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One Year Earlier

"Hey fatass, the Weight Watchers meeting is across the street," she yelled. I barely heard it. After 18 years of it, you learn to get over it. I kept walking, through the double doors and right up to the front desk.

"May I speak with Ms. Peters, please?" I asked the girl with obnoxious purple hair at the desk. I could tell what she was thinking. "What made this fatass think she could be a hair stylist?"

"Haley Miller?"

"Um, it's Hadley actually." I smiled weakly.

I looked up from the chair I was sitting in. A scrawny blond lady in a too-tight dress stood in front of me. I smoothed my hands on my black pants and stood up.

"It's so nice to meet you Ms. Peters. My mother has told me so much about you."

It's true. My mother told me everything there is to know about this lady. She was finally being supportive of something I was doing with my life. It seems being an overweight bookworm wasn't good enough for a fashion designer. She loathed me. I knew she did. I couldn't fit into the clothes she designed. I didn't have pretty hair, I wore glasses, and just last year I got my braces off.

When I told her I was interested in cosmetology, she practically screamed. Finally, maybe I would be good enough for her to show off to her co-workers.

She helped me start to lose weight too. She knew all the tricks her models used to love weight quickly before a show. At first, I was disgusted. But I want this too badly to give up.

I joined a gym and got a personal trainer. He had me on a strict vegan diet. I had already lost 15 pounds.

"Yes, your mom and I go way back! I'm so thrilled that you decided to give us a call,

now let's get started."