Page 12 of Every Inch of You
I could have told her that I loved her rightthen.
But Ididn’t.
I suppose that was the very beginning of my transformation intoMitch.
I told her not to tell anyone, and that technically I never really asked her to go with me—I just told her I didn’t want to go without her. She promised she wouldn’t tell, thanked me for sort of asking her, and left with the book and therose.
Next day, Hot Brad stood up on a table and yelled out in the middle of the cafeteria at lunch: “Hey, anybody want to go to prom with Fat Brad? He asked Vivian but she said ‘no’ cuz she’s going with me! Anyone? Anyone? No? Sorry, man. We tried.” He finished off by tossing a hot dog, fries, and a handful of Cheetos at me and telling me to eat my feelings. He was so generous. His idiot buddies followedsuit.
Vivian was there, sitting frozen at the popular table, staring down at her food. I know, because I watched her the entire time, until I threw my tray down on the floor and stormed out of thecafeteria.
She kept trying to apologize to me after that. I didn’t respond to her calls, texts or emails. I didn’t come to the door when she went over, told my parents I didn’t want to see her. They had been under the deluded impression that Vivian and I had been dating and we just broke up. She tried to explain that Other Brad had seen her walking home with the book and the red rose and forced her to tell him who gave her therose.
I didn’t want to hear her excuses. I not only felt used and then tossed away like some toy she’d outgrown, but I was publicly humiliated by the worst person Iknew.
Needless to say, I didn’t go to prom. Later I’d heard through the grapevine that Vivian and Hot Brad did it in a hotel room on prom night. I immediately unfriended her onFacebook.
She kept emailing and texting me even after we’d graduated. She wanted me to know how much she’d lovedThe Hunger Gamesand that she pictured me as Peeta when she read it. When I moved to Portland to go to college I changed my number. My parents sold their house on Mercer Island and moved to a cheaper suburb, so her parents lost touch with them and I guess she didn’t know that I had moved toPortland.
She’d emailed me the night after the pilot episode ofGame of Throneshad aired on HBO to ask if I’d seen it. I had, of course, and I was dying to talk to her about it. But I didn’t. She emailed me the week the movie version ofThe Hunger Gamespremiered. I didn’t reply. By then, I had my new body and had already had sex with more women than I’d ever dreamed of having sex with in my entirelifetime.
So that’s what happened.It’s not like she left me at the alter, but believe me—when we were kissing in my basement I was pretty sure she’d be my wife one day, and I did not enjoy the realization that she wouldn’t even go to prom with me, much less down theaisle.
Inever really thought about whetheror not I believed in fate before—but I also hadn’t believed in love at first sight until the first time I saw Vivian Sparks. I moved to Portland to start my life over, so I didn’t have to see anyone from high school again—especially Vivian. But then I find out that Vivian moved to Portland to be with her boyfriend and her boyfriend dumped her, which led to her weight gain and her sister’s decision to hire her a personal trainer? Come on. We were destined to be reunited—so I could make her understand what it felt like for me back then. I’m not saying she’s the fat one now—she’s not. But she’ll want me as much as I wanted her. That’smysecret goal for our sessions, and I won’t stop until we’ve achievedit.
Is it her fault that people treated me like shit just because I was overweight? Of course not. Do I understand why she wanted to lose her virginity to an asshole who bullied me instead of to me—her best guy friend who loved her? Sort of. Is it fair that I blame her for all of my high school misery? Absolutely not. Is life fair? NO. If anything, I’ve learned how to turn my anger and frustration into workout fuel, and that will be my gift toher.
Fuck.
Thinking about making out with her in my basement and how she’d just shown up, out of the blue, into my well-planned structured life just made me confused and angry again and somehow even hornier. As much fun as I was going to have torturing her with ab work, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy forme.
I could handle my feelings about her in the past. Handling my feelings for her now, in the flesh, would be something else entirely. Since opening the gym, I usually only agreed to train men, happily-married women or couples and Baby Boomers, so I was less inclined to be attracted to the women, and always had an easy out if a client tried to hit on me. If an attractive woman came in saying she needed a trainer to get her ready for bikini season, she was assigned to Sebastian the gay trainer, no discussion. If a woman had just gotten dumped and wanted to get back into shape so she could feel good about herself again—she’d be training with anyone else but me. Unless that woman was VivianSparks.
Christ, I felt sixteenagain.
Especially when I got a text fromVivian.
It was a photo of a salad. She must have gotten takeout. Huge salad with shredded cheddar cheese, blue cheese crumbs, balls of fried chicken. Okay, it looked delicious, but she could not continue to eat like that if she’s training withme.
I wrote back:Enjoy it. In the future, while you’re training with me, here’s what your salads will look like: Organic Romaine lettuce, organic raw kale massaged in olive oil (to make it easier to digest), tomatoes, orange or yellow organic bell peppers, avocado, pistachio nuts and or pumpkin or sunflower seeds for crunch, olive oil and lemon juice for dressing. As a parmesan cheese sub you can top it all off with nutritional yeastflakes.
Vivian: If that’s a joke I’m notlaughing.
Me: Bragg’s nutritional yeast flakes have a delicious umami flavor and lots of B vitamins. Look intoit.
Vivian: What aboutcroutons?
Me: Nocroutons.
Vivian: What about gluten freecroutons.
Me: Gluten free does not = fat free and there aren’t enough nutrients to justify addition to an otherwise healthy salad. Do you really want to argue with me aboutcroutons?
Vivian: Kindof.
Me: Good night. Don’t forget to stretch thoroughly before bed and first thing in the morning. And NOpastries!
She didn’t write back.She was probably too busy enjoying her last fully-loaded salad formonths.
I did a hundred crunches, thirty burpees, and jumped rope before I was finally able to get her out of my head and get on with mynight.
