Page 76 of Bewitch

The best version of myself.

CHAPTER22

On Monday, I get in touch with my mom. She’s been swamped at her nursing job, but she promises to have me more information by the end of the day.

I score an A on one of my papers, and I finally brave the scale at the gym. It says I’ve lost all of two pounds. In all of this time… but even I can start to see a little change in my appearance in the mirror, and there’s no denying that my clothes fit so much better. And also, the unwanted attention from guys who I know never would’ve taken a second look at me if it weren’t for my having embarked on this whole workout routine and lifestyle change.

As much as I tell myself that a person’s worth shouldn’t be measured in numbers at all—not the scale number or the digits in the bank account—I know that a lot of people, far too many people, care about those numbers way more than they should. If a girl doesn’t look a certain way, if a guy doesn’t have a car… What does it matter? Looks fade with age, and you can’t bring a car with you when you die. Material things don’t matter.

I know. It’s easy enough for me to say that. Despite my issues with weight all of my life, I’ve never had to worry about money. My mom even hired me trainers before now, but I guess that if you aren’t doing it for you but for someone else, the motivation just isn’t there, and you won’t be able to hack it, not long-term. Drive has to come from within.

Strangely both feeling happy but also a bit melancholy, I head to the gym. Pamela is there, naturally, and she pets the container of protein balls that I brought over yesterday. There are less than ten balls left inside, and I had brought over a ton of them.

“I’ve been a good girl,” she announces. “I’ll have you now that I only ate two so far, and I’ve been here since ten this morning! But I won’t have anymore. I promise. I’ve been giving them out to everyone who comes in, and just so you know, not one person has turned them down. I have had to try to bet hands away from when people leave because almost everyone wants a second one, and I’m trying to ration them.”

“But you got two,” I point out, doing my best to look stern.

“I know,” she wails. “I’m sorry!”

I burst out laughing. “You’re fine. Who knew that my being a foodie could actually be a good thing?”

“It most certainly is,” she assures me.

A girl I haven’t seen before eyes me. “You’re the one who made those treats?” she asks excitedly. “Can I have the recipe! They’re amazing!”

I smile. “Ah…”

“Hey.” A guy I’ve seen around a few times approaches, lifting his chin. “Your name’s Dawn, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Patrick, but my friends call me Pat. You can call me your boyfriend, though. If you want. I was thinking maybe dinner?”

I laugh but actually pause to consider. I’m pretty sure I noticed him before because he was willing to help spot anyone, even girls who had not business trying to push the sort of weight they were attempting and also cheering on another girl when she did a personal best with the chest press. He’s a good guy.

Trying to be subtle about it, I eye him through lowered lashes. Super short hair, a light brown color. Brown eyes. He reminds me of an eager beaver, a cute one.

“You’re late,” Lucas announces, walking up to me, a scowl on his face.

“I’m sorry. I held her up,” Pat says. “You can let me know later, okay? I’ll be around.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I watch him walk off.

“Let’s go,” Lucas says, already walking away.

I turn to the girl. “I need to get to it.”

“It’s okay,” the girl says. ‘I bet you don’t want to give away your secret recipe anyhow. You’re basically the most popular girl in the place now.”

I laugh, incredulous at the idea.

The girl waves to me, and I suppress the urge to run to catch up to Lucas. I incorporate a few of the yoga moves from yesterday into my stretching and sneak peeks his way. He looks pissed.

Why? Because a guy asked me out? Can I dare to believe that he might be jealous?

“Do you want me to try the bar again for chest presses?” I ask.

“No. I want you to work on tension. Lower weights. Slow as hell reps. You’ll be crying.” He smirks at me.

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