Skinny Read online

  “Yeah. We want details,” Gracie added.

  Melissa swirled the iceberg lettuce with her plastic fork. “Well, he came over on Sunday, and we studied French. No big deal.” She coyly shrugged.

  “That’s huge!” Raven exclaimed.

  “And your mom went for that?” choked Emma, scrunching her freckled nose.

  “I didn’t know if she would at first, but his mom dropped him off and came in and introduced herself. That helped a ton.” Melissa ate a cherry tomato. Its juice squirted the inside of her mouth. “She had on this cross necklace, and our moms started talking about churches in the area for the Pointreauxs to join, and that scored big points. How could Mom not like a churchy family?”

  “So how long did he stay?” Gracie asked.

  “Three hours!” Melissa’s eyes widened and her ponytail bobbed behind her. She remembered how quickly the afternoon had gone, how she felt so comfortable and nervous at the same time with Beau next to her.

  “Shut up!” squealed Emma. “You studied together the whole time?”

  “Well, at first . . .”

  “Then what?” Raven leaned forward.

  “Then Mom brought out birthday cake and ice cream left over from Friday.”

  “So he found out it was your birthday.” Lindsey winked as she applied a fresh coat of raspberry lip gloss.

  “Yeah.”

  “What is it, Yellow? You’re thinking about something.” Gracie knew her better than the others.

  “Well, it was weird, kind of. He already knew it was my birthday.”

  Brrrrriiinng!

  The girls cleared their food and wrappers at the sound of the bell. Melissa tossed her half-eaten salad into the trashcan. It was so tasteless. At least she didn’t have time to eat much of it, but now she was starving!

  Her stomach growled. It sounded like a cowbell rattling inside her. Thankfully no one else seemed to hear with all of the commotion of changing classes. All one thousand students flooded the halls, shuffling from one classroom to their locker to their next classroom in the allotted seven minutes.

  Melissa slid behind Beau in French class. He turned and smiled.

  “Can I buy a Tootsie Pop?”

  Dear God, please let him like me.

  “Sure, what kind?” Melissa asked as she opened the big yellow box she lugged from class to class.

  “What do you recommend?” Beau’s long lashes shifted down to peek inside.

  “Chocolate. Definitely chocolate.” She raised her eyebrows. “I’m gonna have one too.”

  “Then I’ll take one choc-o-lat,” Beau said in a perfect French accent. He handed her a quarter as Monsieur Renauld stepped to the whiteboard.

  Melissa handed him the lollipop and trembled when his hand touched hers. It was soft and warm.

  “Would you want me to walk you home today?” Beau’s dimple appeared.

  “Bonjour!” Monsieur Renauld began.

  “Bonjour!” the class echoed.

  “Definitely!” Melissa nodded.

  Beau turned around to face the front. Melissa doodled his name in her notebook, then scratched it out so no one would see. While Monsieur Renauld conjugated verbs, Melissa replayed the first two minutes of class over and over again in her mind—the warmth of his hand, the way he had asked, as if they had already discussed walking home together, how his deep voice pronounced “choc-o-lat.”

  She unwrapped her Tootsie Pop, then stopped. She peeked at the side of the box: sixty calories and zero fat grams.

  If she didn’t bite into it, the lollipop lasted a long time. She could eat three a day instead of lunch and still be way under on calories. Plus, no one would give her a hard time if they saw her eating candy.

  Melissa was famished. She popped the sucker in her mouth.

  Chapter Six

  A few days later, Melissa slammed her books on the kitchen counter. “A C! How could Mr. Dougherty have given me a C?” Her insides felt shaky, like when her hand held the electric mixer too long.

  She flipped through her Chemistry test again. She didn’t agree with some of the tricky wording on a few true-or-false questions, and she’d floundered on one of the essays. But a C just didn’t seem right. It wasn’t fair. She had never gotten a C before in her life—on anything.

  Melissa opened the pantry: chips, Twinkies, cheese crackers. “Translation: fat, fat, fat,” she murmured. She couldn’t bring herself to eat any of it. She turned and opened the fridge: leftover bacon, grease, a slice of cheesecake, calories, lots of calories. But I want something sweet or maybe crunchy. I need something!

