That's It

"And don't forget, your written finals are next weekend." Coach reminded us as he ended class, standing up from his seat and stretching before turning off the television and started rewinding the tape in the VCR. I swear, it was one of the worst videos I'd ever seen.

"That movie was terrible." David mumbled to me as we gathered our books. I looked up from my backpack at him and he smiled tentatively. Poor guy probably thought I'd bite his head off again.

"Tell me about it." I returned his smile, zipped up my bag, and threw it over my shoulder. "I don't think I'll be able to eat lunch this afternoon after that."

"Yeah," he agreed, following me out of the room. "All those horrible accident scenes."

"Leave it to Coach to try scaring us away from drinking and driving." I laughed over my shoulder.

"Are you all ready for the final?" David asked, stepping quickly to walk next to me. Our heels clicked on the hard tiles of the State Department building as we neared the exit doors.

"Not really." I admitted. I'd studied even less for this class than I had for my 'real' ones and that we all know was next to none. Not that I wanted to be a slacker, I just didn't seem to have time for anything anymore, running from one thing to the next. It was also getting more than a little annoying.

"Do.. you want to study together next Friday night?" He asked me shyly. I glanced at him, a frown creasing my forehead.

"Umm, sure."

"Cool. I'll call you before then."

".. Okaaay." I replied slowly. I seriously did not understand this kid. I wondered what his motives really were, other than studying for our test. After all, I'd come to expect people always had ulterior motives lately. Call it extreme paranoia. But I didn't have much time to think about it, for I stopped in my tracks when I saw Dad sitting in the driver's seat of his Chevy, the old thing rumbling in front of the sidewalk we stood on.

"Hmm.. wonder what he's doing here." I mumbled.

"See you later, Lindsey." David waved to me, walking in a different direction. I returned the wave but continued to eye my father.

"Hi.." I said cautiously, after opening the passengers' side door. "What are you doing here?"

"Get in," he replied gruffly. As I scooted my butt onto the seat and shut the door behind me, Dad immediately peeled out into the parking lot. I braced my hand on the dashboard to steady myself, then settled back and fastened my seat belt. Something gave me the feeling I would need to be wearing it.

"I thought Heidi was picking me up." I hinted at Dad. "Not that I'm not happy to see you."

"I told her to stay home."

"Oh.. ok." Whatever. Noticing we weren't heading in the direction of our house, my curiosity levels rose and I posed another question:

"Where are we going?"

"Dr. Coleman's office."

"The doctor's office?" I hadn't visited him since I was eight and had sprained my wrist playing Frisbee with Zac.

"Yes, I made you an appointment for right after your class." Dad offered me a little explanation. However, it wasn't enough.

"Why?"

This is incredibly weird. Even for Dad.

"To get you tested for caffeine in your system." My jaw dropped open.

"Mmm.." Still adorned in her pajamas, JoAnn finally emerged from my bedroom. After taking her time down the steps, she sauntered into the living room, looking for signs of any Williams.

This family gets up way too damn early. She thought, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and walking into the kitchen. At least she found my mother at the table, cutting coupons out of the newspaper.

"Morning," she croaked, taking a seat across from my mom. Mom sent her an amused smile.

"Afternoon." She corrected, pointing to the clock on the stove. Glancing over at it, JoAnn saw that it was now after two p.m.

"We were wondering when you'd get up."

"Well, the party ran pretty late last night." JoAnn admitted.

Well, it did for one of us.

"Did it?" Mom looked up at her with a curious look on her face. "Lindsey came back around nine. I found her fast asleep on the living room couch."

"Well," she thought quickly. "It was that great of a party, we danced our butts off."

"That's funny." Mom smiled. "Lindsey never was much of a fan of parties. I'm glad you got her out of the house for one night, at least."

"From how hard it was for me to get ahold of her, I'd assume Lindsey wasn't around here much." JoAnn frowned slightly.

Someone's got a misconception here.

"She's in and out." Was all Mom replied.

"Got'cha." The two of them fell into silence, so she reached across the table and grabbed the comics section of the paper.

"JoAnn.." Mom looked up at her again a few seconds later. "You're still close with Lindsey, right?"

"As close as a few hundred miles can be, I guess." She shrugged. "Why?"

"Did she ever mention anything about caffeine pills to you?"

"What?" This is news. JoAnn's eyes widened.

"Or what about Zac? Did he ever take them?"

