Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 32-Coming Around

"Why did I say yes? WHY? I don't want to video chat with Bradley! That's . . . it's insane."

I raked my nails down the side of my face and hung my head in resignation. No matter how much I beat myself up over it now, it didn't matter. In three days, I was going to video chat with the supposed love of my life and I still had chubby-girl cheeks. Surely he'd close the connection, or recoil, or suddenly become too busy to talk.

"WHY?"

To make matters worse, it was Wednesday. Weigh in day. I pushed away the salad with balsamic vinaigrette and dropped my head onto my folded arms. Rachelle, completely apathetic to my internal torment, took another bite of cheese pizza.

"Because you secretly want to see him," she said. "I mean really. He's beautiful, right? I've seen the Facebook pictures. Mostly just his face and shoulders though. Have you noticed that? Not that it matters. He looks totally ripped."

I groaned from the cave my arms made. "I know! And I look . . . totally not ripped. He should be dating someone like Megan."

Rachelle quirked an eyebrow. "Who is Megan?"

"A friend from the gym."

Her eyes widened. "You make friends at the gym? Seriously? You talk to people there? I wouldn't even make eye contact. Then again, I've never gone to a gym . . ."

"Just one friend. Can we focus on Bradley and my upcoming embarrassment?"

Rachelle dropped her pizza and leaned forward to stare at me over the table. She wore no costume today, opting for a simple pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and her hair in two braided pigtails. Without makeup, she had a sweet, almost girlish expression. I couldn't help but wonder what had prompted this strange turn of normalcy.

"Lexie, get over it," she said. "You're awesome. And if he can't see that—which obviously he has already because he's always contacting you and trying to be friends despite how creepy Facebook is—then he wouldn't be worth it." Her expression drooped a little. "At least you have a Bradley, you know? It gives you someone to at least dream about in the lonely nights."

"Are you lonely?" I asked.

Rachelle, who had always proclaimed herself proud of being overweight, who had openly asked men on dates while dressed like Rainbow Brite, suddenly looked like an uncertain little girl.

All traces of vulnerability disappeared with a saucy little scoff. "No. Of course not. I don't need a man, I just like having them around when it suits my purposes, the bloody apes. But I can see that you have been, especially since your dad died. Bradley gives you a spark of hope."

Despite her smooth cover, something lingered in her expression that I couldn't read. I turned away, not sure what I could say, or should say, to make it better. Maybe I couldn't.

I'm not skinny enough for a great guy like Bradley, I almost said, but stopped myself. Megan and Bitsy ran through my mind. Had Bitsy been skinny enough for her husband? What about the many boyfriends that had dumped Megan—whom I thought was just shy of perfect? Had she been skinny enough for them? What if I did all this work for nothing?

Not skinny enough?

I'd had the thought at least a thousand times before, but it rang differently tonight. It seemed wrong, although I didn't completely understand why.

What if, in the end, weight didn't really matter?

#

Bitsy met Mira and I at the door that night with a tense smile. Her house—as immaculate as ever—lay in unusually pristine, quiet condition. The silence was the first thing I noticed when I stepped inside.