Love on the Scale

Chapter Six

Sewing buttons onto jackets and pants the next day was a welcome distraction from the pain I felt. James hadn't spoken to me at all that morning, so I'd ran into the closet after he went to makeup, and busied myself with whatever needed doing. For the first time, I didn't ask Maggie what needed to be done; I found things. Fixing up shirts, and mending headbands, hanging clothes up, rearranging them, and so forth.

I didn't pay attention to the models that came in, and I didn't pay attention to the models that left. I used 33% of my mind to work, and blocked out the noise, and people, and Maggie's yelling. I was in the zone. Until a someone stopped next to me and held out a jacket.

"Maggie pointed over here when I told her this ripped. I'm guessing that means you can fix it?" Neil asked in a flat tone.

I took it from him, removing the garment I was mending from the machine. "Uh, yeah. One second." I tried to sound happy. But I couldn't look at him. I didn't want to see the anger he felt for me.

It took some time to locate the tear, my fingers fumbled so much, but I found it under the arm. I wondered why the clothes were so flimsy. Were these the same garments that were sold to people? They weren't very good quality. I must have muttered the fact under my breath, because Neil answered.

"These are first drafts, I guess you could say. The clothes we have to make look good before they go on sale. The final pieces people buy are better made."

"Oh." I didn't dare say anything else as I passed a needle and thread through the fabric with shaky hands.

The needle pricked my finger, and I held in a hiss, continuing as if nothing happened. I became aware of Neil's cologne, something rich and amazing coming off him in waves, and had to focus to keep my mind from wandering. I had to finish so he could leave. He no doubt hated standing next to me. I finished the last stitch, and handed him the jacket without a word.

"You're bleeding."

I looked down. My finger hadn't stopped bleeding like I'd hoped it would. I wiped it on my jeans. "It's fine. I'm fine."

He started to leave, but paused. "Are you?"

I kept my head level. "Yeah."

He waited a few moments, as if giving me a chance to change my mind, before he thanked me, and left. I slumped in the seat, but my relief didn't last long as another shirt came in to be mended.

* * * * *

It was official: James was pissed. So I sat in the closet with Maggie during lunch. She mended clothes while I ate my salad.

Three days had passed since I'd started dieting, and I was hating every minute. I'd never had to worry about calories or portions before. I had to add up the amount of calories I was eating every single time I ate. It was torture. But it was the only way I could change. The doughnut table beckoned to me every time I entered the break room, and this morning I'd almost gotten one.

I was upset about James being mad, and upset about accusing Neil of something he didn't do. They left me alone during the morning meeting, talking to each other instead, and I'd stood in the corner like the freak I was, waiting to escape to the closet. Now I just wanted to go home. Not back to the apartment. Home. With my parents, and siblings. I wanted to crawl back and beg for their forgiveness.

Maggie sniffed as she worked, and glanced up at me. I smiled, and she looked right back down at her needle and thread, frown still plastered on her face. She never spoke to me, unless she had something she needed me to do. I don't think she even knew my name.

She sniffed again, and I ignored it. But she spoke after a minute, as loud and sharp as if she were giving me an order. "I figure I should start payin' you, girl. You do some good work- you know what you're doin'. I'll give you ten an hour, and that's all."