Skinny Read online

  “Speaking of eating, I’m hungry.” Melissa was getting used to the permanent pit in her stomach, but sometimes it felt emptier than others. She turned toward the kitchen, then saw her yoga mat rolled up by the basement door. “I shouldn’t be eating. I should be working out.”

  She took her mat down the stairs and flopped on the squishy blue foam, extending her legs, and pointing her toes in front of her. She leaned over until her nose touched her knees, feeling the satisfying pull on the underside of her thighs and the insides of her calves. She’d better do some sit-ups.

  “Mel,” Mom called from the kitchen.

  “I’m down here.”

  “Can you come up a minute?”

  “Yeah,” Melissa answered, dreading going into the kitchen. How could she keep from snacking if she was surrounded by food?

  “Are you in the mood for spaghetti or lasagna for dinner? I’m cooking Italian. I just can’t decide what.”

  As Melissa topped the stairs, she saw Mom’s back, peeking in the pantry.

  “Lasagna!” Melissa said without thinking. It was one of her favorites.

  “If I make it, will you help?”

  “Sure, anything for your hot, cheesy lasagna, Mom.” But as soon as she spoke the words, Melissa regretted them. How could she subject herself to such a decadent meal?

  / / /

  In bed that night Melissa felt uncomfortably full of spicy garlic bread and gooey pasta. She hadn’t been able to resist! Her face was warm, and she felt nauseous from the guilt of her gluttony. She read in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians that the human body is home to the Holy Spirit and that we should take care of it.

  Dear God, I’m sorry I ate like a pig. I know my body is Your house and I should take care of it, not cram it with carbs. It was yummy, though. Is that bad? Is it awful to enjoy food so much? I think I shouldn’t be so obsessed with food. It seems selfish. Let me know. Amen.

  Chapter Ten

  The shrill beeps of Melissa’s alarm clock jerked her from her slumber. Red numbers declared it six o’clock in her dark room.

  “Ugh!” She closed her heavy eyes for one second, then forced them open. This was the first Saturday of training sessions with Todd for officer tryouts. She had to be in the gym ready to dance in one hour, but she didn’t feel like she could move. She pulled back her warm covers. The chilly morning air bit her skin.

  Melissa shivered. The hot spray from the shower prickled then finally permeated her goose bumps. She let the heat sink in, waking and warming her.

  After pulling her soft gray sweat pants and matching hoodie over her shorts and T-shirt, she headed downstairs. She knew she should eat something to give her enough energy to get through practice, but she also knew Todd would never pick a fat girl to be captain!

  Melissa rooted through the bread drawer. Blueberry bagels—perfect. She toasted half a bagel and pulled a banana from the fruit basket sitting on the counter. She took the cream cheese out of the fridge and read the label: 10 grams of fat per two tablespoon serving.

  “Wow! I don’t need that.” She decided to just eat a dry bagel.

  “Good morning.” Dad ruffled her hair on the way to the coffeepot. “Early for a weekend, don’t you think?”

  “Morning, Dad.” Melissa sat down at the table. “Rehearsal for officer tryouts. Did Mom tell you?”

  “Oh yeah.” He rummaged through the cupboard for a filter. “I’m really proud of you for doing this. You never know until you try. Right?”

  “Right.”

  Melissa took a bite of bagel and told herself it was just as yummy this way as with cream cheese and so much healthier without it.

  “Did you see Mom before she left?” Dad asked.

  The rich scent of coffee permeated the kitchen.

  “No, she must have left before I came down.” Melissa washed down the dry crumbs with a glass of orange juice.

  “Well, maybe you’ll run into her at the church. She’s setting up that pancake breakfast thing there.”

  “Maybe, but I usually go in the back door, straight to the gym. I’ve gotta run, Dad. See you later.”

  “Yeah, I’m on deadline, but I’ll be writing from the house. Guess we’re all up way too early for the weekend. Come see me when you get home. I’ll look forward to the break.”

  At 6:40, Melissa was out the door.

  The frigid January wind undid all of the warming of her shower, but it also roused Melissa’s senses. She huddled inside her coat as she tromped to the church gym. Even in January the high school gym was booked with boys’ and girls’ basketball, wrestling, and cheerleading.

