Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) (31 page)

“Maybe,” I said. I could barely bring myself to speak above a whisper.

“Then I’ve been a bad friend. I can be better,” he said. “Just don’t do this. Don’t cut me out. I’m not just going to turn around and walk away from the one person in my life that makes everything make sense.”

I smiled a little at his words. I wanted to believe him, but at the same time I didn’t. It seemed to me that he wanted so much from me, and yet wasn’t willing to give me the one thing I needed. I didn’t want to be just his friend. But he didn’t want anything more. How could a friendship survive that?

“Max, you know you mean the world to me. I would never want to do anything to hurt you. I just don’t know what else to do.”

“Just tell me what it is that I’m doing so wrong, and I’ll stop.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Then what is the problem?” he asked. His voice had hardened slightly. “Why is it that you expect me to just accept that I’m hindering you, with no explanation? Honestly, Sam, if I’ve done something to hurt you, just tell me so that I can make it right.”

Chapter 10

I gazed into Max’s eyes and wondered how I could explain to him that, despite the fact that he had never been anything but an amazing friend to me, I couldn’t be around him. Not because of anything he said or did, but because I was head-over-heels, one hundred percent, without question, in love with him.

Or certifiably obsessed. If there was a difference.

“Tell me,” he said. He held my gaze. “You’re not going to hurt my feelings. You can be honest. If I’m annoying you, if I talk too much, if I smell, just tell me.”

I had to laugh a little at his last words. There it was—the humor. He was my bright spot no matter what went wrong. I wasn’t ready to give that up.

“You are amazing, Max—that’s the only thing that’s wrong with you,” I said.

“Wait a minute, is this some kind of woman thing? Where you say one thing but you mean another?” he asked.

“Not only women do that.”

“Mostly women.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, is that what this is?” He stepped a little closer to me. “I’m a big boy, you can tell me the truth.”

I sighed. My gaze traveled the length of him. I wanted nothing more than to pull him into my arms and kiss him passionately, but I knew that wouldn’t be fair. I had dropped enough hints for him to know I was interested. He obviously was not.

“The truth is, I can’t picture my life without you either. I guess I was just having a bad day,” I said.

“Really?”

“Really. But if you ever buy me tacos before my yoga class I will pin you down and make you pay the consequences.”

“Uh, that sounds terrifying.” He smiled.

“You’ve been warned.” I unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. He followed after me. When I heard a low whistle, I knew I was in for it.

“Nice pants,” he said. His laughter negated the compliment.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well I think you might need to get used to them, because they’re tight enough to have become part of your body permanently,” he said.

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say they looked bad. Just sparkly. Very sparkly.”

“Max!”

After Max and I watched some TV together, he left for the night. It was still hard to ignore my feelings for him, but I had come to realize that it would be much harder not to have him in my life. I was willing to suffer in silence a little if it meant I got to spend time with him.

I had changed out of my super-tight pants, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them in the trash. We had been through a lot together.

As I sat down in front of my computer, I smiled at my own reflection in the dark screen. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done that. After so many years of avoiding mirrors and cameras, I could finally see the beauty in me—just as I was. Yoga might have been a bit of a disaster, but it had taught me a very big lesson—that I can be accepted for who I am. Skinny, round, short, or tall. I can just be in the body that I grew just for me.

It was a message that I wanted to convey in my blog to others who I knew might feel the same way I did. I didn’t think there was anything more heartening than coming to peace with one of my most embarrassing moments. Yes, it was unfortunate, but as Guru Gary liked to say, it was perfect. It was the moment that I was in, and it led to a funny experience that I could draw on for years to come.

As I typed up my blog post, my fingers flew across the keyboard. I felt more motivated than ever to speak my truth. With all of the struggles I had with my self-esteem and body image, I wanted to be an example of evolving out of that mindset. My body was sore, but I’d done it. That was the point of the bucket list—pushing myself beyond my comfort zone.

All of a sudden it hit me. I didn’t want to just type out my experiences on a blog, I wanted to share them with someone. If I’d known all of this when I was younger, I would have had a much easier life with a lot less insecurity.

One of the items on my bucket list was to become a mentor. When I wrote that down, it was more about mentoring another woman who was in the process of losing weight, but now I felt differently. When I was a young girl if I’d had a woman like me to model genuine acceptance of her body and joy about the person she was, I would have felt so much better.

I wanted to be a mentor to a young girl. Whether or not she was dealing with weight issues, she would probably have some kind of insecurity to deal with. I had enough time and plenty of desire to have fun. I was sure that I could make a great Big Sister. The only question was, would anyone else think I would make a suitable mentor?

After finishing my blog and posting it, I began researching how to become a Big Sister. Now that it was in my head, I was determined. Hopefully out there somewhere, a Little Sister who needed someone like me was waiting for me.

I only had to go through a background check and fingerprinting. What could possibly go wrong?

Single Wide Female: The Bucket List

#9 Be a Mentor

By

Lillianna Blake

Copyright © 2015 Lillianna Blake

Cover design by
Beetiful Book Covers

All rights reserved.

LilliannaBlake.com

Chapter 1

Waiting for my turn to be fingerprinted at the local police station had given me plenty of time to think. I was working on the next item of my bucket list—all the things I wanted to do or try as I continued on my weight-loss journey. I was feeling proud of the progress I’d made so far, but this next one wasn’t just some wild activity or silly adventure—this was going to involve another person.

I wondered if I was really ready to be a mentor.

I sat on the hard wooden chair and did my best to pretend that I was comfortable. I had been just fine a few hours before. Now my legs were beginning to go numb. I had jumped through all of the hoops I needed to, in order to become a Big Sister. Getting fingerprinted would complete my background check and then I’d be ready to go.

