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Authors: Dona Sarkar

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BOOK: Shrink to Fit
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Yeah, that
was
heavy. That was heavier than most of the guys she knew. It probably wasn't even healthy.

From tomorrow on, no more junk food, no more sitting around after school. Hell, maybe she would go to the gala. If she could manage to not look like the Marshmallow Man in the skinny blue dress, that was. She had two weeks. Who knew? With enough hard work, maybe she would get up enough nerve to ask Jay to the Snow Ball.

She would diet like the other girls and maybe soon she would actually look like them. Leah reached into her pocket and pulled out the shiny pink pill Shazan had given her. She set the pill on the edge of her tongue and swallowed without even a glass of water.

Everything would be different soon. She would show everyone.

three

Misery
198 lbs

“Hey!
You look different. That shirt doesn't make you look as pretty as usual.” Leah grinned as she slid into the passenger seat of Jay's silver Mustang. “Ah, never mind. It was just the light. You're still freaking metro.”

“‘I have to warn you, young lady, I am susceptible to flattery.'” Jay raised an eyebrow, his question obvious.

“Kill Bill,”
Leah answered automatically.

“Volume?”

“Two.”

“Said by?”

“Esteban…Vihaio?”

“Very good.” Jay tugged at Leah's long braid. “Glad to see you still have half a brain after being around the ditz squad.”

“Wow, Jay. Original,” Leah snarked back. “Ditz squad?”

He was planning on asking the queen of the ditz squad out. Men were ridiculous.

Jay glanced over at her. “Are you wearing a dress? What, you have a date with that tutor nerd or something?”

Leah punched him in the shoulder, her heart thudding. No, not for Alan Li. The freshman genius kid who tutored her in math had a very obvious fascination with her, but she didn't think of him that way. She was a foot taller than he and weighed three times as much. Besides, she only had eyes for one person.

Jay glanced at her, curiosity obvious on this face. “No, really. What's going on?”

She sighed, not wanting to admit the truth. The sleeveless black Victoria's Secret sheath had secret panels that held “everything in” according to her mother. Leah had stood in front of the mirror and scrutinized her stomach and butt from all angles and after about ten minutes, was convinced the dress did seem to smooth out bulges. But then, she didn't know if the flatter stomach was due to the smoothing panels or from skipping dinner the previous night after her newfound resolution.

“Laundry day. It was just sitting there in my closet,” Leah muttered. She was a terrible liar. And she usually shared everything with Jay. Almost everything anyway.

Jay turned off her street and onto Peachtree Avenue. Everyone outside California considered Los Angeles to be glamorous and exciting. Actually, the city was plagued by poverty and corruption. An even split between people in the entertainment industry and the working class, the latter getting the shaft in the deal.

As they stopped at a light, Leah watched a homeless man hold out his hand to a bleached-blond waitress as she exited a diner, looking exhausted. She reached into her ragged denim bag and pulled out a few bills, no doubt her tips from the night before. Leah swallowed as she watched the waitress drop the money into the man's hands and his gap-toothed smile in return for her generosity.

Just one mile from her Hollywood Hills home, Leah mused, there were so many people who had problems much worse than not fitting into a four-hundred-dollar dress. She was being ridiculous. Twenty-four hours ago she hadn't given a damn what anyone thought of her. Now she was starving herself for some stupid gala she didn't care about.

But also for the dance. The Snow Ball. She remembered Victoria's words.
If you lost, like, ten pounds, you could easily wear anything you wanted…I bet that boy would notice you in no time if you were on the cover of
Jade
magazine.

Leah glanced at the diner's window. Sausage, Eggs and Toast: $3.99. Her stomach growled. Breakfast had been a protein shake (Victoria's low-carb, low-fat protein powder) with skim milk and one strawberry. Lunch was going to have to be a salad. A big salad.

“Hey, you want to get out of here at lunch and go to In-N-Out?” Jay asked as Sonoma High School appeared at the end of Peachtree Avenue. “I'll buy you a shake.”

