Authors: Jennifer Jamelli

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor

Checked (22 page)

Did you get it?

Reply.

Hold on, I’m getting there!

I add another smile before sending.

Okay…the other emails will have to wait until later. I click on his email. He’s sent me an electronic gift card to Amazon. He wants me to buy a magazine on my Kindle for my tub activity. So now I’m taking two electronic devices into the bathtub with me? That ought to be good.

He has included a list of suggested magazines. I recognize two of them as literary journals because I’ve read issues of both before. Under these titles, he’s written, “If you find it difficult to leave your zone of comfort.”

Next, he has listed two celebrity gossip-type magazines, just like the ones my mom subscribes to at home. Under these, he’s commented, “I hope you pick one of these. It’s easy to relax and escape your own life while reading about other people and their problems.”

Lastly, he has included the title of a gourmet cooking magazine, under which he has simply typed a smiley face.

I take a moment to marvel at the fact that he understands my real connection to cooking well enough to joke about it after only knowing me for a couple of weeks while Mom and Dad will no doubt buy me yet another set of hardcore pots and pans for Christmas this year.

BUZZ.

What did you pick?

Reply.

The celebrity nonsense :)

Send.

Buzz.

Good.

I get ready for my bath after downloading the magazine on my Kindle. Oh so carefully, I step into the bubbly water and place my phone and Kindle on the ledge of the bathtub. I read. And take turns in Words with Friends.

When I start to get overly wrinkly and begin to think about getting out, I do feel rather relaxed. This celebrity gossip really can be pleasantly mind-numbing. Maybe that is why Mom likes it so much.

I get out around 2:40 p.m. Jeez.

My phone buzzes yet again.

Almost time for your leaving preparations. Don’t forget to skip something! I’ll chat with you tonight.

Reply.

Sounds good. Thanks.

I get dressed, and thankfully, my purple and black color-blocked dress still seems to fit just fine.

3:00 p.m. I’m ready to begin my leaving preparations. I’m not quite sure how to omit one of my thirty-three checks. Then the numbering will be all out of whack, and something serious might happen as a result. To a family member. To me. To him.

This is ridiculous. Why take one thing out just to say I did and then end up messing up something major?

I could always omit three different checks, taking me down to thirty, but how would I even choose? What if I overlook something serious and my house burns down? Or floods—especially now that I found out that flooding isn’t covered under normal homeowner’s insurance.

Now it’s 3:10 p.m. My fresh coat of nail polish is already gone. As I finally allow myself to begin my checks, my stomach makes a loud, angry noise. This, accompanied by the painful sensation I’m experiencing, must mean that my stomach is eating itself.

Good. Maybe I’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.

Still focused on my rumbling stomach as I start my second round of thirty-three checks, I come up with a loophole for my predicament. I usually grab a cereal bar or snack before I go to work. I won’t be doing that today. That can count as my omission, can’t it? If he asks, I can truthfully say I left something out.

Pleased with myself, I finish my rounds of checking. And then I’m off to work.

THERE MUST BE A LOT of writing assignments floating around campus this week. Most of the computers are taken when I arrive at the writing center.

Brittany is here and that Luke kid is sitting right beside her tonight. They lean over to help each other or make comments or something every once in awhile. They look pretty comfortable. Maybe they are dating now. Love at first sight in the Pierce Writing Center.

Most of the other students keep to themselves, typing away intently. I get more tickets than usual, but I still have plenty of down time to get my own work done.

After typing a few pages of my paper on
The Scarlet Letter,
I decide to check my silenced phone. Just in case he’s written. Making sure no students are looking my way, I slip the phone out of my purse. It’s my turn in our game. I happily increase my lead to fifty-two points.

Ten minutes later, I reach for my purse to get a piece of gum. A few calories to settle my stomach a little. I slide out my phone and notice that he has played. He’s also sent a message.

I look around. Everyone seems to be working.

Count. Open message.

Aren’t you supposed to be working?

Count. Reply.

Aren’t you? :)

Seriously—doesn’t he have patients today? Where do they fit in with all of this texting and game playing?