  Five other girls from the team were already there—four juniors and one sophomore. Melissa was the only freshman. She smiled at her teammates as she unbundled herself. She mentally sized up their abilities. Katie and Julia were sweet girls and good dancers but not very organized or dedicated. They were usually late to practice or forgot their props. J. T. was the most together person she knew and an excellent dancer, but she was quiet. The captain would need to be more assertive. But Stacey. Well, Stacey . . . she had it all! Stacey’s crystal blue eyes didn’t notice Melissa watching her. She was too busy stretching her ever-tan, muscular legs.

  And then there was Jill. Jill sat on a bench completely relaxed. Her clumpy mascara seemed smeared in the early morning. Or was it left over from last night? Melissa tried to like everybody, especially the other girls on the team. But with Jill, it wasn’t so easy.

  “What are you doing here?” Jill glared.

  Melissa smiled and shrugged, wondering why she was here. She was only a freshman. What was she thinking? She glanced at the clock: 6:55. She watched the minute hand tick, hoping no one else would show up. She tried to shrink her limbs into her baggy T-shirt like a turtle hiding in its shell.

  “Okay, ladies, are we ready to rumba?” Todd’s voice filled the gym as he came in the side door wearing faded black sweatpants and an equally faded navy blue sweatshirt. He clapped his hands as he moved front and center.

  All six girls stopped what they were doing and gravitated toward Todd.

  “Good morning! Isn’t it?” He cocked his head and winked, knowing it was early and cold. “This morning is the first day of officer tryouts.”

  Tryouts! Melissa’s inner voice screamed.

  “I thought this was practice for tryouts, Todd,” Katie blurted.

  “Yes, yes. I did say that.” Todd smirked and turned his back on them as he popped on the music. He turned back around.

  “Today we will begin learning the sequence for officer tryouts. But . . . but, but, but there is a lot more to being an officer than performing the routine at the audition in March. I will begin evaluating all of that other stuff”—he waved his hands inwardly together—“starting now.”

  Melissa exhaled. As long as actual tryouts aren’t today! Still, her heart vibrated in her chest as if she’d just done thirty high kicks. Todd would be watching how they learned, how they acted toward one another, what their attitudes were. She rolled her shoulders back, stood up straight, and smiled. She couldn’t control the other girls, but Melissa could take charge of how she performed. I will smile. I will be alert. I will pay attention. I will ask the right questions. I will act like a captain.

  “So how many of you braved it here?” Todd asked. “One, two, three, four, five, and six. Not bad, that’s almost half of our returning ladies. Let’s get started.”

  Boom! Boom! Boom! The music pulsated.

  “I love this song!” Melissa blurted. Her eyes popped open in surprise at herself.

  “You would.” Jill snickered.

  Melissa felt the heat of embarrassment burning behind her ears.

  Todd smiled and squeezed Melissa’s hand as he circled by. “Me too!”

  Melissa didn’t dare look at Jill but could feel her rolling her raccoon eyes.

  “And five and six and follow me.” Todd tapped the waxed wood floor with his left foot. Todd demonstrated the first sequence while t
he girls tried to follow his movements.

  “Now, again!” Todd shouted, shuffling and spinning.

  “Your turn.” Todd started the music again.

  “Pow!” emphasized Todd.

  Melissa shot her right arm up toward the ceiling and her left hand straight in front of her. Both were in perfect jazz hands, and her chin snapped upward. She was staring right into the bottom of the basketball hoop. Was Beau at basketball practice right now? He must be practicing a lot. He hasn’t called in days. Is it just basketball?

  Slap, slap. The sounds of hands hitting thighs and dancers changing positions echoed through the gym.

  “Melissa, care to join in?” asked Todd.

  Melissa felt the searing heat spread from the nape of her neck, up her scalp, and around her ears. Hot tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she fought them back. She spun around to face the back wall and joined in the kick sequence two steps behind the others. She forced a fake grin and concentrated on the routine. This was not the time to wallow in her mistake. It would only draw more attention to her. Todd always said, “If you mess up, act like you didn’t, and the audience will never notice.”

