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O N E
I tried my best to make the walk from my bedroom to the living room the longest, but I couldn't. Mom was sitting on the couch, working on her laptop. Soon, she looked up from the bright screen and beamed at me.
What was she so happy about? I was just going to a place with a stupid name that'd be crowded with sweaty people.
I shook my head slightly.
"I'm so happy," she grinned.
I blinked a few times. "Me too."
Mom held me by my shoulders and smiled at me. I smiled back, not knowing what else to do.
"I'm proud of you, Lizzie."
"Me too."
Before she could get more emotional, our doorbell rang.
"I think it's Olive," I murmured.
I walked past mom and headed for our main door. When I opened the door, I smiled at Olive. She had her arms folded across her chest with no expression on her face.
She was wearing a yellow tank top with white shorts and her wavy hair was resting on her shoulders.
"Hey," I greeted.
"Hey."
Mom's footsteps became louder as she edged towards the door and I tightened my grip on the doorknob.
Mom came up and stood beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
"Let's go," I whispered.
Olive nodded.
"Bye mom."
"Bye, Liz. Don't forget to sweat it out!" she laughed.
I rolled my eyes.
Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath.
"I think milking the cows was a better option," Olive sighed.
I didn't feel like replying her. For a minute, I tried to convince myself that I could live without my pocket money. I didn't like a thing about exercising and somewhere, on the inside, I had a feeling that unexpected things would happen.
I glanced at Olive as we walked together. She had confidence in herself, but I didn't. She could talk to anyone freely, but I couldn't. I don't understand why everyone wants to please the world so bad. Most of the times, people change themselves because they want to impress others. Nobody thinks about standing out; everyone just wants to fit in.
I had made plans for myself already. I had thought that I'd wake up late, probably at noon, but here I was, going to a fitness camp.
"How about we go to McDonald's?" I asked.
Olive raised her eyebrows at me. "It's seven, seven in the morning. Do you ever stop thinking about food?"
"Oh, shut up."
She was right; I always thought about food. And why not? I was addicted to eating junk food. It tastes so great that you can never help yourself.
After about ten more minutes, we reached our destination. It was a huge park, located in the middle of the city.
Walking forward, we found something weird. Outside the park, there was a huge board with a picture of a fit guy eating a carrot. Fitness for Dummies was written in red bold letters.
"Oh boy," Olive sighed.
There were a few arrows painted on the leafy trees and soon we began to follow them. The park was unexpectedly enormous and there were trees everywhere, surrounding the whole place.
The park was divided into various sections. My eyes landed on the laughing group across from us. After every two seconds, they threw their arms in the air and laughed loudly. Most of the members were old people.
I knew I was at the right place when I saw people like me. Soon, we joined the other people standing in different groups. Some looked like me--fat and some looked like Olive--normal. There wasn't a huge crowd, but only thirty-forty people. All of them were either wearing tracksuits or clothes that you wear when you know you're gonna sweat it out.
I was wearing track pants with an over-sized dark blue T-shirt. I didn't like to wear body hugging clothes because they'd clearly display the real me. Loose clothes gave me comfort.
Someone blew a whistle and everyone turned their heads in the direction of that harsh sound. A bunch of people was standing at a little distance and they all were wearing the same type of black tracksuits. Some had notepads in their hands while some had whistles around their necks. Needless to say, they all looked super fit.
"Good morning everyone! I welcome you all here. Our camp incorporates many different aspects of fitness. We help you achieve results in the quickest time possible!" one of them said aloud.
A middle-aged woman stepped forward. Her short blonde hair was frizzy, pointing in every possible direction.
She smiled at us before proceeding to speak.
"Good morning, I'm Christine. Every year, we organize our camps to help everyone get fit. Here, you'll lose weight and gain confidence. It'll be so much fun," she said, "now, I request all of you to form a line. We're going to note down your height and weight because later, it helps you to realize how much you've changed. You sure will feel the difference."
My jaw dropped and my eyes widened in utter shock. Why me?
I didn't want them to note down my weight in front of so many people. Why couldn't they just begin with the exercises and spare us the torture? I wasn't comfortable at all because these sorts of situations tend to get embarrassing.
"Lizzie?" Olive said, shaking my arm.
"I don't wanna do this," I groaned.
"Oh, don't worry, I mean, there are fatter people here."
"That didn't help a bit," I muttered.
At last, we had to join the line. Nobody actually seemed enthusiastic about the camp. Many questions swirled around my head.
Is this boy here because his mom trapped him like my mom did? Does this girl too feel embarrassed about her weight being measured in front of strangers? Does anyone else want to scream at the top of their lungs?
I scratched my head.
They were also giving some T-shirts to wear and when I was close to my turn, my heart began pounding hard in my chest.
The sun was now shining brightly and the temperature was getting up.
"Step on the machine, please," Christine said.
"Uh, I can't," I said, biting my bottom lip.
She furrowed her brows. "Why not?"
"I-I have a phobia of weighing machines."
"I've heard better excuses, miss. Now, would you please step on it?"
Sighing, I stepped on the machine and looked straight, fixing my eyes at a particular tree.
"Okay, one-seventy pounds...Five feet and three inches..."
I closed my eyes because I knew people behind me had heard that as well. I had never felt so humiliated in my life.
After noting down my height and weight, Christine asked her helper to give me an XL size T-shirt. I took it from the man, without even looking at his face.
I walked over to Olive where she was standing with her own T-shirt.
Both of us unfolded our T-shirts at the same time. We outstretched our arms to get a proper look at them. It was white and in the middle, it had the cartoon of a girl in bikini, eating a carrot. What's with these people and carrots?
Olive and I exchanged awkward looks. We both stuck out our tongues at it, "Yuck!"
At that point, I was beyond frustrated. Although, the place was open and had a lot of fresh air, I felt suffocated. I shouldn't have given in. I didn't want to be there. But who was I kidding?
I was stuck between people of almost all shapes and sizes.
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