Mates, Dates and Chocolate Cheats

by Cathy Hopkins

  Gabriel tried not to laugh as he knelt on his mat, lay back, went smoothly into the position and somehow managed to look handsome even when upside down.

  For the rest of the class, I couldn’t concentrate. I was so aware of the angles that Gabriel was seeing me from as we went through the postures: the crab, the cat, the dog, the snake and so on. It was awful. In every position, my tummy was hanging out or he was face to face with my backside. Not a great way to make a good impression, I thought. He, on the other hand, seemed to have mastered all the positions and in each one, looked graceful and serene. Rats’ droppings, I thought, I’d hoped I’d found a class that I wanted to do as well as the Egyptian dance but I’m not going to be able to come here every Saturday and look a fool in front of him.

  When the class was over, I was about to scarper but he caught up with me and asked if I fancied a juice in the bar at the front of the gym. I agreed because I wanted his last impression of me to be the right way up, not on the floor doing the twisted snake or demented cat or whatever the positions were called.

  ‘Been a member long?’ he asked as we collected our carrot and ginger drinks from the counter.

  ‘Just joined,’ I said. ‘You?’

  ‘Since last September,’ he said. ‘I come most Saturdays when there’s nothing on in the TV studio.’

  Poo, I thought. That’s yoga out then. It was one thing doing the lion (tongue out as far as you can stick it) when there were no boys around, another thing if the boy you fancied was right next to you. At least he didn’t come to Egyptian dancing.

  We chatted for about half an hour and, as before, got on really well. He was into all sorts of things that I am, like aromatherapy, crystals and astrology. He’d just moved out of his parents’ house into lodgings and was really enthusiastic about doing up his room and living independently for the first time. It was nice to talk to a boy about stuff like that because all the ones I know aren’t remotely interested in decor or paint colours.

  ‘So what are you up to over the weekend?’ he asked as we got up to go our separate ways.

  ‘Oh, see my mates. Homework. Maybe do another class. You?’

  ‘Working on my room.’ He reached into his gym bag and produced a piece of paper on which he scribbled an address.

  ‘Here. That’s where I live now. If you’ve got a moment, pop over. You can tell me what you think of my colour scheme. It’s a bit of a mess still but almost ready for visitors.’

  Result, I thought. Maybe the sight of my bum hanging in the air when I did the snarling caterpillar didn’t put him off after all.

  ‘I’d love to,’ I said. ‘And I could bring my feng shui book if you’re interested.’

  ‘Oh definitely,’ he said as we went out to the pavement from where he unchained a bike from a lamppost. ‘OK then, see you around and come visit.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Definitely, I thought as he gave me a wave, got on his bike and rode away.

  Halfway down the road, he stopped then circled back. I tried to look cool and pretended that I hadn’t actually been staring at him on his bike. He stopped at the kerb next to me.

  ‘And hey, if your mates have time, bring them too. The more the merrier. Now I have my own place I want it to be an open house. When I lived at home with my parents, visitors were never welcome. My dad is an unsociable old codger. I really, really want my new place to be different, with people dropping in all the time.’

  And off he rode again. I felt confused. Bring my mates? Why? Wouldn’t he want to be alone with me? Did he fancy me or not? What was going on?

  After the gym, I went over to TJ’s to meet the girls. TJ’s house was only a short walk from the gym but by the time I got there, I felt exhausted and faint with hunger having only had a vanilla shake and carrot juice so far that day. Lucy, TJ and Nesta were in the kitchen with croissants and hot chocolates, talking about going to the mall or Camden as TJ wanted a break because she’d been in all morning working on the school magazine.

  ‘And Lucy needs cheering up,’ said Nesta.

  ‘Why? What’s happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Tony’s got his interview for Oxford,’ said Nesta. ‘The letter came this morning. If they make him an offer, he’d be mad not to go.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve been ready for it all along. That’s why I’ve been trying to cool it with him. Well, that and the wandering hands . . .’

  ‘Has he started with that again?’ asked Nesta.

  Lucy shook her head. ‘No. He’s been very well behaved but you know it was the reason we broke up before Italy.’

