So, she told me what to do, and I did it. She was skinny, and I thought she just knew about it. “Steph said she’d been doing it for a long time, and it worked for her. “Kids suck,” Mom mutters as she opens the notebook. “Yeah, well, kids are mean, and they remind me every day that I’ve gotten fat.” A lot of kids go through a phase where they gain weight easily because of hormones, but trust me, it will even out.” “You’re thirteen, and your body is changing. You always say that I’m perfect just the way I am, but I’m fat.” “I told her that I wanted to be skinnier. I think it might be because of this.” I swallow hard and then pass them the notebook, and it all just comes flooding out of me. “They aren’t entirely sure why she passed away in her sleep, honey.” “They’re still running the autopsy,” Dad says softly. “What’s wrong?” Mom asks as she and Dad lean forward. They turn and look at me, and when they see me crying, Dad immediately turns off the TV, and I move to sit in the chair across from them. My little brother, Liam, is already in bed, so I take the notebook downstairs where my parents are curled up on the couch, watching some sci-fi show. Did we do something wrong?Īnd I don’t like keeping secrets from my parents. I could see a difference in how my clothes fit.įor the first time since I found out about her death, I feel tears gather. I don’t blow chunks easily, so it was hard, but it had just started to work. To be accountable, we’d pass this notebook between us and write down what we ate, how much of it, and how long we waited until we threw it back up again. In her handwriting on the cover, it says, Fitness Journal. I pull out the notebook we passed back and forth during lunch from under my pillow and stare at it. I mean, I was at the funeral, and everyone was so sad, and Steph hasn’t been at school. Is letting him in a mistake? Or will it be the best thing I’ve ever done? I have the mended broken heart to prove it and have no intention of doing it again.Įxcept the frustrating man is convincing, and my walls are quickly lowering-especially when I feel responsible for possibly upending his career. It’s so much more than that.īut I’ve been there, done that. All I knew was that I was suddenly pinned under some solid, sexy body, unable to breathe.īut even now, I keep running into Ike in the most unexpected places.Īnd he’s doing everything in his power to convince me that he’s not just a player-in any form of the word. Of course, at the time, I didn’t realize it was the Isaiah “Ike” Harrison, Seattle’s hot new quarterback. It was actually during one of those jogs through the park that I ran into him. I walk the walk-or rather, I run the run. I’m not a trainer who only talks the talk, either. I have millions of followers on social media, and it has absolutely nothing to do with my last name.
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