He’s written back already. Look around. Open.

I am working. I’ve dedicated my day to spending some relaxation time with a VIP patient.

Wow.

I don’t know how to reply to that. I settle with a simple thank you. Seconds later, he sends another message—a colon and a parenthesis. A smile from the man who wouldn’t even look at me during most of our first appointment together.

Another ticket comes in. More proofreading to do. Reluctantly putting my phone back into my purse, I get back to work. The students in the lab keep me busy with a steady stream of tickets, and soon it’s time to go.

HIS NEXT MESSAGE COMES AROUND 8:00 p.m. I am already home and dressed in sweats.

Ready to chat?

I text back a yes and head to my computer. After logging in to Facebook with the password Mandy reminded me of last night, I also pull up the latest version of my paper.

HOURS LATER WHEN I TURN off my computer, I haven’t touched my paper. I complete my night routine (in its entirety) in a daze and am in bed at 1:30 a.m. with a printout of tonight’s chat session. Two chefs are on TV preparing some sort of Beef Wellington dish, but I don’t really hear them as I begin reading through our night’s discussion.

DABLAKE: Stop beating me in Words.

CALISTAROYCE: Stop playing sucky words, and maybe you’ll win.

DABLAKE: I’ll try…

DABLAKE: Ready to get started with our chat?

CALISTAROYCE: Yep.

DABLAKE: Okay, let’s start with our nacho exercise reflection.

Stupid doctor terms—reflection sounds a lot like sharing.

DABLAKE: Let’s talk about the odds of your worst fear actually coming true.

CALISTAROYCE: Okay…

DABLAKE: I assume your worst fear would be gaining a large amount of weight?

CALISTAROYCE: Well, gaining weight in general, yes.

DABLAKE: Okay. Can you think of some reasons why that isn’t likely to happen after one night of eating nachos?

CALISTAROYCE: Because it can’t. I won’t let it.

DABLAKE: Well, right. I’m sure you would do specific things to prevent it from happening. Like, I’m sure you went back to your structured eating routine today, right?

CALISTAROYCE: I definitely made sensible eating choices today.

DABLAKE: So you know that you have the willpower to go back to your eating plan after a day of splurging, right?

CALISTAROYCE: I guess so.

DABLAKE: So maybe it’s okay to splurge once in awhile.

CALISTAROYCE: I don’t know…maybe.

DABLAKE: Okay, let’s talk about your worst case scenario, what you would do if your worst fear came true.

DABLAKE: What would you do if you did gain some weight?

CALISTAROYCE: I can’t…I won’t.

DABLAKE: But you worry about it nonetheless, so what would you do? Buy some new clothes, maybe?

CALISTAROYCE: No. It won’t happen.

CALISTAROYCE: I can’t think about that right now.

CALISTAROYCE: Sorry.

DABLAKE: It’s okay. We can move on for now.

CALISTAROYCE: Thanks.

DABLAKE: Now…Tony. Do you want to start where we left off?

CALISTAROYCE: I guess so.

DABLAKE: Let’s move beyond the night with the nachos—what happened next?

CALISTAROYCE: Oh…well, I started the 800 calorie thing, like I said last night.

DABLAKE: Did Tony know about that?

CALISTAROYCE: No. I didn’t talk to him about any of it. I didn’t eat in front of him after that either.

DABLAKE: How long did you keep that up?

CALISTAROYCE: The 800 calories? Until that trip to the health center.

DABLAKE: Why did you go to the health center that day?

CALISTAROYCE: I was scared.

CALISTAROYCE: I hadn’t had my period in a couple of months.

I cannot believe I wrote that. Look at me getting all brave when protected by a computer screen.

CALISTAROYCE: I thought that I had completely screwed up my body. Irrevocably. I figured I would never go back to normal, never be able to have children…

CALISTAROYCE: It turned out that I stopped having a period because I had stopped eating all foods that contained any fat whatsoever. Apparently, the amount of fat you consume somehow has something to do with your period…or something.