  ‘Oh let’s go out and meet loads of new boys,’ said Nesta. ‘Distractions. New love interests.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said TJ. ‘First one to get a date with a new boy wins.’

  Although it sounded like a fun afternoon was planned, I had no energy. I wanted to crawl up to the nearest bedroom, lie on a bed and go to sleep.

  ‘You guys go,’ I said. ‘I’ll just go home and vegetate, that is if I can get there. I can hardly walk after all the classes I’ve done this week.’

  ‘You’ve been overdoing it,’ said TJ. ‘Three classes a week is enough to be fit. How many have you done?’

  ‘One every day but only because I wanted to find out which ones I want to do,’ I said, then went on to fill them in on seeing Gabriel again at yoga.

  ‘He’s probably just playing it cool,’ said Lucy. ‘Wants to get to know you better before he makes his move.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘But maybe the sight of my bum in the air put him off.’

  Nesta made a disapproving face. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Izzie, you’ve got a great bum. All you seem to go on about these days is how awful you look or what diet you’re on. And at school, you hide in the library and then take off afterwards to the gym. We’ve hardly seen you this week.’

  ‘We hung out at the flamenco class,’ I objected, ‘and Lucy, you came with me to salsa.’

  ‘Not the same,’ said Lucy. ‘We used to spend time having a laugh in the lunch break then after school. It’s like you’ve got so serious about all this losing weight lark. Where’s the old fun Izzie?’

  ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Just a bit knackerooed at the moment. And I am still fun. Remember last weekend? Discovering the X factor. That was fun.’

  ‘I agree with TJ,’ said Nesta. ‘I think you’re overdoing the classes. You need to chill out a bit, spend proper time with mates and eat something besides those stupid shakes.’

  I looked at them sitting there. A familiar scene with mugs of steaming chocolate, croissants in hands, jam pots open, crumbs all over the table. It wasn’t fair that I had to deny myself once again when they could eat and enjoy it. Food was such a bonding thing at all times of the year: cakes on birthdays, pizza and a DVD on rainy nights, toast and peanut butter when you’re starving and back from school, mince pies at Christmas, Sunday lunches for catching up with family, muffins at the mall with mates. I was beginning to feel left out and even though it was only two weeks since I’d been trying to lose weight, it felt like I’d been denying myself for ever.

  TJ’s mum, Dr Watts, came in from the utility room where she’d been putting the washing on.

  ‘What’s all this about classes?’ she asked. ‘And shakes?’

  ‘Izzie,’ said TJ. ‘She’s joined the gym to lose weight.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Dr Watts. ‘Cardiovascular exercise. That’s what’s best for losing weight. Anything that gets the heart pumping.’

  ‘Just the sight of the cute instructors there does that for me,’ said Nesta. ‘Does that count?’

  Dr Watts laughed. ‘Not exactly. But what’s all this about you wanting to lose weight, Izzie?’

  Here we go, I thought. Mention that you want to lose weight to an adult and they all feel the need to give a lecture.

  Dr Watts sat down at the table and looked at me with concern. ‘Does your mum know that you’re trying to lose weig
ht?’

  ‘Yeah. Course.’

  ‘And how are you going about it?’ she asked. ‘What’s this about shakes?’

  I felt like I was a criminal being cross-examined. ‘Er . . .’

  ‘First she spent a week starving herself,’ Lucy burst out. ‘And now she’s drinking only slim shakes and her stomach rumbles like mad in school and . . . well, we’re worried about her.’

  Oh thanks a lot, I thought. Why not tell her all my secrets while you’re at it?

  Dr Watts’s concerned look grew. ‘Oh, Izzie,’ she said. ‘That’s not the way to go about it. On those diets, yes, some weight appears to come off quickly but a lot of it is water and the moment you start eating properly again, it all piles on again. If you deprive your body of proper food, it goes onto alert, thinking that you’re starving and then burns what food you are eating slowly to compensate. Then the moment you start eating properly again, the weight goes straight back on because your system is still trying to protect you by burning up food slowly. And as for those slim shakes, you may as well eat a good nutritious meal as it would probably contain the same calories. The only way to lose weight and keep it off is to do it slowly, aim for a loss of a pound or two a week.’

