The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend

And the truth was, I was kind of blushing.

I didn’t even notice Toby had moved until he was sitting beside me. “Sorry,” he said. “Did I embarrass you?”

“No… well, yeah, but in a good way.”

“As long as it’s in a good way.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek, but I didn’t let him stop there. I turned my head and pressed my lips against his, just as he started to pull back. It didn’t go quite as smoothly as I’d hoped. I mean, his glasses kind of knocked me in the face for a second, but I pretended I hadn’t noticed.

His lips were so soft that I wondered if he used ChapStick. Seriously, nobody has lips that perfect naturally, do they? He must have been disgusted by mine, which probably felt rough and scaly to him.

But if he was, he didn’t show it. His hand moved up my arm and rested on my shoulder, pulling me a little closer. We sat on my bed and kissed for a few minutes, but the sound of my cell phone broke the moment. Damn it!

And of course, it was that same Britney Spears ringtone—the one I wanted least to hear at that exact moment—that seemed to scream at me. Toby pulled away and looked down at the floor where I’d dropped my purse. When I didn’t move, he turned back to me with raised eyebrows.

“Ignoring someone?” he asked.

“Well,… um, yeah.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to answer it?”

“Positive.”

Before he could ask any more questions, I kissed him again. Hard this time. And even though he hesitated for an instant, he returned it. I fumbled to take off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand beside my bed before our arms twisted around each other, the kiss deepening.

I pulled him down onto the pillows with me. There wasn’t quite enough room for both of us on my twin bed, so he had to lie partially on top of me. One of his hands was in my hair, and the other rested near my elbow.

He wasn’t trying to grab my boob, he hadn’t slid his hand up my shirt, and he didn’t attempt to unzip my jeans.

Actually, Toby didn’t try anything risky. I had the feeling I was going to have to make all of the big moves, like loosening the buttons on his shirt, which I did.

For an instant, I wondered if he was hesitating because of me. Because I was the Duff. Because he didn’t really find me attractive. Despite all those compliments he paid me, it didn’t feel like he wanted me. Not the way Wesley had.

No. I knew that wasn’t right. It wasn’t that Toby didn’t want the big things—he was a teenage boy, after all—but he was a gentleman. A patient, respectful boy who didn’t want to cross any lines. And we’d only been dating for a couple of days.

Did that make me a slut? The fact that we’d only been dating for, like, four days and I was already rolling around with him in my teeny-tiny bed? Had my thing with Wesley totally twisted my perception of sex?

Or did every girl do it?

Vikki slept with most of her boyfriends on the first date.

The whole school thought Vikki was a whore, though.

Casey had slept with Zack only a week after they’d started going out.

Casey had been fifteen at the time, and Zack was her first real boyfriend. She was naive and stupid, and she didn’t hesitate to admit that it was a major mistake.

But I knew I wouldn’t feel that way about Toby. I mean, I was the one pushing this forward. I wanted to go farther with him. Because I liked him. Because he was cute and sweet. Because he wasn’t ashamed to date me. I couldn’t think of one good reason not to sleep with him.

God, I just wanted to stop thinking. I kissed him harder, pulled him closer, trying to re-create that mind-numbing feeling I’d had before… with Wesley. But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t stop thinking.

I undid the rest of the buttons on Toby’s shirt and helped him throw it onto the floor. He was kind of scrawny with hardly any muscle—Casey would have called him “ski

God knows how long we spent making out on my bed, pieces of clothing being removed at a snail’s pace. I was already breathless by the time he had the nerve to pull my T-shirt over my head and toss it to the carpet. While part of me appreciated his patience, I couldn’t help thinking, Took you long enough.

I could feel his right hand inching—like a turtle—toward the clasp of my bra. At this rate, it would have been midnight before he got it off, and for some reason, I felt urgent and anxious. I wanted him to get it off. I wanted to feel attractive and desired. I wanted to stop thinking. So I pushed him away and sat up, my legs still wrapped around him. We both breathed heavily, gazing at each other.

“Are you sure about this?” Toby whispered.

“Very.”

I reached around to undo the clasp, but right when my fingers grazed the hook, there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Bianca?”

Toby and I jumped. Both our necks snapped around just as the door swung open.

Wesley Rush stared back at us, frozen in the doorway.

23

“Oh God,” I muttered as Toby and I made a frantic effort to untangle ourselves. He scrambled off my bed and grabbed his shirt off the floor, his face glowing scarlet. I reached down and picked up my T-shirt. “Wesley, how did you get in here?” I demanded.

“The door was unlocked,” he said. “You didn’t answer when I knocked…. Now I can see why.” His dark gray eyes were big with what I could only guess was shock, dissolving quickly into disgust, and they stared directly at Toby.

Why was he shocked?

Because he didn’t think anyone else would fool around with the Duff?

“But what are you doing here?” I asked, feeling a sudden surge of anger rush through my veins. I yanked my T-shirt over my head and stood up.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Wesley muttered. “I was worried, but it looks like you’re just fine.” He glared at Toby for a moment before looking back at me. “My mistake.”

Now he was the one who looked angry.

Angry and hurt.

I didn’t get it.

I looked over at Toby. His shirt was on and buttoned, and he was staring awkwardly at his feet. “Hey,” I said. He looked up at me. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

He nodded.

I pushed Wesley into the hallway with one hand and shut my bedroom door behind me with the other. “God, Wesley,” I hissed, irritated as I ushered him down the stairs. “I always knew you were a perv, but watching me? That’s a whole new level of creepy.”

I assumed he’d say something to that. Something arrogant and cocky. Or maybe just tease me, the way he always did. But he just stared at me, a serious expression on his face. Not at all what I’d expected from Wesley.

Silence.

“So,” he said at last. “You and Tucker are together now?”

“Yes,” I answered uneasily. “We are.”

“When did that happen?”

“Last week… not that it’s any of your business.” Another jab. Another attempt to make this conversation normal.

But he didn’t take the bait. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded so awkward. So different from the smooth, confident Wesley I was used to.

Another uncomfortable silence.

“Why are you here, Wesley?”

“I told you,” he said. “I got worried. You’ve been avoiding me for the past week at school, and when I called you today, you didn’t answer. I thought something might have happened with your dad. So I came to make sure you were okay.”