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My shade of red is more in the Ronald McDonald family. And when I don’t style it in my signature smooth, wavy curls, I look like those Chinese crested dogs that are always getting meme’d on the internet with something cruel. Poor dears.
That’s a Scot for you. They’re overbearing, loud-mouthed, no boundary-having, spirited animals who are sweet, cosy cuddlers one minute and beating the fuck out of someone who looks at them sideways the next.
I’ve been fretting over my upcoming birthday for the past few weeks because I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be at the age of twenty-nine.
“I love your freckles!” he barks, splaying one hand out on the counter and using his other hand to bop my nose. “They make me want to play connect the dots on your wee face.”
“You’re bonnie, and you’re my best mate. You should never feel the need to hide.” The wind beneath my sails has ceased, and my huffy, defensive attitude from moments ago has been completely washed away by this sweet ginger giant standing in my kitchen. I set my mug on the counter and pull out of his embrace to gaze up at him curiously. “Did you say ‘best mate’?” He shrugs. “Aye, you have been nearly since the second we met, which is why I want my teammates to know you. You’re my wee treasure, and I’m right proud of you.”
“You are a proper pain in my arse, Mac. Do you know that?” He beams happily. “It’s a good thing you have a great arse then.”
“That I haven’t had a proper date in years, never mind kissed a bloke. That no matter how hard I try, I can barely string together a comprehensible sentence around a man.
“I don’t consider it body shaming.” “What do you consider it then?” “Calling it like it is. I’m not a stick figure, and I’m okay with that. But I don’t like that we have to tiptoe around these labels society has put out there. If you have eyeballs, the game is up. I’m chubby.”
I then realise with great surprise that my best friend just took my breath away.
Kissing shouldn’t be safe. It’s an animalistic act. It’s connecting on a fundamental level that humans should embrace with their base instincts, not their minds.
I know Mac tells me I’m beautiful, and men fancy me, but I didn’t grow up feeling that way. And a few sweet words from a man who is my best friend isn’t giving me any bright ideas that a romantic happily ever after is in my future.
“You’re going to have to stop being mean to me, Freya, or I’m going to fall in love with you.”
You’re gorgeous, Freya, and your inner voice is an evil, lying cunt.”
