chapter 1

I tossed and turned in bed, rotating between staring at the ceiling and squeezing my eyes shut. Tomorrow, now today, I thought, glancing at my watch, I'd hear back from the hiring managers from last week's job fair.

I thought about how I looked at the fair, in my spotless size 00 skirt, my ironed out white tee, and my shining sorority pin gleaming from my chest. It was a small addition, but every manager grinned when they saw the letters. The letters showed my commitment to the group, something I spoke about with pride as I introduced myself to the managers.

Surely, being captain of the women's tennis team and vice president of my sorority's philanthropy efforts would score me an internship offer this summer. My perfect scores in all the nutrition courses I'd taken launched me to the top of my class, and my professors tipped me off about my valedictorian status. Since I'd finished all my classes early, I was set to stroll across the stage as the perfect 4.0 honors nutrition student. All I had to do was take a throwaway class each semester and finish up a mandatory internship.

Before dozing off, I thought about the different companies that approached me. Tastee's Diet Group, Nutty for Nutrition Education, Fruits in a Boom Smoothies, and Skinny Sisters Three.

I grinned when I thought about Skinny Sisters Three. Their veggie-laden meal plans got me through tennis trainings all four years of college. My closest sorority sister and best friend, Lily, was my Skinny Sisters Three partner. Skipping the school cafeteria, we sustained ourselves on palm-sized meals and maintained our perfect figures despite vodka shots on the weekends.

Although Lily and I visited the Skinny Sisters Three booth together, I was sure that the lady there liked me better. After all, Lily always had to suck in whenever she borrowed my 00 shorts. I glanced across the room to my chair, smiling at the 00s hanging off the back. They slipped right on me, and when I was seriously dieting, they'd need a belt to stay on.

Skinny Sisters Three would want somebody who could fit into company culture and live out their mission statement. Of course they would take me, I murmured as I fell asleep.

I awoke to the sound of my 5:00 a.m. alarm. On five hours of sleep, I was surprised that I made it onto my feet. Looking at my phone, I grimaced at the lack of notifications. The only message I had was from Lily, who was telling me she'd be a little late to the community dance class we taught at 5:30 a.m..

As an initiative that I came up with my sophomore year, our sorority started hosting early dance classes at the community center near our college town. Since it was so early, we though nobody would show up, making it easy for girls to goof around with the frat guys who would work out in the second level weight room.

I smirked, thinking that Lily's tardiness would mean less competition. I hopped out of bed, grabbed a pair of yoga pants, and slipped them over my underwear. After brushing my teeth and grabbing my bag, I headed out the door and down the stairs, ready for the short two mile jog to the center.

During my run, I passed a few porkies on the loop. It was hard to miss them lumbering down the middle of the trail, stuffed into tight spandex that had only experienced the sweat of a half-hearted jog. It was usually mothers who showed up the most, and the same type who would show up to dance.

Don't get me wrong, they didn't show up often, the fatties. Both on the trail and in dance, there was a steady rotation of chubby, overweight, and obese mothers looking to "commit" to exercise. They usually flopped their arms around, jiggled some cellulite, and attempted some form of cardio.

I felt bad for them, especially when we had jumps in dance practice. The thuds on the wooden floor were the least surprising part. Their thighs would clap together, bellies would spill out of shirts, and breasts would swing violently, dragging the skin and fat down with each hop.

Soon, the pain of the moving for a few minutes would get to them, and they'd sit out for a while, chugging sugary energy drinks and gobbling high-calorie protein bars for "energy." When they got back up, they would be sluggish and slow, groaning because of cramps caused by the sloshing liquid.

I dodged a mom walking on the route, having given up on running. She smiled at me as I passed, her chubby cheeks flushed and angry. Her dump truck of an ass was wobbling in her shorts, spilling from the sides and peeking out from her shirt.

"You look lovely, dear!" she yelled at me as I passed her. I snorted, and called back at her, "You can too!"

I smirked when she didn't reply. Serves her right, putting away all those extra calories into her legs and belly. Hopefully she'd be inspired by my fit frame to drop those pounds.

As I approached the rec center, I could see the dance room through the glass doors. There were usually a group of early birds sipping their sugar-laden coffee by this time, but I only saw one lady stretching in front of the wall-length mirror.