I gently pulled her hands from the chair and stood, our chests brushing for a moment. I walked to the window, and Kelsey huffed, falling into my chair.
“This is a lot to consider, Kels.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Of course,” she said, composed. “I don’t expect a decision now.”
“Let me talk to Cord about it, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, rising to her feet and looking at the watch on her thin wrist. “I should go.” She smoothed down her skirt, then held out a palm. She gripped my hand after the shake, though, and pulled in closer. “It could work, Wes.”
I nodded and she kissed my cheek. I expected the same rush from all those years before, but I felt nothing except the dry brush of her lips, and without thinking, I glanced at my phone, hoping to see a message from B.
21
LIKED BY BRIGUYATABOOKSTORE AND 882 OTHERS
I’m a little under the weather today and not my usual witty self, #TeamBritta. Back soon!
* * *
CLAIRE’S VOICE CUT through my thoughts. “Are you listening to me?” She cast a dismissive look across the table at me, and heat rose on my cheeks. It had been a week since my night with Ben. The night when I’d gotten what I wanted without getting anything I wanted. I couldn’t shake the nagging thoughts. I don’t measure up.
“Sorry. What were you saying?” We were meeting about Body FTW, but my head wasn’t in the game. Claire’s work was still outperforming mine. I rarely let that get to me, but I was having trouble fighting the feeling that I didn’t measure up anywhere.
The progress I’d been so proud of in the previous days and weeks seemed pathetic. I’d doubled up on my workouts, and having something to push through felt like a good distraction. I’d gone for longer and longer walks and skipped the dance class in favor of a spin class that kicked my butt, but it didn’t exactly help me forget. When Ben made it clear I could be dismissed so easily, the rejection had washed over me like a wave, and I never wanted someone to have the ammunition to make me feel like that again. RJ would tell me that was ridiculous, and Del would lecture me on having agency, so I’d ignored their texts. Wes had asked about the changes but returned my message earlier in the week saying he was busy with some personal issues and would be slow to respond for a few days. I’d been equal parts disappointed at not getting to talk to him and relieved I didn’t have to explain myself.
Claire rolled her eyes. “I said that we need to mix things up—we could do a week where we’re more intentionally critical of the platforms. Point out shortcomings. What do you think?”
“Sure,” I said, jotting down critical in the notebook in front of me.
“No input?”
“It sounds fine, Claire.”
Claire looked me up and down, eyes narrowing. “You never just agree with me. Are you sick?”
“I haven’t been sleeping well. Maricela has me working on arranging that photo shoot, and it’s been a nightmare. The idea is fine.” My head pounded and my stomach felt cavernous, leaving me a little dizzy, but I attempted a smile.
I assumed my body would adjust and could handle the headaches and dizziness temporarily. My hands shook with all the caffeine I’d consumed to make up for the early-morning trip to the gym.
Claire’s cold expression thawed. “Are you sure you’re okay, Britta? I know we’re competing or whatever, but you don’t look good.”
I didn’t have the energy to scan her words for sarcasm. “Maybe I’m coming down with something, too.”
“Get out of here. You know Maricela’s policy on bringing germs to work.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled. I felt awful, but I’d lost a few pounds in the last four days. No matter what Wes said, those numbers had to matter and were proof it was working. It wasn’t healthy, but I wouldn’t do it forever, just enough to get a boost, just until I felt stronger and could push Ben’s words out of my head. My cheeks heated as I thought back to my promise to the audience to tell them the truth about this journey and my intentions to love my body. Do I love it today? The path I’d jumped onto felt shameful but also seemed like the best option. That said, all I’d heard from anyone else was how I looked tired and sick.
I couldn’t bring that into Body FTW, so I kept writing the same way, putting on a smile and only beating myself up in private.
I glanced at my phone, where a message from Wes was waiting.
Wes: Sorry I’ve been MIA. Family stuff. How’s it going?