I was looking forward to meeting the young girl that I would mentor.

As I continued to wait to be called up to the front of the line, I tried not to let my impatience show. I knew that even though the process was nearly complete I was still under a microscope. It was strange how nerve-wracking it had been for me to seek approval. Was I good enough to be a Big Sister?

“Next.”

I looked up to see a man standing in front of the large wooden desk that separated the police from the public.

“Yes, you,” he said.

I stood up and straightened my skirt. I felt like I was in the ultimate principal’s office. He managed what looked like a strained smile, then turned and walked down a hallway. I followed after him. We passed several windowless doors. My imagination ran wild with what might be behind them. Was a criminal being interrogated? Was there a valuable witness squirreled away behind one of the doors?

Perhaps, more likely, they were just closets.

“Here we are,” he said.

He didn’t look much like a police officer. He wore a button-down plaid shirt with dark brown trousers. I didn’t see a badge anywhere on him. He gestured for me to sit down in front of a small table.

“Here?” I asked.

“Yes, there.”

I sat down in the chair. It felt strange to be in a police station preparing to get my fingerprints taken. I had never been involved in anything that could get me arrested as a youth, and certainly not as an adult. I had to remind myself that I was there voluntarily and would be walking out when he was finished.

“I’ll just need your right hand,” he said.

I held out my right hand. He grasped it and guided my fingers to the ink pad. He rolled each fingertip in the ink and then pressed each of my fingers down on the card.

“Now your left.”

He repeated the process with each of the fingers on my left hand. I watched as my fingerprints appeared on the card he was using. I’d never really thought about the fingerprints that I left behind on everything that I touched.

“All set,” he said. “Let me just get you something to clean your hands.” He glanced around the small table, then he frowned. “As usual, someone’s taken the wipes and didn’t put them back. I’ll be right back.” He grumbled under his breath as he walked away.

A few minutes after he was gone, another police officer headed in my direction.

“Ma’am, are you supposed to be here?” he asked.

I took one look at his bright eyes and rugged features deciding that jail might not be so bad.

“I’m just waiting for something to wipe my hands.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I was getting my fingerprints done, and there weren’t any wipes, so I’m just waiting for one.”

“Oh, well, you’re not supposed to be alone back here,” he said. “I’ll just stay with you until the other officer comes back.”

“Okay,” I said. I tried not to smile too wide. I certainly didn’t mind the company.

“So, why are you getting fingerprinted?”

He leaned casually against the edge of the table. I noticed that he was looking directly into my eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was attracted to me or if it was because he wanted to interrogate me.

“I’m applying to be a Big Sister.”

“That’s very generous of you. Not too many people take the time to volunteer anymore.”

“I’d just like to have the opportunity to give back a little.” I smiled at him as he continued to study me. It was a little unnerving to be looked at so intensely. I did, however, find him absolutely enticing.

“I’m sure that you will make a great role model,” the officer said. “So many girls these days get swept up in all of the pop music and celebrity gossip. They get the wrong idea about how they’re supposed to look and act.”

“That’s very observant of you. Do you have a daughter of your own?”

“Me? Oh, no.” He shook his head. “Not even close. I have a little sister, though. Some of the things she wears—I just want to lock her up in a closet.”

“But that would be illegal,” I said.

“Right.” He laughed a little. “So all I can hope for is that she gets a chance to see what real women are like and what real beauty is.”

Chapter 2

I was beginning to like the officer more and more. It wasn’t often that I came across a man who was so willing to talk and also had such clear views on beauty.

“I’m Paul,” he said, offering me his hand.

I stood up from my chair so that I could take his hand in a firm handshake, but my foot caught in the leg of the chair. I fell forward. He lunged forward to catch me, and somehow my hands landed right on the curve of his rear end. It was firm and round—and wearing a badge. I drew my hands back quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Uh, yes, thank you.” I swallowed, feeling slightly guilty. If he’d noticed my accidental groping, he didn’t mention it. “I’m Samantha.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Samantha. I’ll let you get back to your fingerprinting.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw the man returning with a package of wipes. “It was nice to meet you too Paul.”

“If you ever want to talk, feel free to give me a call.” He handed me a business card. I took it from him, with my heart pounding. I was already calculating just how long I should wait before calling him. “Bye, Samantha,” he said.

Bye, beautiful man in a uniform, I thought.

As the officer walked away, my eyes widened. Clear as day on the seat of his light gray trousers were my fingerprints. If he decided to press charges for indecent sexual conduct, I was sure he would have ample evidence. I tried not to laugh as I turned away from the sight. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, Barnes, been getting a little too friendly with the felons again?” another officer asked. Officer Barnes glared at the older officer.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. Then he continued walking down the hallway.

More officers made little comments as they passed by him. I had a feeling there wasn’t going to be much chance that Officer Paul wouldn’t find out about the marks I had left on his pants. I decided it would be a good idea to get out of the police station as quickly as possible.

“Here you are.”

The man who had taken my fingerprints pressed a wipe into my palm. “Make sure you get them clean, that ink won’t wash out of anything.”

I grimaced as I scrubbed the wipe across my fingertips until they were as clean as I could get them. Then I tossed the wipe in the garbage. I made my way carefully out of the police station. I did my best to avoid running into Paul again.

Once I was safely in my car driving home, I had to laugh. I could only hope that Officer Paul would share my sense of humor. Maybe if I gave him a call and explained things he would understand.

At a red light I reached into my purse to find his card. When I pulled it out, I discovered that I had left a big black smudge of ink over both his last name and telephone number. Disappointment flooded me. I was really hoping to be able to connect with Paul again. But maybe it was a sign that I shouldn’t risk being arrested for illegal groping of a police officer.