  Two hours later Todd finally announced, “That’s a wrap.” Melissa’s legs fumbled to the bleachers and collapsed. She sucked down half her water in one gulp and wiped her sweaty forehead with the fuzzy towel she had packed in her bag.

  “You look winded,” Jill sneered as she zipped her jacket.

  “What a fun routine.” Stacey bobbed her head from side to side as if still dancing.

  “It is fun,” Melissa agreed. She was thinking to herself, Fun but really tough, but she didn’t want the other girls to think she was incapable.

  Julia grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. “Oh so fun and so very easy.” She overemphasized her words, tossed her head back, and laughed at her sarcasm.

  “Ha, ha, very funny,” answered J. T.

  Melissa popped her earbuds in and pushed play, hoping her fallback band, the Beatles, would drown out her uneasiness. She walked home as quickly as she could, her hood pulled up against the chill.

  She was such a fool! She couldn’t even concentrate on the routine. She had to think about Beau. He probably wasn’t missing shots at basketball thinking about her! The heat of embarrassment returned, spreading all the way across Melissa’s forehead.

  Jill was awful! How could she be so mean? Melissa’s eyebrows felt like someone was pushing them. Her jaw was stiff. Why was she getting so worked up? Why was she even doing this? She would never make captain! She should have slept in!

  Jill’s sneer flashed in her mind. At that moment, Melissa slipped on a patch of ice and fell on her knees, ripping a hole in the knee of her worn pants. Her iPod crashed to the ground, yanking the earbuds from her ears, where they got tangled in the confines of her hood. The notes of Rubber Soul bounced on the ice and dissolved in a pile of snow.

  A sharp stinging throbbed from her knee. The icy pavement bit her crouched legs with cold. The street was empty. She let the tears spill down her face this time. There was no one to see them.

  Dear God, are You telling me I shouldn’t try out? I’m such a mess! I’m awful at Chemistry, Beau hasn’t called, and I’m a big clumsy cow! Are You punishing me? What have I done? What could I do better?

  Melissa untangled the wires from around her head, retrieved her iPod, and wiped it clean on her pants. She stowed the whole contraption in her bag, stood up, and started for home. Melissa stopped at the flashing “Don’t Walk” at the crosswalk. Her tears felt like icicles on her face. She drew her wool letter jacket tighter to chase off the chill. Her tears halted as she felt Beau’s football pin poke her mitten. She wore it on her dance team letter.

  Thinking of Beau’s warm hand placing the cold pin in hers made her smile. She inhaled the crisp January air.

  Please help me do my best, God. Please.

  Melissa stopped herself. She knew she shouldn’t ask God to let her be captain, but it was what she wanted. She lifted her hand to her mouth to nibble her nails but only found wool mittens. She sighed.

  Please help me do the best I can. I’ll do whatever You want. I’ll be less greedy about junk food. I’ll study harder. I’ll practice more. Please? Amen.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brrring. Brrring.

  Melissa jumped from the warm indentation on the couch where she had been watching her favorite show. The rest of her family remained glued to the TV as she darted into the kitchen practically out of breath. She smiled, cocking her head sideways so her ponytail flopped. The number on the caller ID was not Beau’s.

  “Hello?” Melissa straightened her head and closed her grin.

  “Hello, Melissa, it’s Mrs. Gregory. Is your mom there?”

  “Yeah. Just a minute, Mrs. Gregory.” She sulked back to the family room.

  “Mom, phone.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Mom took the phone from her hand and smiled.

  Melissa’s stomach felt hollow like the inside of a chocolate bunny. The corners of her eyes stung. Why wasn’t it Beau? She slunk back into her seat, curled her legs up to her chest, and tucked them under her hooded sweatshirt.

  Ever since school had started back up, things hadn’t felt right with Beau. Sure, homework was overwhelming. She had Saturday morning officer rehearsals on top of regular dance team practice. He was busy with basketball. But Melissa hadn’t seen Beau outside of French and Algebra classes in two weeks. He hadn’t called either. What had she done wrong?

  She reached for a handful of the popcorn Dad had popped. Melissa hoped to fill her empty feeling.

