The Guy Who Texted Me Goodnight Every Night Wasn't My Boyfriend

I used to be a chubby girl, almost two hundred pounds. But over the past year, I've lost a ton of weight. Zach, my childhood sweetheart, promised me one thing before he left to study abroad. "When I get back, I'll tell everyone we're together." Today he's coming home. I finally spot him walking through the airport doors. My heart starts racing. I never told him I'd lost the weight. I tighten my grip on the flowers, ready to surprise him. But someone gets to him before I can. A girl in a white dress runs up to him and throws her arms around him. Then he bends down and kisses her. Easy. Familiar. Like he's done it a thousand times. I freeze. I know her. Cara, the most popular girl on campus. Cara settles against his chest and smiles up at him. "So where's your chubby childhood sweetheart? She didn't come pick you up?" Zach lets out a short laugh. "She doesn't even know I'm back." "Doesn't she follow you around everywhere?" "She's so exhausting." He sounds annoyed just talking about her. "Our parents are close. Otherwise, I would've cut her off years ago." "Before I left, I gave her my buddy's number and told her it was my new one. He's been texting her back all year." Cara pulls away and looks at him. "She talked to some random guy for a whole year and never figured it out?" "She was so happy I texted her back. Didn't even notice." The flowers slip out of my grip. -- Zach and I grew up in the same neighborhood. In elementary school, he chases off the boys who make fun of my weight. In middle school, when I can't keep up in PE, he slows down to wait for me, pretending to be annoyed. That's when I start liking him. When we're alone, he eats the lunches I pack for him and spends hours on my couch playing video games. But the moment other people are around, he looks straight through me. The most I ever get is a quick nod in the hallway. I ask him about it once. He tells me the guys he plays ball with have big mouths. He doesn't want them giving me a hard time. I believe that too. So this past year, I give up bubble tea. I give up everything sweet. I run three miles every morning and every night. One day, I pass out on the track because my blood sugar drops too low. When I come to, the first thing I ask the coach is whether the workout still counts. I put myself through all of that because I think he finally cares about me. I snap back to reality when my phone buzzes. Zach is still standing there with his arms around Cara, laughing at something she says. He hasn't even touched his phone. He hasn't even glanced in my direction. But the notification is from the account he just said wasn't his. [baby, you up?] [don't just have coffee again, okay?] So who exactly has been talking to me this whole time? ... I leave the airport, get in my car, and open the chat history. The number he gave me has been his buddy's all along. Looking back, it all makes sense now. At first, the replies are short. Cold, almost. [How's the exchange program?] [Fine.] [Did you eat?] [Yeah.] Days go by without a reply. He's never been much of a texter anyway, so I tell myself he's just tired. Until one night, I type: I know I'm a lot. I just missed you. Please don't be mad at me. An hour later, he replies. [You're not a lot. I'm sorry. I'll do better.] After that, everything changes. He starts checking in every day. He remembers when I'm having cramps and tells me to stop skipping meals. One evening, he notices I've eaten nothing but a piece of corn all day and spends twenty minutes lecturing me over text. On my birthday, I don't get a single message from Zach's real account. But at midnight, the other one sends: happy birthday. I hope you have a really good year. That's the night I decide to lose the weight. I think Zach finally cares about me. I think if I just get a little smaller, a little prettier, he'll stop hiding me from everyone. Now I know none of those messages ever came from him. I wash my face and open my photo album. One of the pictures is from a year ago. Oversized hoodie. Chubby face. Sitting between two desserts and grinning at the camera. I send it to the account. [good morning, baby~]

One minute passes. Then five. No reply. I let out a short laugh. Of course. It's easy to say you like someone when you've never had to look at them. The moment he sees what I used to look like, that's a different story. I move my thumb toward delete contact. My phone buzzes. A photo comes through. A guy stands in front of a mirror, his black shirt pushed up to his chest. The photo cuts off just below his collarbones. Clear abs. Gray sweatpants. His arm is turned slightly inward, revealing a small mole on the inside of his forearm. Then another message comes through. [You had the guts to send that. Least I could do.] Heat rushes to my face. [Nobody asked you to send this.] [Wasn't this your way of asking if I'd still call you baby?] [So?] [Yeah. I will. Even if you gained a hundred pounds back.] I stare at the screen. My eyes sting. I almost cry for the second time today. I should delete the photo. I know I should. But my thumb betrays me and hits save. Right. The better-looking they are, the easier it is for them to lie. My finger moves back toward delete contact. Knock. Knock. Someone knocks on my window. "Nora?" Zach. He must have recognized my car. For a second, I can't breathe. I've already had enough for one day. I'm not letting him see that any of this got to me. I wipe my face and roll down the window. "Hey." He goes still. His eyes slowly move over my face, then my hair, then down to my dress. "I'm sorry." He takes a step back. "I thought you were someone else." He doesn't recognize me. I freeze. Zach turns to leave, then stops. He looks back at the car, a small crease forming between his brows. "Wait. Isn't this Nora's car? Are you her friend?" "Zach." Cara walks up quickly and wraps both hands around his arm. She presses a kiss to his cheek, but her eyes never leave my face. "My ride's here. You promised we'd celebrate. Just the two of us, remember?" Zach hesitates. Then Cara steers him away. He glances back once. I roll up the window and look at myself in the rearview mirror. Then I laugh. I went from nearly two hundred pounds down to just over a hundred, all so he'd finally be willing to claim me. Yet he didn't even recognize my face. ... When I get home, Mom meets me at the door with a gift box. "Zach stopped by earlier." She hands it to me. "He and Luke are having a welcome-back dinner tonight with some friends. He said you should come." She nods at the box. "He brought this back for you." I look down. Letter chocolates. Months ago, I'd mentioned them to Zach in passing. I told him I thought it was cute how each piece had a letter on it and you could spell out names. I didn't think he'd actually remember. For one stupid second, something stirs in my chest. Then I open the box. Four slots are empty. A notification lights up my phone. Cara's post. Four chocolates sit on a white surface, spelling out C-A-R-A. Zach's hand rests on her waist. On his wrist is the watch I gave him for his birthday last year. The caption: someone brought me a gift straight off the plane. I stare at what's left in the box. Zach didn't remember I liked them. He bought them for Cara, then handed me whatever was left. Just like he did all year. He was too lazy to deal with me himself, so he handed me off to his buddy instead. Mom pokes her head out from the kitchen. "Do you like them?" I close the box. "No." A tear lands on the lid. I carry the box outside and drop the whole thing in the trash. I spent a whole year putting myself through hell just to be good enough for him. He couldn't even give me a full box of chocolates.