Life in the Fat Lane by Cherie Bennett

Author:Cherie Bennett [Bennett, Cherie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-56921-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

“You what?” Molly yelped.

“I broke up with Jett.”

It was two days later, and Molly had just come over to my house. She’d called many times before, but I’d never answered—I just let the machine pick up. Since Mom and Scott were still in Los Angeles, there were no witnesses to my spiral down into the depths of despair. Until Molly had arrived, all I had done since I’d turned my back on Jett was lie in bed and weep.

And I came to a conclusion: You probably really can die from a broken heart.

I’d wanted to call Jett, so many times. But I stopped myself. As much as it hurt, I knew that what I had said to him had been the truth. One part of me said: So what? Wouldn’t you rather just be grateful that Jett still loves you, and keep him, than break up with him and be alone?

The other part of me, the part where I still had any self-respect at all, said no. It would all be a big lie. He wanted to leave, he just didn’t want to be the one to say it. You did the right thing.

The right thing. Big deal.

Knowing that didn’t make me feel any better. The heart is not such a strong muscle. The truth is, I would have gone back to him in a millisecond, would have flown back into his arms. All he needed to do was pick up the phone and call me, tell me that I was wrong, that he loved me as he always had. Even if we both knew that was a lie, I was weak. I wouldn’t have cared and I would have been so happy, at least for a little while.

Only he didn’t call. Not once. Oh, God, he didn’t call.

Mom called from Los Angeles. Molly called four times. I heard their messages on the answering machine. Jett never called.

Molly finally came over to see what was wrong. She found me huddled in bed in my bathrobe, unwashed, unbrushed, un-anythinged.

She asked me if I was sick. That was when I told her what had happened. Saying it out loud made the pain even worse.

“You’re telling me that of the few great guys on this planet, you actually broke up with the greatest of the great?” Molly asked. “Has Axell-Crowne destroyed your brain stem?”

“He isn’t in love with me anymore, Mol,” I said, wiping my red-rimmed eyes with a tissue.

“Of course he loves—”

“Don’t you get it?” I cried. “He isn’t attracted to me anymore. He was staying with me out of pity!”

“I don’t believe that,” Molly said firmly.

“Well, it’s true.” Then I told her that he was going to Visual Arts this fall. “He applied months ago. I wasn’t even that fat then. It hurts so much, Molly.”

She sat down next to me and opened her arms, and I dived into them. Then I sobbed even harder. We sat there together on my bed, and she rocked me like a baby. When my tears slowed, she plucked a handful of tissues from the nightstand box and handed them to me.

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