"Never." She replied confidently, before adding, "To both questions."

"Hmm.." Frowning, Mom went back to her coupons without another word.

"Where is Lindsey?" JoAnn broke the silence this time.

"Should be getting done with her doctor's appointment soon. She also had Driver's Ed training this morning, until noon."

"Oh, ok.." Pretending to be absorbed in the latest Peanuts strip, JoAnn's real focus was swarming around the idea of caffeine pills. Remembering yesterday, how her stomach had twisted after opening the bathroom door, seeing her outfit unexpectedly hang loosely over my body, she wondered where the Lindsey she knew and loved had gone.

And caffeine pills? That's too wild.

"Step up, Lindsey." A nurse instructed me, pointing to a scale along the wall in front of us.

"Do I have to?" I asked.

"Yes." She looked up from her clipboard and gave me a tight-lipped smile. "You haven't been weighed since last October and we need to keep your charts updated."

"Do I have to take off my shoes?" Anything to delay the inevitable.

"No, you can leave them on if you want." She replied.

"Ok," I obliged, sucking in my breathe and stepping onto the rubber stand of the scale. I was beginning to really hate these devices, despite our close relationship recently. Squeezing my eyes shut, I realized I suddenly didn't want to know how much I weighed anymore.

Besides, I'll just be able to check my weight in the morning, I rationalized to myself. Weighing myself twice a day, in the morning when I got up and at night before I went to sleep, had also become a daily routine.

"My goodness." The nurse dropped her pen. I opened my eyes when I heard it hit the floor with a click.

"What?" I asked as she stooped to pick it up. As if I didn't anything else to worry about my health, particularly my weight.

"Nothing, other than the fact you are.." She flipped a page back on her clipboard. "Twenty-six pounds lighter than you were last time."

"Oh," was all I replied. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's wonderful." She assured me with a huge smile on her face.

If you say so.

"I don't believe this," I muttered, chewing nervously on my lower lip.

Now I remember why I don't come here.. I hate the doctor's office, I thought, crossing my arms over my chest and shivering slightly in the tiny room I'd been waiting in for the last fifteen minutes. Looking down at the bland cream-colored hospital gown that folded over my body, I wondered how light of a breeze it would take to rip it: the darn thing had the consistency of tissue paper. I was almost surprised I couldn't see my underwear and bra through it.

Like I'd take them off even if you couldn't see them, I realized, swinging my feet back and forth for amusement. At least I'm not completely naked.

The car ride was extremely silent after the bombshell Dad had dropped on me. Absolutely fuming on the inside, I'd also kept my mouth firmly shut while we'd waited in the main lobby. It's funny how much of a knack I'd developed recently for completely concealing my anger and frustration - the other people in the lobby saw nothing more than a girl sitting and silently thumbing through an old Fitness magazine.

Maybe they wondered what a fat girl like me would be doing reading a health magazine, but at least they couldn't tell I was pissed. That was something to salvage.

"Ahh, Lindsey." The door opened and Dr. Coleman entered, smiling pleasantly at me. "How are you this afternoon?"

"Been better." I admitted with a scowl. Ok, so I had a few things to still work on penting up that anger.

"I know. I talked to your father earlier.." He gave me a sympathetic look. "Something about testing for caffeine?"

"Dad thinks I'm taking caffeine pills." I explained. "But I'm not."

"I see." He set the clipboard he was carrying on a nearby table and walked toward me, reaching out and cupping his hands under my chin and lifting up my face so he could examine my eyes. A few seconds later, he reached into his coat and pulled out a tiny flashlight, shining it into each of my pupils.

"Keep your eyes open and look left." He instructed. I obliged, my eyes watering from continuously holding them open.

"Good, now right." I shifted my eyes again, feeling a tiny sting as I fought the urge to blink.

"Well," he said, snapping off his light. "You're eyes are a little yellow, but that's from not drinking enough water. There aren't any visible signs of caffeine intake."

"Take this to the lab down the hall." He scribbled rigidly onto my records, ripping off the bottom of the top page and handing it over to me. "If you said you didn't take caffeine pills, we can prove it with a few simple tests."

"Great," I mumbled.

As much as I like proving myself, I really don't. Like I had much choice right now though.

"That should be it." Dr. Coleman's eyes quickly scanned my charts before they rested on the upper left corner.

"Ok, thanks-" I started to stand up.

