Weathered Love

WINTER

November. I had managed to keep my figure, but I found myself literally anxious about the upcoming holidays. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Even New Year's was occasion to gorge on food and sweets. I was afraid I'd go back to my old self. I begged Derek for help, and all he could tell me was, "Just find the clean foods and stick to those." He didn't know my family well enough to know that that was never the solution.

"You're sticking around this Thanksgiving, right?" Mackenzie asked. She was standing by my locker, partly because she was waiting for me so we could go to lunch together, partly because I asked her to guard against the make-out couple in case they decided to stop by. I needed access to my locker, and more often than not, they made that impossible.

"Yeah, we're staying here. It won't stop my parents from cooking up a storm and inviting everyone under the Sun over to our house. So please, feel free to stuff your face at our house before or after you do that at your parents' house," I commented.

"Ooh, food," Caleb said, coming up to us. His locker was a few lockers away from mine, so he frequently stopped by mine on the way to his. "I heard something about stuffing my face, and I had to find out what you were talking about," he excused his eavesdropping.

"I'm sticking around for Thanksgiving this year, so Mackenzie was asking me what my plans are. And they are to stay as far away from my family's dinner table as possible," I informed him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because my metabolism is a little slower than Mach 3," I explained.

Caleb rolled his eyes, leaning against the locker next to mine and staring at me. It made me a little uncomfortable, but I didn't let on that anything was bothering me. "Well, you can always come over to my place. My parents don't usually do much for Thanksgiving, if they do anything at all," he stated. I laughed into my locker.

"Oh, poor innocent Caleb," I finally said, turning to face him. "You clearly don't come from a culture where your mother acts like you've murdered her mother if you don't spend an occasion at home." Mackenzie laughed. She knew exactly what I was talking about, because her family was the same.

"Clearly," Caleb smiled back, not phased by my subtle criticism. "Show me," he stated.

"How?" I asked.

"I'll come over for Thanksgiving, and you can show me," he offered. I froze, then looked to Mackenzie for help.

"Well, we could all come, since your mom is going to cook enough to feed the rest of the country," she offered. "Actually, let's do a food tour. Every family that's cooking gets us as guests for an hour, we eat a little bit, and then we go to the next house. We'll have your house and mine, we can ask Sammy and Ivan... it should be fun," she offered.

I started to panic internally. No, it didn't sound fun. Avoiding temptation at one house was nerve-wracking enough. Avoiding temptation at four houses? Maybe more? I couldn't do it. I knew my will-power would bend. Especially going to all my best friends' houses.

"Ivy?" I heard Mackenzie call out. My attention snapped back to her. "Are you OK?" she asked. "You spaced for a minute and looked like you were about to cry."

"I'm fine, but I don't know if that's such a good thing for me," I started. I looked down at my body. Sure, I had improved, but I still had such a long way to go. I didn't want to hurt my progress, or worse yet, go back to what I was before.

"I've got you. I'll pick off of your plate," she offered. I nearly cried from happiness. She was a true friend.

"Oh come on, Ivy, food's not your enemy, and you look great! What are you so worried about?" Caleb asked.