Page 6 of Every Inch of You
“Inevercalled you Fat Brad,” I said. “But wow. You look so…Wow.”
He looked up at me, all gorgeous and painfully expressionless. “Have aseat.”
“It’s so good to see you,” I said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. I straightened up my posture and sucked in my new little pooch belly. “I tried to get in touch with you for solong.”
“I know.” That’s all he said. No apology for never responding. No feigned regret for not keeping intouch.
He had changed his phone number and left town after he graduated, and he’d never responded to my emails. I gave up a few years ago, but I had regretted losing touch with him, and all of the reasons that led him to lose touch with me, all through college. It had somehow never occurred to me that I might find him in Portland. It had definitely never occurred to me that I might find himHOT.
Transformed or not, I was so happy to see him. I had missed him. I wanted to hug him. I put my bag down on the ground and started to reach out to hug him, but he backed away in his chair. Women must try to touch him all the time. I was just some carbo-loaded single lady who was trying to grope him now. I finally sat down in thebench.
I’ve beenbenched.
No Brad foryou!
“What’s it been,” he said. “Eightyears?”
“Yes.”
“When did you move toPortland?”
“Two years ago. When didyoumove toPortland?”
He didn’t answer. He handed me a clipboard with some forms, and a pen. “Welcome to Good Form. Please fill out these medical history forms and this brief questionnaire. No need to go into great detail with the answers, since you were supposed to get hereearlier.”
“Sorry about that,I—”
“Usually I’d have you fill it out in a pdf form before you got here, but I forgot to get your email address from your sister when shecalled.”
“I do still use the same email address I had when we were in high school. The one I kept emailing you from for years even though you neverresponded…”
It was as though he didn’t even hear me. “This questionnaire will be filled out every week, we’ll use it to track your progress. So just fill that out quickly. I’ll be right back.” He got up and went out the door, leaving me to fill out my forms and try to recall exactly why Brad/Mitch seemed to hate me somuch.
We had been total besties the first year that my family had moved from the suburb of Kirkland, Washington to Mercer Island, a small upper class island within the Seattle metropolitan area. We lived a block away from each other and walked to and from school together junior year. We hung out in his basement after school, doing homework, reading and watching TV, and eventually I had suggested we practice kissing on each other. Brad was, at the time, shall we say—pudgy. But I thought he was cute, and he was so funny and nice to me. I closed my eyes every time. I pretended he was Leonardo DiCaprio, or Justin Timberlake (the singer, not the cat). As it turned out he was a great kisser—a natural. Brad’s lips were so soft, his tongue was so smooth. He always tasted like spearmint. We both got to be very good kissers after a lot of practice. But no one else knew what we were up to. I made him promise not to tellanyone.
Senior year, I sort of blossomed, and got to be more popular, so I had more friends to hang out with. It happens. We didn’t spend as much time together, but I still went to his house on weekends quite often, because I didn’t know anyone else who liked to read novels for fun, or who liked to watchTwin Peaks, Lostand30Rock.
But then he asked me to prom, and I had to say no to him. Someone else had already asked me. I felt bad about it. I really did. But he was so mad at me. He never forgave me for the rest of senioryear.
Apparently,he stillhadn’t.
And here I was, looking and feeling worse than ever in mylife.
But I refused to feel bad about things. I was too happy to see him, and genuinely happyforhim. Seeing his yummy face and body had given me even more of a rush than a box of gourmet donuts evercould.
When he returnedto the office, he handed me a bottle of water, took the clipboard from me and read through what I’d written. I stared at his hands. Beautiful hands. No rings. But it was certainly possible that he didn’t wear one at thegym.
What is your ultimate goal for these personal training sessions? — To drop two dress sizes byJune.
Why? — So my sister will be happy with how I look in her wedding photos inJune.
How much water did you drink today? –- Not enough (busy).
What are your strengths? — Determined. Organized. Efficient. Clearcommunicator.
What are your weaknesses? — Lack of portion control.Pastries.
How do you rate your body on a scale of 1 to 10? —6.75
