to nine schools. She was even willing to do substitute teaching at several schools, if she had to wait for a full-time position to open up.

The answers came back like gumballs out of a machine in January. She was turned down by eight schools. Only one school hadn’t answered, and she wasn’t optimistic when she hadn’t heard from them by spring break. She was thinking about calling the modeling agency where she’d worked to see if she could work for them for a year, until a position opened up in one of the schools. It would be better pay anyway than teaching school, and maybe she could room with some of the models again.