  She settled on a diet root beer and a small bowlful of dry Cap’n Crunch. She sipped the bubbly soda slowly, savoring the sweet Splenda-laden foam.

  Melissa carried her snack to the kitchen table, where she thumbed through her Algebra book. She had a test over five chapters tomorrow. She hadn’t been able to study before now because of her Chem test on Friday and the English paper she turned in this morning. Each chapter had twenty practice problems. She figured if she could plow through all one hundred problems she’d be ready. She looked at the clock, then back at her book. She tossed a handful of cereal in her mouth and started writing numbers.

  She was finishing the last problem in the first chapter when the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Melissa. It’s Beau.”

  Like he had to tell her who it was. She’d recognize that drawl anywhere. Her heart fluttered.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Well, you know the Christmas dance is coming up in a few weeks, and, well, I was just wondering, would you go with me?”

  “I would love to!” Her eyebrows almost reached her hairline.

  “Great! Well, we can work out everything later. I just wanted to make sure no one else asked you first.”

  “I would have told them no,” she blurted. How embarrassing—she couldn’t act even a little bit cool.

  She heard Beau laugh softly on the other end.

  “So what are you doing?”

  What is he doing? Melissa wondered. Does he still have on that forest green long-sleeved polo with the collar that reaches his curls in the back? What is he eating for a snack? What does his house look like?

  “Studying Algebra,” she said with a moan.

  “Me, too. Five chapters is outrageous!”

  “Yeah, there’re like a hundred practice problems, and maybe two of them are easy.”

  “Well, I wish we could study together, but this time you’re on your own.” Beau laughed again.

  “I’ll try to muddle through.” Melissa caught herself gnawing on her fingernail.

  “Okay. See ya tomorrow.”

  “Okay, bye.” Melissa hung up the phone and spun around the kitchen.

  How would she ever be able to concentrate on math?

  She picked up the phone and dialed Gracie. Gracie’s voicemail clicked on.

  “Hi, it’s Melissa. Gray, guess who asked me to the Sugar Plum Stomp? Call me!”

  Melissa munched the last few crumbs from her bowl. She started to walk back toward the pantry.

  No.

  Last weekend she and Gracie had seen the perfect dress at the mall. She had even tried it on and imagined herself dancing with Beau. Even though she had just met him, she had hoped Beau would ask her but hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up too high. Now she could buy the dress. But she’d need to lose at least five pounds to look really good in it.

  She did twenty-five jumping jacks right there in the middle of the kitchen. Her arms slapping on her legs reminded her of the new sequence she’d learned yesterday at practice.

  And slap, two, three, four, turn around—she rolled her head in perfect tempo—and box step, three, four . . . Melissa stood there. She couldn’t remember what came next. She tried again.

  And slap, two, three, four, turn around, box step, three, four. Nothing. Her mind was blank. How was she going to be picked for an officer if she couldn’t even remember the rout
ine?

  Her neck felt hot and prickly. Her shoulders stiffened. Calm down, Melissa told herself.

  She picked up the phone again and punched the buttons.

  After the beep she exhaled and said in a flurry, “Hi, it’s Melissa. Linds, I’m trying to remember that new step from practice and have completely spaced out. Please call me before it drives me insane.”

  “Okay. Okay,” Melissa scolded herself aloud. “I need to study. This test is tomorrow, and I need an A.”

  Melissa sat back down and picked up her pencil. Her fingers trembled as she tried to set up the next problem.

  She put down her pencil and opened the pantry. She was reaching for the box of Twinkies when the door opened.

  “Hey, Mel,” said Mom. “Caught you with your hand in the cookie jar?”

  Melissa flushed and drew back her empty hand. “Just looking.” Her voice cracked as she said it. “Can’t decide what I want.”

