Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 41-One Big Monster

While I didn't have much—ok, any—dating experience, it seemed like a universal truth that one could learn a lot about a guy just by figuring out who he used to date. Bradley's nervous look as we shared a plate of nachos at the tiki hut already told me that learning about his ex-girlfriend Tami would be a very telling experience.

"It's simple," he said with a shrug. "We met in high school. We started dating as sophomores. At first it seemed great but it became ugly toward the end of our senior year. She didn't want me to take the football scholarship because she was worried I'd meet a cheerleader and forget her. I deferred for a year, but it still didn't make her happy. I finally left for school despite her protests. Once I started college, she fell apart. She'd call me at three in the morning to see what I was doing, or yell at me for leaving her, or sometimes she'd randomly show up at football practice to make sure I hadn't lied. That kind of stuff."

My eyes grew with every sentence. I set down my sweating glass of water. "Really?"

He gave a lopsided smile. "Yeah."

"When did you break up?"

He exhaled a long breath. "Last October. I should have broken it off when I left for college, but I didn't. I felt too guilty and obligated. We had so much history together."

The calculation didn't take long. Bradley and I had met on Facebook in December. He hadn't been single all that long when we'd connected. And now he was finishing his junior year of college.

"Why didn't you break it off before October?" I asked. "Why stay with someone who obviously doesn't trust you?"

"Because I felt like I owed it to her. We'd been together for so long. She told me all the time that she deserved better, that I owed her more than leaving for college without her."

I grimaced. "Sounds abusive."

"Crazy," he corrected, trying to make light of it with a lopsided smile. Beneath the joking exterior, a true layer of uncertainty still lived. "She just needs someone that isn't me, and I wish her all the best."

His tone had a final edge that told me he'd say no more. Despite his forced nonchalance over the subject, I couldn't help but get the sense that he hadn't entirely moved on. Tami's influence obviously still lived on in his life. He leaned forward, recapturing my attention from the confusing cloud of thoughts.

"Listen, Lexie, I didn't bring Tami up to freak you out. I didn't really mean to bring her up in the first place. I just . . ." He hesitated. Our eyes had locked and I found myself swimming in the muddy depths, feeling a bit lost myself. "I have a really good feeling about what you and I could be, but I don't want to screw anything up. I just need a little more time to figure out if I'm ready to make something happen. That is, of course, assuming you want anything to do with me."

My stomach caught. I stifled a little gasp of surprise before it surfaced. I have a really good feeling about what you and I could be. . . assuming you want anything to do with me.

Was he kidding? I wanted to grab his face and kiss him until he turned blue.

But you aren't ready either, something whispered from deep inside me. Not yet. Not quite. No matter how much you want to be. There's still something left you haven't faced.

The sudden, painful lump in my throat didn't swallow so easy.

"I see," I said when the silence stretched too long and I realized he was waiting for me to answer. He straightened, a flash of panic in his eyes, and held his hands up palms out.

"Look, I'm sorry if this was too straightforward. I just . . . Tami played stupid games with my head all the time so I promised myself that next time I felt interest in a girl, I'd be straight about it. And I think you're awesome, Lex. So here I am, being straight about it."

"I-it's not too straightforward," I said. "I don't mind."

His tense shoulders relaxed with a half-strength grin that looked mostly like relief. "I mean, we have just gone on the world's worst date, and you still haven't run away screaming. I figured that was a sign."

I grinned. "A good sign."

"So what do you say, Lex? Are you willing to give me a little more time to figure my crap out before we try to make something awesome? I won't to ask you to bring more to the table than I can."

My heart hammered inside my chest. He didn't know the skeletons in my closet; he'd been too much of a gentleman to even ask. He didn't know that I was still a fat girl crying for her dad. Or that I still battled daily cravings for Little Debbie Cosmic Brownies and had to walk past Papa Johns with my breath held so I didn't run inside and stuff my face with breadsticks.

Despite all my work with dieting and improving my health, there was still one growling monster in my closet that I had yet to confront.

One very big monster.

"I think that's a very reasonable request. Let's both work out our lives. I'm not . . . I'm not entirely ready either."

My response deflated his nervousness like a released balloon. The relief in his smile was so genuine that I couldn't help but smile myself.

"Thanks, Lex. I can't tell you how much better I feel."

Despite the small obstacle of admitting my history—my food-wrapper-riddled past—I felt the same way. Better. I couldn't let him truly know me without explaining that sugar and chocolate constituted a large part of my past. But I had the feeling he wouldn't care about it as much as I did.

You're not ready.

"Yeah," I smiled. "I feel better too."

______________

I returned from my date with Bradley with a thousand thoughts flying through my head.

Mom and Kenz were in bed, and the house lay quiet and dark. Instead of waking Mom up—although I knew she wanted to hear about Bradley—I left her a note. Normally I wouldn't have even bothered telling her, but the ice had cracked between us, and I wanted it to keep thawing, so I suggested we talk about it over breakfast.

I didn't bother turning on the light when I slipped into the basement lair. The wheels of my computer chair squeaked when I sat down. My monitor flickered to life, displaying my favorite picture of Dad and me at a baseball game. I wore a backwards hat and my last true smile. Dad had died not long after.

One last monster, my inner voice reminded me. You're not ready yet.

No, I responded. I'm not.

Just behind the computer, tacked to my cork board, was the flyer Rachelle had given me months before for the editing internship. The voice of my advisor, Miss Bliss, rang through my head.

What are you passionate about? Figure out what you are passionate about and the story will write itself.

My true passions were easily enough identified. Facing them all together, however, was not. I cracked my knuckles, opened up a word processing document, and put my fingers on the keyboard. Tonight, I would write. Tonight, I would face my monster.

Tonight, I'd start figuring out just who Lexie Greene really was.

I have a summer bash surprise! A post per day this week. That's right. One post. Per day. All week. 

To celebrate this mega-thon of Lexie, I've uploaded the final, official cover as designed by my extraordinary book cover designer, Jenny with www.seedlingsonline.com. Do you love it like I do? Talk to me about Lexie's monster.

MUAH.