“I can't eat that stuff!” As soon as Leah heard the words come out of her mouth, she regretted them. He was going to freak.

Jay hated when girls talked about how fat they were and were diet-obsessed. He made fun of the “Weight Equal to IQ” crowd and always told Leah she should never become like one of them.

“Excuse me?” As predicted, Jay's eyebrows shot up.

Leah avoided his eyes. “I, uh, my mom wants me to do some modeling shoot thing with her. I need to lose some weight first, though. Whatever.”

Jay pulled the sleek car into a compact parking spot. “She always wants you to do stuff like that. When are you going to tell her it's not your thing?”

Leah bit her lip. “Well, this one sounds pretty cool. I mean, there's Kate and Demi and—”

Even as Leah said the words, she realized how lame they sounded coming from her. “It'll be cool. I've never done anything like it before. First time for everything and all. But I really need to get my ass in gear and shed ten pounds.”

Jay slowly pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Well, I guess you could lose a few.”

Leah felt as though he'd slugged her.
She could lose a few?
He, too, felt she was fat? She'd expected him to tell her to shut up and that she was perfect the way she was. Obviously not.

“I mean, I'll help you work out and stuff if you want. I mean, the guys on the team—”

Leah felt her face start to flush red and didn't hear the rest of what he was saying. Jay, her best friend, the one guy whose opinion she valued was even ready to help her lose weight. She flashed back to Jay's last girlfriend. The tiny, ninety-five-pound Kanishtha. That was what he liked. Girls he could wrap his arms around. No matter how much fun he made of those girls, that was what he liked. That was what the whole world liked.

Her weight was obviously the reason they weren't together. If she was thin, she would have him. She would be everything Shazan was.

Leah scowled as she opened the door to the passenger side. “I gotta go.” Her voice, thankfully, was clear. She was doing the right thing. The food thing was going to be a pain, but she would get used to it. The payoff was too good to pass up.

“Hey, Leah!”

“Hmm?” She tried her best to keep her voice from breaking. “Yeah?”

“Meet me in the weight room before practice, huh? I need a spotter. And so do you. And lay off those sundaes. You'll lose what you need to in no time!”

“Mmm.” Leah cursed under her breath. Forget sundaes. She would lay off
all
food for a while. And in two weeks when she unveiled her new body, everyone would be shocked—her mother, the cheerleaders, that lousy Alfreddo guy. And especially Jay.

Leah's heart pounded in time to her footsteps.
Rat-rat-rat.
Like the grillers at Mongolian BBQ pounding meat and vegetables into a scrumptious dish. Her stomach growled. Food—what she wouldn't give for a hot, spicy meal right about now. Barbecued beef with sesame oil, garlic, ginger and that killer hot sauce they used. Leah shoved the thought out of her head. Hot, spicy, scrumptious meals were what had gotten her where she was at that moment.

Damn. She had to stop thinking about food.

Her stomach growled again. A salad and the protein shake. That was all that was keeping her going. She couldn't believe she'd skipped her last class of the day for this. For this torture. She'd been sitting in geometry and all she could focus on was the roll of fat around her waist and her rumbling stomach. Unable to get the vision of herself as a laughingstock at the modeling gala out of her head, she faked a headache and asked to go to the office to lie down. Instead, she snuck down to the weight room.

She wasn't that great of a student, and she'd skipped class plenty of times. Usually it was to go to the beach or shoot hoops. Never to run on a treadmill like an obsessive cheerleader.

She pried her eyes off the distance counter on the treadmill: 2.70 miles. Felt as though she'd been trying to cross the three-mile mark for hours. “A watched treadmill timer never climbs,” she chanted as she watched the clock on the wall, the random episode of
Oprah
on the wall-mounted television. Anywhere but at the distance counter.

Now 2.75 miles.

She snapped her eyes off the counter. Maybe it was broken. There was no way she'd only run .05 miles in the past forever. Maybe she should stop. Jay would be down here any minute. And she still had basketball practice after that. She started to reach for the emergency stop button. No need to have a heart attack on the first day of the Plan.

