Lucy Wagner Gets In Shape (A Romantic Comedy) (3 page)

“They changed the fucking numbers!” Jenny is pissed, in that way only Jenny can get pissed, because they’ve changed the menus at Lucky Chan’s. “What’s B-4 called now? I don’t even know the name of it. Do you think if I ordered the old B-4, they’d know what I was talking about?” She seems in a panic over this, and I want to tell her to get a grip. But Jenny’s a bit on edge lately, mainly because of her upcoming comprehensive exams, and her rocky, on-again, off-again relationship with Dax. I think she needs something to reduce her stress level. And I think I’ve got just the plan.

“Oh my God--the answer is
yes,”
Will cries, dropping his chopsticks and untucking his shirt from his jeans. It’s halfway up his back before I can slap his arms down in horror.

“Can we just sue him for sexual harassment and be done with it?” Jenny is so not amused.

“Be serious for two minutes, Lambchop. I’m turning over a new, post-Paul leaf, and I need your help.” They both look at me expectantly. I really need to sell this, so I take a deep, fortifying breath.

Oh, I am so prepared for Jenny’s backlash. “No, Jennifer, I am not insane. I am proving to myself, and to Paul, that I am
not
a fat person in a skinny person’s body. That I am a woman of substance and conviction. That I am woman worthy of love, and I’m every bit as tough and brave as Langley whatever-the-hell-her-name-is.”

“That I have self-discipline. That I can set a goal and stick with it. That I’m not a helpless sot.” Wow, I’ve got a million of these.

“Luce…I’m not trying to be harsh here, but is this some ploy to try to get Paul back?” Jen’s voice is gentler now, and it’s got more than a little pity in it. Will is looking at the new menu, and for some reason his face looks almost…angry. Or hurt. Goodness, they are both taking this menu thing a bit too seriously.

“Listen, I’m not out to get Paul back. I mean, maybe the idea kind of started out that way, but now I just want to prove to myself that I can do something like this. Something that’s…physical, rather than cerebral, you know? Life’s about balance, and my balance is all out of whack right now.” This sounds so good—God, I’m on a roll! “And I was hoping to share it with my two best friends in this world. So sue me.”

Jenny meets my gaze head-on, mentally measuring my bullshit meter. My eyes shift to Will, and he’s staring at me intently. I absolutely can’t read him, and it makes me uncomfortable. On a typical day, I can read Will like the back of a cereal box.

“So, this is something that will make you feel better about yourself? It will make you happy?” I squirm under his unwavering eyes.

“Yes.
Yes
.
”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Then I’m in.”

“
Yessss!”
I hiss, pulling a victorious fist-pump in the air. “So, you’re in, too.” I say to Jenny, but my attention is already drawn back to the new menu. Where have they hidden the General Tso chicken?

“What do you mean? I have a mind of my own, you know.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do while Will and I are training? You’ll be bored in a day. Let’s just cut to the chase—you’re in.”

“C’mon, Jen,” Will prods. That’s the great thing about Will—once he’s committed to something, he is a fountain of enthusiasm. “It’ll be fun. Plus, you’ll have this hot new, killer bod…and, you can quit the gym!” That got her. It’s no secret that Jen loathes the gym, but her Mexican food habit makes it a necessity. She never misses an opportunity to remind me that
she
was not born with blessedly forgiving genes.

“Oh, fine,” she sneers, and I do a little clap and jump up to hug her, but she shrugs me off quickly.

“So when is this race?” Will asks. He’s got his chopsticks hanging out of his mouth like walrus tusks. He does this every week. But it always makes me laugh, because we are both huge dorks.

“In two months.” I’m still giggling, and Jen is looking at both of us like we’re the most annoying creatures on the planet. I make tusks out of my chopsticks, too, and finally she bursts out laughing.

Oh my God, this race is going to be so much fun.

Chapter Four

Memorial Park, 7:10 am.
Nope, that’s not a typo. We are at the park, at seven freaking o’clock. I’m already having second thoughts about this. It’s not like I’m lazy, but running has never really been my thing. I get so hot, and dirty, and it hurts my lungs, and then there’s the sweating…and the chafing, my God, the chafing…

Jenny’s late, so Will and I are under a huge pine tree, stretching out. Or, more precisely, I’m stretching out, and Will is kicking a pinecone around like it’s a hacky sac. I so need to take him shopping. He’s wearing some ancient University of Michigan T-shirt, grey shorts with the hem ripped out, and jogging shoes that are so old I can’t even tell what color they are anymore. I, on the other hand, am looking the part—my $325 trip to Academy Sports netted me three fancy running tanks (
with moisture-wick technology
), three pairs of running shorts, four pairs of leggings, and a pair of jogging shoes with all kinds of shock absorption and air pockets and fancy crap.

“Where’s Jenny?” I’m looking up the jogging trail, beginning to get annoyed. “If she’s not serious about this, we can always get another team member.”

“Oh, yeah? Who?” Will’s grinning at me. He knows my threats are empty. I shrug my shoulders. “Give her a break, she’s probably coming from Dax’s apartment, and that’s like a hundred miles away.” He’s right, of course. Why is it that Will is so good and patient, and I am such a bitch?

“Oh, no…oh, shit…” Will is looking up the jogging path as if he’s seen a ghost. I follow his gaze, and then give a little ‘eep!’ when I see Diana, Will’s ex-fiance. She’s jogging, towards us, wearing a pair of wireless headphones that wrap behind her perky blond ponytail. I never knew Diana very well—she and Will were engaged for about a year, I think. I met her once at a departmental party, but they broke up a few months after I started grad school. Unlike Jenny and I, who discuss every ugly twist and turn of our romantic relationships in excruciating detail, Will has never discussed Diana, or their relationship, or why it ended. All I know is that she hates his guts. She hates him so much, it makes me suspect that he cheated on her, but I just can’t imagine him doing something so horrible. Then again, he is a guy.