"Wait a moment." He frowned at my charts, set them back down on the table, and turned to me, his arms crossed over his chest. Was I ever surprised at what he said next:

"Have you ever considered seeing a dietician?"

"A what?" I stared at him blankly. Anything with the word 'diet' in it can't be a good thing.

"A specialist to discuss your lowering your weight." He explained.

"Umm.. I wasn't planning on it." I slowly sat back down on the examination table, my eyes glued to Dr. Coleman's face the entire time. This was the first time he'd ever brought up my weight as a health issue before.

"Well, looking at your charts, you're a few pounds over, especially for your small height and medium bone structure."

"But I've really been trying," I started explaining. "I've lost some weight already."

"I noticed the large drop in weight from your last visit." He added. "I just want to make sure that you're not on any type of fad diet."

"No, not that I can think of. My mom works at Weight Watchers and she's been helping me eat healthier and get more exercise."

To put it one way.

"Good." He nodded with approval. "You're headed in the right direction, but you still have a ways to go. The receptionist at the lab can give you some pamphlets on eating correctly."

".. All right. Thanks for the concern." What else could I say? Leave me the hell alone would work, but that's not exactly nice.

"You're the one who needs to be concerned about this. Being overweight can pose serious threats to your health: increasing your risk of contracting diabetes, hormonal imbalances, and heart problems. Just try to keep that in mind."

"I will." I cast a forlorn look at Dr. Coleman before he exited. The door clicking behind him echoed loudly in my ears, the sound piercing its way to my brain. Suddenly, the metal table I was sitting on felt incredibly cold against my bare thighs and I glanced down at them in disgust. As my eyes ran over every bulge, every fold in the muscle and skin, memories of select conversations randomly filtered into my mind:

"By the looks of your fat ass Lindsey, one would never know weight was something you cared about." Samantha, one who was always so generous about her comments.

".. look at me, then look at you." Snake-queen again.

"Who knows? Maybe hockey could help get you in better shape." Zac's subtlety was never his strong point.

".. the key to a healthy diet is not only to get variety in foods, but endure a variety of habits." Then there was Mom..

"The best thing schedule for your age bracket is to do rigorous exercise in the afternoon, stop eating before eight p.m., and do light exercises afterwards. It will increase your metabolism along with your muscle mass." Mom again.

"You can't be tired now, Lindsey." Once more.. Mom.

"No pain, no gain." Thank you Mom.

"You look tired." Zac.

"You're kidding yourself." Hadn't taken very long before the comments started coming from my mouth.

".. I don't want to cut you for such a trivial issue." Don't get me started on hockey..

".. don't get discouraged if you don't see the results you want right away."

"I haven't seen you eat all day." Not like it's any of your business, Phil.

"Your father and I are very proud of your change in behavior recently."

"This is taking too much brain power."

"Did you actually think Zac would want to talk to fat, stupid, ugly slob like yourself?"

"You're the one who needs to be concerned about this."

"I can't take much more of this."

Burying my face in my hands and massaging didn't clear the thoughts away, so I pushed my hands up past my forehead, where I wrenched locks of hair between my fingers in anguish. As hot, embarrassed tears splashed onto my face, I moaned softly, squeezing my eyes tightly shut.

"I just don't believe this.." The sentence came from my mouth in a hollow whisper. I simply didn't have the strength for anything else now.

My best friend, my sister, my parents, my coach, my teammates, even my enemies are all telling me the same thing, I thought. And now my doctor too.

"I don't fucking believe this!" The table vibrated slightly underneath me as I released my hair and pounded my fists onto its surface in frustration.

In that doctor's office, on that Saturday afternoon, instead of enjoying the cool summer breezes outside in childish delight like I had last year, I now made a solemn vow to myself.

This is my life, not anyone else's. I'm not sure how on earth it spun out of control, but I sure as hell am not going to sit back and let it run itself anymore.

Everything seemed to involve around eating.

It's just a way to stay alive, why does it have to be such a big deal? Eat this, don't touch that, there's too many calories, it's not on your food list, you'll get even fatter than you already are.. It almost be better to just not eat at all.

"Too bad that's illogical." I snorted outloud. "It would only solve the surface issues."

But the surface is the issue. God, it hurt to even think that. I'd come to the realization that my options were now in an extremely short supply. And certainly not by choice, either. But then again, not much seemed to be by choice anymore. Not in my life. Never.