  ‘That’s what Mum said,’ I groaned, ‘but that will take forever.’

  ‘Well, the weight doesn’t go on overnight and it’s not going to come off overnight, no matter what mad fad diet you do.’

  Yeah, yeah, I thought, I’ve heard it all before.

  ‘A good eating plan and exercise, that’s the way to do it for a permanent weight loss,’ continued Dr Watts.

  ‘But it’s so hard . . .’

  ‘It needn’t be,’ said Dr Watts. ‘I always advise the people who come to me wanting to lose weight to join a club. That way, you learn about healthy eating and you have the support of a group. If you’re really serious about it and your mum agrees, I could give you a note – under-sixteens need one to join a slimming club in this country.’

  She got up, rooted around in a drawer and pulled out a leaflet. ‘Here you are. Weight Winners. There’s a class on Monday evening and it’s not far from you, just at the top of East Finchley High Road.’

  I pulled a face. I felt tired. Tired of the shakes. Tired of feeling tired. Tired of the windy pops. Tired of feeling left out of the good time munchie moments.

  ‘Really’ continued Dr Watts, ‘you don’t have to starve to lose weight. It’s just a question of eating the right foods and the weight will come right off in no time. And with the right plan, you can even have a little treat every now and again.’

  I nodded. I was beginning to realise that she was right. Maybe I should try a more sensible approach. There was no way I could do another week on the slim shakes. I felt weird and lightheaded and the idea of a decent meal was very tempting. ‘OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll give it a go.’

  ‘Hurrah!’ said Lucy. ‘Because we want Izzie back, no matter what shape or size she is.’

  Later that night, I sat down to a plate of pasta with Mum and Angus and enjoyed every minute of it. Mum was all for me joining the club when she heard that Dr Watts had given it the OK.

  ‘As long as you do it sensibly,’ she said as she watched me bolt down my food. ‘You have to have balance.’

  I picked up two cookies from the plate on the table and held one each hand.

  ‘There you go. A balanced diet. A cookie in either hand.’

  Angus laughed but Mum pursed her lips. ‘Honestly, Izzie. I despair sometimes. It’s always all or nothing with you. One minute you’re eating hardly anything, the next, you eat everything that’s in front of you. Why can’t you find a happy medium?’

  ‘I will. I will, at the club. Dr Watts said they teach a healthy eating plan there.’

  ‘Well, I hope so,’ said Mum. ‘You’ve been looking peaky this week and I’ve been worried about you.’

  ‘No need,’ I said. ‘Mad fad diets are not for me, believe me.’

  After supper, I felt so much better just for having eaten. And I had a day and a half before I joined the club. A day and a half to eat all the things I would never be able to eat again, ever, for all eternity. Better make the most of it, I thought as I snuck into the kitchen later to find Mum’s treat tin.

  ‘Izzie, what are you doing?’ she asked when she caught me with a fudge bar in my hand.

  ‘New diet,’ I said with a weak grin. ‘I’ve tried the Atkins diet, this is the Fatkins diet.’

  Mum looked up to heaven. ‘You’re mad.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ I grinned back at her. ‘I’ll start properly on Monday. Promise.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Heard that one before,’ said Mum as she went back in to watch telly.

  A balanced diet: a cookie in each hand.

  Chapter 13

  Starstruck

  ‘Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!’

  I wanted to kick something. Or someone. It was Monday morning and I’d just weighed myself. My weight was exactly the same as last Monday. Exactly. Urghhhhhhhhh. I felt soooo frustrated. After all that I’d been through! The wind, the stomach gurgles, the feeling like I was going to pass out. And for what? For this! I wanted to chuck the scales right out of the window. Dr Watts was blooming right about slim shakes. You lose some weight. Yahey. You eat again and it all goes straight back on. Bummer. Still, I guess the ‘last ever in the world for all eternity’ cookies on Saturday evening, slice of pizza at Ben’s during band practice on Sunday, portion of chips on the way back from my guitar lesson with Lucy’s dad and the final final final bowl of ice cream last night after I’d dropped round to Gabriel’s with Lucy (he wasn’t in) hadn’t exactly helped. But it was no more than the others had. They just never seemed to gain an ounce. Pfff.