  “Well, how about pizza tonight to give you some fuel for studying? I know you’ve got another big test tomorrow.” Mom walked behind Melissa and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Melissa tensed at the word test, not softening to Mom’s kiss. She was so angry about her Chemistry test. She didn’t want Mom to know she’d gotten a C. She didn’t want Mom to hug her and feel how flabby her tummy was. Mom wouldn’t want to order pizza for her then. She obviously already thought Melissa ate too much, busting her in the Twinkie box and all.

  “Melissa, are you okay?” Mom asked.

  God, what is wrong with me?

  “I’m fine. Fine!” She nodded and smiled. “Beau asked me to the Sugar Plum Stomp. I’m just kind of dazed. You know?”

  “Really? That’s great! He seems like such a nice young man.” Mom put her purse on the counter. “I liked his mom, too.”

  Melissa pulled another root beer from the fridge.

  “We really need pizza now. We need to celebrate!” Mom winked and picked up the phone. “I’ll call Pie in the Sky and put our order in. By the time it gets here, you can allow yourself a study break.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Melissa sat back down. Before Mom could pick up the phone it rang.

  Melissa flinched. What if Beau was calling to cancel? She swung around and knocked over her root beer.

  “Dang it!” she blurted. Her whole body shook as she went to the counter to get a wad of paper towels.

  “Mel, are you okay?” Mom asked as brown bubbles flooded the table. “Hello?” She listened and then nodded. “It’s Lindsey. She says she can’t talk because she’s grounded from her phone, but the step is kick-ball-change.”

  “Thanks,” Melissa answered, wiping up the soda and shaking her head. “Kick-ball-change. Of course, that’s it.”

  / / /

  Melissa’s eyes burned and itched when she finally climbed the stairs. She had done it. She had completed all of the practice problems and reworked her way through the ones she’d missed. Her pointer and middle fingers stung from gripping a pencil for that long. Her parents’ room was already dark.

  Melissa rushed her way through her bedtime routine. She held her toothbrush to her mouth and stopped. She’d better weigh herself before she brushed. The toothpaste calories might make a difference. She stepped on the scale and twisted her mouth. She wanted to lose five pounds—no, maybe seven—before the dance! Melissa patted her tummy. She had already lost two since she started her salad routine over the weekend. Just five more. She could do that.

  She popped on her pj’s, crawled under her thick yellow comforter, and turned on her bedside lamp. Her leather-bound Bible sat on the nightstand waiting for her. They had a nightly date.

  The words on the delicate page blurred. She struggled to keep her stinging eyes open. She forced herself to read the words, although they didn’t register in her sleepy brain. She closed the heavy book and returned it to its spot, clicked off the light, and grabbed her tattered blankie she had kept since she was a baby. Its softness comforted her. She and Beau dancing across the gymnasium floor waltzed through her dreams.

  Chapter Seven

  Melissa spent the next six weeks planning the night of the dance with her friends. They strategized the perfect dates, selected the most fantastic dresses, and mapped out the details of the evening.

  A lot of the kids were going out to dinner before the dance. Melissa knew her parents would never go for an unchaperoned event with boys. She didn’t think most of her friends’ folks would approve either, so the girls had devised a plan. They prepared a fondue feast for their dates at Emma’s house. Some of the parents were there to chaperone and to chauffeur them to the dance. The girls had a blast picking the menu, shopping for groceries, and preparing the food.

  “You look beautiful, my lady.” Beau bowed as Melissa opened Emma’s front door. He looked so handsome in a suit. His crisp white dress shirt contrasted smartly with his dark features. His red-and-white-striped tie looked like a candy cane. It was perfect for the Sugar Plum Stomp.

  Melissa had spent the whole day primping. She had painted her fingers and toes with nail polish, Poinsettia Pleasures, the exact same shade of red as her dress. She had curled her poker straight hair in delicate ringlets, then piled the curls on top of her head like she’d seen in a Brides magazine. She’d even given herself a facial!