  No, she told herself. I won’t eat it. I can’t make Beau call me, but I can make myself look good. Beau would like me more if I were thin. Todd will think I’d make a better captain. I can control what I eat. I told God I would. She retracted her hand.

  Dad chuckled his deep laugh along with the canned laughter on the TV. Melissa looked up. He was smiling at her. She smiled back as if she also thought the show was funny. She wished Beau was sitting here smiling at her. She missed him.

  Should she call Beau? Melissa shook her head. He hadn’t called her, but she hadn’t called him either. There was something about calling boys. She had never done it. She wouldn’t let herself start now. Mom was on the phone anyway. Maybe when Mom got off . . .

  Ten minutes later Dad stood up. “Good episode. It’s always so funny.” Melissa felt a tug on her ponytail as Dad left the room.

  “Dad!” He’d been pulling her ponytails as long as she could remember.

  Melissa stood, looked toward the ceiling, and nibbled on her index fingernail. She walked into the kitchen. She tilted her head and wiggled her fingers. She was thinking about calling Beau. She rocked back and forth from her toes to her heels. Her shoulders relaxed when she heard Mom.

  “I think we’re supposed to be there by ten thirty so we can get places set and drinks poured before they open the shelter for lunch.”

  If Mom was still on the phone then Melissa couldn’t call Beau. She exhaled. One less thing to worry about.

  “Okay,” she muttered to herself, “I have to read those crazy French articles and do all those Algebra problems before I can go to bed.” She grabbed her backpack from the laundry room and unzipped it. “And write a poem for English!” she yelled at herself. “Aaagh!”

  Mom covered the mouthpiece on the phone. “You okay, Mel?”

  “Yeah. If you call having thirty-eight hours of homework to do okay. No, really, I’m fine. Totally fine.” She shrugged her shoulders, and trudged to her room.

  She dropped her books on her desk and pulled out her pj’s. “I might as well get comfortable,” she said and sighed. As Melissa undressed, she looked in the mirror. Her stomach seemed to protrude more than normal. Her thighs jiggled like Jell-O when she moved. She pulled on her snuggly flannels with the kitten print as fast as she could. She liked the way their loose fit hid her body.

  “I need to get skinny.”
r />   She went back down to the kitchen to get her usual study snack, but with the willpower of a monk she grabbed only a diet root beer and a glass of ice. A cool calm filled Melissa’s veins. She felt more in control than she had in days. She set her music to play Beethoven, “thinking music,” she always called it. She stacked her homework carefully in order of importance. She plowed through French, Algebra, and even wrote a decent poem. Things didn’t have to be overwhelming. She just had to be in charge of them. She couldn’t let homework and Beau and dance rule her. She stayed up late, but she got it all done. When she finally closed her eyes, sleep immediately took over her tired brain and empty body.

  She woke up exhausted but ready for her new plan. She weighed herself before and after showering. She weighed more afterward, which sent her pulse racing like a food processor. “No,” she said out loud. “I only weigh more now because of all this wet hair. From now on I will only weigh myself with dry hair.”

  Downstairs she moved methodically, toasting a blueberry bagel, skipping the cream cheese. She started to pour a glass of orange juice but, noticing the caloric content of an eight-ounce serving on the carton, stopped at half a glass. She filled the rest of the glass with filtered water from the fridge. Melissa pulled out a shiny silver teaspoon and stirred. The small spoon clanged against the glass four times. She sat down at the table and took small sips and bites, enjoying the sensible breakfast she had prepared.

  “See, I can still eat and be healthy and be on time for school.”

  As she loaded her dishes in the dishwasher, Mom and Dad came down still in their robes.

  “Good morning, Mel,” Dad mumbled as he shuffled his slippers toward the coffeemaker.

  “Good morning, sweetie.” Mom softly kissed the top of her head.

  Beep! Beep! Tanner’s horn blared from the driveway.

  “Good morning, good-bye.” Melissa laughed as she buttoned her coat. “Have a great day!” She felt good—really good. As she walked toward Tanner’s car humming in the driveway, she began strategizing how to get through the rest of her day.