Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Emma, stop,” my mom scolds. “It’s not that. Your hair is fine as it is.”
I’m taken aback and wonder how this change came about.
“Really?” I ask suspiciously. “Then what’s wrong?”
My mom looks off into the distance for a moment before taking a deep breath and meeting my eyes.
“Well, Daddy and I have been talking,” she begins. “You’re a little big for a young woman, and we were thinking you might like to go to diet camp sometime. On our dime, of course.”
I stare at her.
“What? Diet camp? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Emma, don’t sound so shocked,” my mom says. “The last time you went to the doctor, he said you had fatty liver, remember? This is a health issue more than anything.”
“NO!” I screech. “He didn’t say that. He said I might get fatty liver if I keep gaining weight, but I haven’t put on any pounds since my last appointment. If anything, I’ve dropped a little, so there’s no chance of fatty liver. And I will not go to diet camp! Absolutely not! This is really insulting.”
My mom shakes her head, looking exhausted.
“Emma, will you stop with the fireworks? Daddy and I just want to help. We’re worried about your health—”
“Please,” I interrupt rudely. “This isn’t about my health at all. It’s because you don’t like the fact that you have a fat daughter. It’s embarrassing to you guys.”
My mom holds up a delicate hand.
“Maybe that has something to do with it, but it’s not our primary motive for sending you to diet camp,” she begins.
But I won’t take this anymore. This is so humiliating and embarrassing! My own mother wants to send me off to some summer school for fat girls where they’ll starve me and make me feel bad about myself. No thank you!
“Emma, stop sulking,” Mom scolds. “This is very hard on me, you know.”
Hard on her? What about me? I sit there for as long as I can stand it, picking at my food, while she drones on and on about some rich girl fat camp in the Appalachian Mountains. Of course, it’s in a private bunker away from society so that we won’t be tempted to eat.
I hate that though! Eating’s not a crime. Trying not to cry, I nod as my mom’s words wash over me while staring at my plate. When the meal is over, I rush upstairs and climb into bed. It’s late, and I’m emotionally exhausted. A few tears trail down my cheeks and I stare at the ceiling. What did I do to deserve this? It isn’t long before I drift into sleep, my thoughts a mix of food, Dane’s muscular form, and my mom’s on-going jabs.
On Monday, I force myself to forget what my mom said. There’s no point in dwelling on it. Instead, I get up and shower before dressing in my favorite jeans and driving to school. Park University isn’t much – I’m not really a great student – but I’m eager to get out of the house and see Lacey. I still haven’t decided whether to tell her about Dane. I dreamt about him all night long and when I woke up, my clit was tingling. I had to resist the urge to stick my fingers in my panties and rub myself.
Part of me wants to keep Dane a secret, like he was something that belonged to me and me alone. But the other part of me is dying to shout from the rooftops about how amazing he is.
I pull into the parking lot and begin the slow walk to the building where my first class is. My ankle is still sore – it swelled overnight, and I’m having a much harder time walking than usual. A bunch of lacrosse players jog by and my heart lurches at the sight, but thankfully Travis isn’t with them.
Making my way into class, I sit towards the back. I haven’t even had the chance to pull my phone out of my purse when I see Lacey moving closer with a big grin on her face.
“Hey, you,” Lacey says. She smirks at me as she drops down into the neighboring chair. Lacey is tall, thin and blond: basically, my polar opposite. We have nothing in common, aside from the fact that we’ve been best friends for over ten years.
“Hi,” I reply. “How was your weekend?”
“It was lame,” Lacey says dramatically. She yawns with her jaw agape and rubs her eyes with both hands. “How was hiking?”
I swallow nervously. “It was a complete disaster,” I say quietly. At the memory of being abandoned in the woods, my cheeks burn with shame. “The whole thing was a prank. Travis left me in the middle of the woods.”
“Fuck him,” Lacey says. She snorts. “He’s a lame frat boy.”
Her words recall Dane’s and I nod. “It was really cruel of him,” I agree. “But I’m sure he’s a nice person deep down. He’s probably just acting like this because his friends put him up to it.”