“‘Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K. Hessle's life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever had.'”

Leah's heard swiveled when she heard a familiar voice quote the familiar line.
“Fight Club,”
she gasped.

“Said by?” Jay asked, circling around the line of treadmills to lean on the arm of Leah's. “Think fast.”

“Agh. Um…”

“Five. Four. Three. Two…”

“Brad Pitt!” Leah burst out with her last breath.

“Good job. Hey, whoa. You did three miles already? How long have you been here?”

Leah hit the emergency stop button as she felt her knees giving out. Three miles. Finally. Three miles in thirty minutes. A personal best. Distraction. All she had needed was a good distraction. Maybe she should have Jay quiz her on movie quotes during
all
her workouts. That seemed to work. She'd barely felt the last three minutes.

Yeah, right.

As if Jay had nothing else to do but watch a chubster try to lose weight. She spurted a shot of water from her bottle onto her face to keep from staring at him. He looked too good. He always did these days.

Perfectly toned and tan in an oversize basketball jersey and navy shorts. Every day she wondered what had taken her so long to notice him. If she hadn't waited for so long, maybe, just maybe, she would have had a chance before.

“Three miles. Big deal,” Leah panted as she grabbed the towel off the arm of the treadmill and swiped her face.

“Yeah, right. Look at you, Marion Jones.” Jay laughed. “Come on. You need more water before we lift.”

Leah shook her head. “I'm not as much of a wuss as you, Little Miss Sunshine.”

“‘Pfft! What's the matter, smart-ass, you don't know any fuckin' Shakespeare?'”

“The Departed.”
Leah recognized the line immediately. Jay had forced Leah to watch that movie three times on opening weekend. Not that she'd minded. During the especially bloody scenes, she'd buried her face in Jay's shoulder, pretending to be grossed out. It was a typical girl move, but, hey, she wanted to be a typical girl.

They'd gone into the theater as friends and when they came out, Leah couldn't stop thinking about Jay's comforting hand on her knee.

“You're good. You might even be better than me.” Jay smirked. “Either you have a great memory, or a hell of a lot of free time.”

“Both.” Leah grinned.

“Shows.”

“Smart-ass.”

What Leah loved most about Jay was he seemed to be the only person who really “got” her. He got her humor and her moods. He also got the fact that she didn't act different around guys and girls. She was only comfortable with people when she was ribbing them, or being ribbed back.

“Think you can keep up with me, princess?” Leah teased as she tucked her towel into the back of her shorts and stretched out her arms. “Don't want you to break any nails.”

Jay smirked as he led her to the weight corner. “Catch.” He tossed her a thirty-pound bar, which she caught easily. “Not bad,” he said, the admiration obvious in his voice.

Now it was Leah's turn to smirk. She flopped down onto a bench and lifted the bar high above her chest. “Don't let this fall on me with your little girl arms.”

Jay stood over her on the spotter position. “Go.”

“One. Two. Three. Four.” The bar started to get heavy after the fifth bench press.

“Come on. Come on. You have five more to go.”

Leah paused in mid-press, studying Jay's face. She'd never noticed the five-o'clock shadow he got under his chin. It, like everything else about him, was exquisitely sexy.

“What?” Jay squinted down at her.

“Dying.” Leah averted her eyes and lifted the weight as high as she could. “Eight. Nine.
Ten.

“Five more. Come on, babe.”

“Liar,” Leah panted. “Cheat. Jackass.”

“Stop yer whining and move! So, uh, did you get to talk to Jennifer today? You guys are in English together, right?”

“Yeah.” Leah continued to lift, pretending to be too out of breath to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, you talked to her, or, yeah, you guys are in English together?”

“English together.” Leah sat up and lowered the bar. “I think I need a forty for my next set.”

“You going to talk to her for me, or do I have to make an ass out of myself in person?” Jay ignored her request and sat down beside her.

BOOK: Shrink to Fit
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