“I’m just going over there,” Will says quickly, kicking his pinecone as hard as he can towards the parking lot, then jogging after it. Coward. I continue to stretch, and as Diana jogs by, she gives me one of those looks, like she knows me, but she can’t remember how. I return her look with a tiny smile, then pretend to see something interesting over by the soccer fields, and her gaze follows mine, safely away from Will. He so owes me one.

When the coast is clear, Will returns, looking a little sheepish.

“Remind me again why she hates you so much?”

“Because I asked her to marry me, and then I
un
asked her to marry me. You’re a girl—doesn’t that generally piss your kind off?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s got to be more than that. I mean, she really
hates
you. And you are not a guy that engenders feelings of hate, not even in women you dump. Unless, you know…you did something hateful to her.”

“But you assumed, didn’t you? I’m a guy, I broke up with a girl, she’s furious with me, so I must have fucked around on her. Right?” Okay, so now I’m uncomfortable. Because that’s exactly what I thought.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I guess I’ve got infidelity on the brain…you know…”

Will let his pinecone roll under a nearby bench. “It’s okay, Luce. I wish there was some juicy, drama-filled story behind our breakup, but there’s not. I just—“ He pauses, and looks away from me for a second. “I just realized that I didn’t love her. I know I hurt her, but wouldn’t it have been worse to marry her?” When he looks back up, I feel a sudden wave of affection for him. We had only been friends a few months when he and Diana broke up, but I suddenly wish that I’d been there for him. The way he’s always there for me. And Jen, of course.

“When did you realize that you didn’t love her?” Will is suddenly fascinated with his shoelaces. Part of me wants to drop the subject, since he’s clearly uncomfortable, but the other part of me thinks it might do him good to talk about it. I realize I’ve been a horrible friend. What if he’s been hurting all this time, damaged by a failed relationship, unable to move on? It occurs to me that he’s never even dated anyone since he broke up with Diana. A few nights out here and there, but…nothing.

“Will?”

“I’m not sure. I just realized one day that I didn’t love her. And holy crap, there’s Jen’s car. Thank God.” He gives me a nervous smile and I smile back. Shyly. Which is so weird, because Will and I have never been shy or nervous around each other. Ever.

“Sorry, sorry. Who knew there were so many cars on the road at seven am?” Jen’s pulling her long, dark hair back into a huge ponytail as she walks towards us. “I haven’t been on the road this early in years.” The academic life is not one that starts at sunrise. It’s rare that any of us get to work before ten. But then again, it’s pretty common for us to still be there at midnight.

“It’s alright,” I say, my irritation from earlier having evaporated. “So, what do you think we should do today? I was thinking six or seven miles.” I pull my foot back to stretch, so that my heel digs into my butt. I think it makes me look like a serious runner.

“Six or seven miles?” Jen looks at me like I’m mental. Will is trying his best not to laugh.

“What?” Is that too much? Too little? What the hell do I know? The last time I ran regularly was in high school gym class. I was always having to do laps for talking.

“Let’s see how we’re feeling after two.” Jen says, and then she rolls her eyes at Will, and it pisses me off. I’ll show them. I used to beat my little brother all the time in the fifty-yard dash at field day. I’m not as feeble as they think.

***

I. Want. To. Die. My legs are screaming in pain. My tank is not wicking a single drop of moisture from my body. My brand-new shoes have given me blisters in at least six places. I feel trails of sweat beading uncomfortably between my breasts, down my back, down my
butt!
This is hell.

“Okay, that’s mile one,” Will says cheerfully, and now I hate him. I hate his long legs, and the way he keeps having to stop and run backwards so that Jen and I can catch up with him. I hate that he’s barely winded. I especially hate his teasing monologue, and I wonder to myself how I ever thought this asshole was the least bit funny.

“C’mon, Muffin, we’re halfway there,” he calls, his voice lilting with enthusiasm.

“Oh, have I got a fucking pet name for you,” I gasp menacingly.

“See, he’s not so funny out—“ Jen stops short when my toe catches the exposed root of an oak tree adjacent to the running path, and I fall flat on my face. I’m stunned, and the impact leaves me breathless.

“Oh my God, Luce, are you okay?” Jen’s voice is equal parts laughter and horror, and I’m not sure how to feel, until I look up and see Will running back, at full speed, towards me. He looks scared, almost panicked. Now I’m thinking I might freak out.

“Oh,
Lucy…
oh
shit,”
Jen cries. I move my hand tentatively to my face, which I now realize is covered in dirt and blood. Will’s on his knees beside me, and then so is Jen, and now people have stopped to point and stare, and I just want to die.

“C’mon, let’s get your face out of the dirt. Do you think you can sit up?” Will’s voice is as smooth as syrup, but his eyes are still wide with fright. I look away quickly, choosing to just listen for the time being.

“Can’t…breathe…” I wheeze pitifully. “Why…can’t I…breathe?”

“You just got the wind knocked out of you, hon.” Jen is rubbing my arm, and Will has gently lifted me to a quasi-sitting position, my shoulders and head tucked gently in the crook of his arm.

“Where are you hurt?” Will asks urgently, skimming my arms and legs with his fingertips. I look at him again, but I’m too stunned to even call him a perv.

“My nose…and my hand…” I lift my arm gingerly, and my eyes fill when I see my raw, bloody palm, full of dirt and gravel.

“I’ve got a bottle of water in my car. I’ll be right back.” Jen’s running away quickly, already pulling her car keys out of the back pocket of her running shorts, even though the parking lot is still a good quarter-mile away. Will reaches down and gently pushes my hair back from my forehead.