Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 24-Girl Time

By the time that weekend rolled around, I hadn't made a single mistake.

I recorded every single calorie, drank enough water to hydrate a whale, and worked out every morning. My sweatpants had started to get baggy through the legs, which I hardly dared acknowledge for fear I imagined it. Tying the waistband so my pants stayed on—something I had never had to do in my life—meant a beautiful thing was finally starting to happen.

Still, I avoided the mirror when possible. What if I didn't see physical results? My motivation would be crushed. Leaning into chosen denial seemed like the easier option.

When I woke up on Saturday morning at six, I started going through the motions of getting ready for the gym like I would on a weekday. Mira and I had plans to go just before lunch, but I figured sooner wouldn't hurt. The sting of seeing 252 kept haunting my dreams. Even the gym would be better than facing a new string of nightmares.

Maybe.

"Hey," I said to myself while slipping my frayed tennis shoes on, "at least I didn't dream about food last night."

An eery quiet met me at the gym. Most people probably chose the wisest route and stayed home in their warm beds. I started my workout with my gaze averted; I felt like I wore a beacon on my back that drew every pair of eyes to me. Without Mira at my side as another big-girl-in-arms, I would seem particularly overweight. The thought made me self-conscious. Was everyone staring at me on the bike? Was my stomach sticking out too much? I'd worn my biggest shirt. But . . . wait. . . yep. I was definitely the biggest girl in the room.

Ugh.

I ducked my head into a magazine and tried to convince myself that I could disappear for twenty minutes, not unlike one of those birds that puts their head in the sand. My life had been spent with my metaphorical head in the sands of denial. Twenty more minutes wouldn't kill me.

"Lexie, right?"

I had just stepped away from filling my water bottle at the cooler before heading home—the gym was just too awkward to face by myself without the comfort of Mira at my side—when Megan approached, brown braid swinging, a slight smile on her face.

"Yeah," I said in surprise. "Good memory. How are you?"

She unscrewed the lid on an old Gatorade bottle to fill it up. "As good as can be expected." She gave me a wry smile, but a tinge of fatigue lingered in her slightly red eyes. "I don't normally see you here on Saturday mornings. Why are you up so early?"

"That's a really good question."

To my surprise, she laughed. "I guess that's the question to ask all of us, huh?" she said over the tinkling sound of water filling her bottle. "We must be exceptionally dedicated to a healthy life."

Or desperate. I'm thinking desperate.

"Yeah. Maybe." How quickly could I duck away? The safety of my basement lair beckoned.

"I suppose there are worse reasons to wake up early," Megan said with a friendly smirk, straightening up when her bottle finished filling. Her forehead wrinkled. "Hey, I just finished. Are you done too?"

"Uh, yes. I was just on my way home."

She motioned to a blonde girl in the corner stacking a few black plates on a stand. "That's my friend Dana. We normally go out for breakfast after a workout, but she has to work early so she can't go. Want to come with me?"

I must have panicked like a deer in the headlights because she gave me a reassuring smile. "Don't have to!" she clarified, holding her hands up. "But I thought it might be fun. You seem great."