  Breathe, I told myself, calm down. It’s OK. There is hope.

  New week. New start. I was going to join the Weight Winner’s club tonight and learn how to drop a few pounds sensibly. I was well ready for it. I’d had enough of my own mad roller coaster ways of doing it.

  After school, I went and had a swim at the gym, then made my way up the high street to find the hall where the meeting was being held.

  Oh no, I thought when I got close and finished off my ‘last ever in the whole of eternity and beyond and even after that’ fudge bar. A load of boys I knew were sitting on a wall opposite the hall. Biff from the band was there, plus a few of his mates from Lal’s school. They were laughing and smoking fags and messing about. No way could I go past them and into the slimming club. It would be all around North London in no time.

  I felt so disappointed. I’d been pinning my hopes on this. I quickly called Nesta on my mobile and explained my dilemma.

  ‘I’ll be right there,’ she said. ‘Meet you down by the pharmacy in ten minutes and I’ll distract them for you while you sneak in. I’ve been doing my history homework and am bored out of my mind so I need something to do.’

  I hovered round a corner waiting for her and by the time she appeared, the boys had pushed off, no doubt to sit on another wall somewhere. Such is the glamorous life of teenage boys in Finchley.

  ‘Sorry, false alarm,’ I said as Nesta looked around for the boys.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Nesta. ‘I’ll come to the class with you.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yeah. It will be good experience in case I ever have to play someone with weight problems when I’m an actress.’

  ‘Hardly, Nesta. I mean who would cast you as a fatty?’

  Nesta rolled her eyes. ‘Haven’t you ever heard of padding? Costumes? Come on, let’s go in.’

  I didn’t object as I’d been feeling nervous about going in on my own so it was nice to have some company.

  Inside the hall were an assortment of women, some young, some old, some slim, some really enormous. One large lady gave Nesta a strange look as if to say, why are you here?

  Nesta beamed at her and did a twirl. ‘I’ve lost four stone so far. This plan really works if you stick to it.’

&
nbsp; She sat down next to the lady, who was called Jean, and soon they were like old pals, swapping tips and recipes. You have a great career as a character actress ahead of you Nesta Williams, I thought as I went to register.

  Our group leader was a middle-aged blonde lady called Shirley and as the meeting got going, I settled in to listen to what she had to say.

  ‘No mad lose-a-stone-in-a-week diets here,’ she said, ‘because they don’t work . . .’

  As she went on to explain the plan, it sounded reasonable enough. All foods were listed in a booklet and each one was given a number of stars, for example: an apple, half a star; a chunk of cheddar cheese, six stars! A piece of bread, one and a half stars. A pizza, five million thousand stars. A tub of my favourite ice cream, ten thousand trillion stars. Well, a lot of stars, anyway. It was beginning to dawn on me why my weight had been fluctuating. In Florence, I must have been swallowing a whole blooming solar system every day.

  ‘Each day you’re allowed between eighteen and twenty stars depending on your start weight plus as many vegetables as you like,’ continued Shirley.

  ‘Puts a whole new meaning on being starstruck,’ whispered Nesta.

  ‘I know, I’ve been a celestial disaster so far,’ I whispered back.

  However, it sounded simple enough and what I liked was the fact that no food was excluded, it was just a question of totting up the stars and not eating too many that were star loaded.

  I turned to the part of the booklet that listed chocolate. Two squares of any type = one and a half stars. Four squares = three stars. Eight squares = six stars. In most bars, there are about twelve squares so I quickly did my maths. A bar would be about nine stars. Two bars a day, eighteen stars and I’d have used up my allowance.

  ‘So are you saying that if I wanted to use up my stars on chocolate that I could?’ I asked.

  ‘Or on wine?’ asked Jean.

  Shirley smiled. ‘You could, in theory, but that wouldn’t leave you many stars left for proper food, and you’d end up feeling depleted. Sugar is like empty food, no nutritious value. No. This plan is about learning to eat the right foods. Read the booklets and try and pick a range of foods from all the food groups: protein, carbohydrate, a little fat, lots of fresh fruit and vegetables and then you can have a little chocolate or wine as long as you allow for it in your star allowance.’