  Now she twirled self-consciously in her red satin dress. Some of her friends wore more elaborate gowns, but Melissa stuck with the one she had originally seen with Gracie. She felt as glamorous as a movie star but sucked in her belly, feeling the slick satin against her skin. She had only lost eight of the ten pounds she had eventually decided to lose, and as a result the dress felt tight. Between handfuls of buttered popcorn while watching movies with Beau and the fudge sprinkled with crushed candy canes she and Mom had made for Dad’s office Christmas party, she had cheated on her diet a few times. She didn’t want anyone to notice she was watching her weight.

  “Stop showing off, Yellow. There is soooo much to do,” Emma whined. Emma’s red hair flounced against the back of her strapless emerald green dress as she stomped back into the kitchen in her heels.

  “I’ll help,” Beau said, tilting his head toward the kitchen.

  “No way.” Melissa smiled. “Dinner’s supposed to be a surprise. The other guys are in the family room. Want a soda?”

  Melissa put her hand on the small of Beau’s back and nudged him away from the kitchen. The thick fabric of his suit felt warm to her chilly hand.

  “Sure.” Beau peeked into the kitchen. “That surprise sure smells tasty.”

  Melissa went to the fridge, grabbed a Coke, and took it out to Beau.

  “Yo, Yellow,” Emma barked. “Remember you came in here to help!”

  “Sorry, sweetie. I’m just getting Beau a drink. I’ll be right back.”

  Melissa passed Gracie on the way to the family room. Her lavender tulle dress flattered her petite frame and golden skin.

  “Did Emma yell at you, too?” Gracie whispered so close Melissa could smell the sweetness of her jasmine perfume.

  Melissa nodded, hoping Emma couldn’t hear them.

  “Either it’s that time of the month, or she and her date are not getting along.” Gracie winked.

  Melissa winked back and stole into the safety of the family room. If it was Emma’s time of the month, Melissa was secretly envious. Not that she enjoyed getting her period. It was messy and inconvenient, but it was normal. She had missed her last period, and that was not normal. She’d read articles stating athletes and super-skinny girls were often irregular. She didn’t feel skinny, but she rationalized that dance team counted as a sport, making her an athlete. At least she tried to convince herself that dance was the culprit. But Melissa still felt uneasy about the whole thing. It was such a personal topic. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with her friends, not even Gracie. They’d all think she was crazy.

  When the food was ready, the girls called in their dates, and everyone gathered around the table. Old ja
zz tunes sung by Billie Holiday played from the speakers. Emma clanged her fork against her crystal goblet filled with sparkling cider.

  Ting ting ting.

  “There’s a little game we’re going to play with our dinner, which as you can see is fondue,” Emma bellowed, waving a fondue fork like a magic wand. “For those of you who haven’t fondued, you spear a piece of bread or fruit on the end of your fork and dip it in the cheese—or a piece of steak or chicken into the hot oil.” Her fork pointed to the avocado green pot bubbling with Swiss cheese and the white ceramic pot full of sizzling oil.

  “If your food falls in the pot, you have to trade seats with the person to your left. Got it?”

  Everyone laughed and nodded.

  Beau leaned toward Melissa. “Keep your food on your fork, darlin’. I want to stay close to you all night.”

  Melissa flushed. “We’ll see,” she answered and stabbed a cube of apple on the tines of her fork. She successfully swirled it in the Swiss and savored the tangy cheese clinging to the green apple, slowly chewing the tiny morsel.

  Emma lost her piece of steak on the first try. As more and more people put their forks in the pots, more and more food fell. People forgot whose fork was whose. Melissa was relieved by all of the seat switching and fork mix-ups. It took the pressure off her, knowing no one was watching what she ate. She lost track of how many times she changed chairs, but she knew exactly how many bites of fruit and bread she consumed. After a lot of laughing and teasing, in the end there were only a few strawberry stems and crumbs of bread left on random plates around the table.

  “There’s no more food,” Raven announced. “It must be time to boogie!”

  / / /

  Melissa gasped as she and Beau entered the school gymnasium hand in hand. It was completely transformed. With the pastel tulle covering the walls and the strands of tinsel dangling from the ceiling, the gym looked like the Land of Sweets straight from The Nutcracker. Melissa almost expected to see the Sugar Plum Fairy flitting across the floor.