Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 18-Head and Heart

The next week passed in a string of similar days.

School, work, Rachelle spouting off about her recent conquests with the gamer, chat with Bradley at night on Facebook, avoiding McKenzie and her constant stream of wedding plans, and fall asleep watching weight loss television.

"It's getting old, don't you think?" I asked Mira Wednesday evening while waiting for Bitsy to finish filling up glasses of ice water in her kitchen. Mira lifted an eyebrow in silent question. "Counting calories, I mean."

My smart phone glowed in my hand while I punched in my numbers for the day. I hadn't eaten dinner yet—on purpose, of course—and still had three hundred calories left. Another salad for me.

"It got old the first day," Mira replied.

"It was revelatory at first. Who knew pickles didn't have calories? Maybe even there was a sense of adventure in the change, but now it's just annoying. I mean seriously. We have to count everything?"

Mira held up her hands in praise. "Hallelujah, my friend."

Despite my grumblings, counting calories seemed a lot less painful than seeing the scale creep back up again, so I chose the lesser of two evils and forced myself to be honest. Okay, I'd snuck in an extra pat of butter at lunch. So maybe I only had two hundred and fifty calories left.

"Welcome to the third week of the Health and Happiness Society," Bitsy declared, handing out water. Her eyes had a subtle hint of redness to them, though it could have just been the poor light in the room. The distant sound of girls shrieking came down the back hall.

"As always, let's get started with the weigh in and get the worst part over with. I'm going to talk with you today about eating our exercise calories back. Should we or shouldn't we? Mira, you're first. Lexie, you'll be last."

Mira hopped up first wearing a bright blue muumuu with palm trees on it that I hadn't seen since we celebrated Christmas together when I was thirteen. Her face didn't seem as bloated that evening: a definite sign of progress.

By the time my turn came, Mira and one of the men were chatting quietly about the benefits of using an ab roller. "I'd fall right on my face," Mira said when Bitsy called me back.

"Lexie, you're up."

Bitsy walked just behind me down the hall, like a prison guard escorting a criminal. I felt like I'd done something wrong by the time I turned into the small bathroom, and wondered if she knew about my shameful bad day.

"Mira said the two of you had a tough beginning last week," Bitsy said, pressing her lips together in an inscrutable expression I couldn't read. "Want to tell me about it?"

Not on your life.

"Bad day, that's all," I said, sliding out of my flip-flops. I'd worn my lightest black pants and a simple t-shirt. Normally I chose my outfits based solely on how many of my love handles would show, but I didn't care about that as much at the group meetings. All I wanted was lower numbers, baby. Fashion be banned.

"Step on. Let's see if your bad day damaged your scale day."

I closed my eyes and stepped on the scale, feeling like a coward because I didn't want to see the results. Interminable seconds ticked by.

"Well?" Bitsy asked. "Aren't you going to look?"

I peeled one eye open and glanced down. 252.

Bitsy consulted the clipboard of power that she kept on the sink. "You lost two pounds this week. That's really good for week two, Lexie. Looks like your bad day didn't hurt you too much, though we'll never know, will we?"