Read Online The Next Thing on My List by Jill Smolinski - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jill Smolinski
Ads: Link
Marissa for being fat.
And she was, too. Fat, that is. Poor kid. Her yearbooks showed the progression as she started out chubby in junior high and got heavier and heavier over the years. As if that weren’ t tough enough, there were photos of her in the marching band, in the glee club, and as a member of the chess team. Why didn’ t she just have a ‘ Kick Me’ sign sewn permanently to her back?
Marissa had a pretty smile in her senior picture, though, and it seemed genuine. Maybe her thought bubble would read, Thank God I’ m almost out of here! Or-who knows?-maybe she enjoyed high school. After all, when I was in school, I thought I had a good time. It was only after I graduated and got out into the world that I realized how miserable I’ d actually been.
One thing was certain: I was going to have to do some serious legwork to find Buddy Fitch. I’ d need to know who he was and what he did before I could determine what sort of payback he had coming.
And I’ d better get a move on. A month had already ticked by, and I’ d completed only four of the tasks. (I’ d have claimed five, but when I mentioned to Brie about how I pitched my idea to Lizbeth at the staff meeting, she’ d exclaimed, ‘ You call that pitching?’ and I didn’ t dare cross it off.)
After setting aside the last yearbook, I pulled the list from my purse.
20 Things to Do by My 25th Birthday
1. Lose 100 pounds
2. Kiss a stranger
3. Change someone’ s life
4. Wear sexy shoes
5. Run a 5K
6. Dare to go braless
7. Make Buddy Fitch pay
8. Be the hottest girl at Oasis
9. Get on TV
10. Ride in a helicopter
11. Pitch an idea at work
12. Try boogie boarding
13. Eat ice cream in public
14. Go on a blind date
15. Take Mom and Grandma to see Wayne Newton
16. Get a massage
17. Throw away my bathroom scale
18. Watch a sunrise
19. Show my brother how grateful I am for him
20. Make a big donation to charity
I’ d made a start, I knew, but there was so much left to do. If I was going to succeed, I needed to hunker down and stay on track. Next Tuesday I’ d handle #6, Dare to go braless. Most of the staff would be off at a rideshare fair. I’ d be able to go the whole day without encountering many people.
Maybe that was the easy way out, but I was willing to take any break I could get.
AS I DRESSED for work Tuesday morning, I couldn’ t help but think how it wasn’ t fair. After all, Marissa was, to put it delicately& petite. As in flat-chested. A-cup at best, I’ d reckon. Not that I’ d spent a lot of time staring at her chest, but I have a distinct memory of her being quite unendowed. Therefore, the ceremonial relinquishing of her bra would have been a feeling akin to the tossing of her scale: freeing.
For me, it was bordering on obscene.
It’ s not that I’ m huge-a C-cup usually, although depending on the bra occasionally a D. By Los Angeles standards, that’ s nothing. Problem is, unlike many of my contemporaries here in La-la-land, mine are real. Which is to say, they move. They bounce, they boing, they have minds of their own.
In an attempt to contain the potential damage, I searched my closet for my most conservative apparel and settled on a gray blouse over black slacks. Checking myself out in the mirror, I jumped up and down.
Good grief, I could put an eye out.
I took off the blouse, tugged on a black stretchy pullover, and then buttoned the blouse over the top of that. I jumped up and down again.
Better.
The office, as I’ d anticipated, was nearly empty when I got there. I spent the morning catching up on months of filing and was about to head to the break room to get the salad I’ d brought for lunch when my phone rang. It was Rose Morales from the Big Sister program.
‘ I have wonderful news,’ she gushed. ‘ We don’ t often have a match so quickly, but I’ ve found the perfect girl for you. I remember you said that you were eager to get started.’
‘ I am!’
‘ Her name is
And she was, too. Fat, that is. Poor kid. Her yearbooks showed the progression as she started out chubby in junior high and got heavier and heavier over the years. As if that weren’ t tough enough, there were photos of her in the marching band, in the glee club, and as a member of the chess team. Why didn’ t she just have a ‘ Kick Me’ sign sewn permanently to her back?
Marissa had a pretty smile in her senior picture, though, and it seemed genuine. Maybe her thought bubble would read, Thank God I’ m almost out of here! Or-who knows?-maybe she enjoyed high school. After all, when I was in school, I thought I had a good time. It was only after I graduated and got out into the world that I realized how miserable I’ d actually been.
One thing was certain: I was going to have to do some serious legwork to find Buddy Fitch. I’ d need to know who he was and what he did before I could determine what sort of payback he had coming.
And I’ d better get a move on. A month had already ticked by, and I’ d completed only four of the tasks. (I’ d have claimed five, but when I mentioned to Brie about how I pitched my idea to Lizbeth at the staff meeting, she’ d exclaimed, ‘ You call that pitching?’ and I didn’ t dare cross it off.)
After setting aside the last yearbook, I pulled the list from my purse.
20 Things to Do by My 25th Birthday
1. Lose 100 pounds
2. Kiss a stranger
3. Change someone’ s life
4. Wear sexy shoes
5. Run a 5K
6. Dare to go braless
7. Make Buddy Fitch pay
8. Be the hottest girl at Oasis
9. Get on TV
10. Ride in a helicopter
11. Pitch an idea at work
12. Try boogie boarding
13. Eat ice cream in public
14. Go on a blind date
15. Take Mom and Grandma to see Wayne Newton
16. Get a massage
17. Throw away my bathroom scale
18. Watch a sunrise
19. Show my brother how grateful I am for him
20. Make a big donation to charity
I’ d made a start, I knew, but there was so much left to do. If I was going to succeed, I needed to hunker down and stay on track. Next Tuesday I’ d handle #6, Dare to go braless. Most of the staff would be off at a rideshare fair. I’ d be able to go the whole day without encountering many people.
Maybe that was the easy way out, but I was willing to take any break I could get.
AS I DRESSED for work Tuesday morning, I couldn’ t help but think how it wasn’ t fair. After all, Marissa was, to put it delicately& petite. As in flat-chested. A-cup at best, I’ d reckon. Not that I’ d spent a lot of time staring at her chest, but I have a distinct memory of her being quite unendowed. Therefore, the ceremonial relinquishing of her bra would have been a feeling akin to the tossing of her scale: freeing.
For me, it was bordering on obscene.
It’ s not that I’ m huge-a C-cup usually, although depending on the bra occasionally a D. By Los Angeles standards, that’ s nothing. Problem is, unlike many of my contemporaries here in La-la-land, mine are real. Which is to say, they move. They bounce, they boing, they have minds of their own.
In an attempt to contain the potential damage, I searched my closet for my most conservative apparel and settled on a gray blouse over black slacks. Checking myself out in the mirror, I jumped up and down.
Good grief, I could put an eye out.
I took off the blouse, tugged on a black stretchy pullover, and then buttoned the blouse over the top of that. I jumped up and down again.
Better.
The office, as I’ d anticipated, was nearly empty when I got there. I spent the morning catching up on months of filing and was about to head to the break room to get the salad I’ d brought for lunch when my phone rang. It was Rose Morales from the Big Sister program.
‘ I have wonderful news,’ she gushed. ‘ We don’ t often have a match so quickly, but I’ ve found the perfect girl for you. I remember you said that you were eager to get started.’
‘ I am!’
‘ Her name is
Similar Books
