“Am I getting fat?” she asked Manda that afternoon on the phone.
Manda laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Come on, Manda,” she insisted. If she wasn’t serious, she wouldn’t be asking her friend’s opinion. “I’m not joking here. I want your honest opinion.”
“Are you deaf? I gave you my honest opinion, girl. No way are you fat.”
“Not even a little?”
Manda sighed into the phone. “Well, if you are, then it’s invisible . . . or in your head.”
“So, I’m a fathead?”
That got a laugh.
Heather continued. “Maybe you should take a look at these new pics that just arrived at my house.”
“Of you?”
“Yeah, they’re of Kevin and me.” She propped the phone against her chin and shoulder as she slid the photos back into the large envelope. “Except my brother looks so tall and slender.”
Like I used to, she thought.
“You’re stick thin, Heather, and I’m not kidding.”
She wished she could believe her friend. “Guess you’ll just have to see the pics,” she said. “Then decide.”
“Bring them to ballet in an hour. Jenna, Livvy, and I will give you our honest opinion . . . that is, if we see the least hint of flab.”
They said good-bye, and Heather hung up the phone.
* * *
At Natalie Johnston’s ballet class, Heather worked extra hard during centerwork. And later, during pointe technique, she felt downright gloomy. Jenna and Livvy must’ve picked up on her mood, and during the break, when they stood around with small cartons of carrot juice and apple juice, Heather bought nothing to either drink or snack.
“Are you feeling all right?” asked Jenna.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“Want me to get you something?” Livvy offered.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“So what’s with you today?” Jenna asked, grabbing a handful of carrot sticks.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just seem so . . . uh, I don’t know.” Jenna crunched her carrots loudly.
“Out of it?” she said. “Not myself?”
Jenna eyed her without saying more.
Livvy came over and stood beside her. “Is training getting to you?”
She wondered if she should tell them what was bothering her. But no, like Manda, they’d probably just laugh. Wouldn’t understand that she’d begun to feel as fat as the pictures looked. As heavy as Kevin had said she was the day of their fall.
“Maybe you’re tired,” suggested Jenna. “Is that it?”
“I got some photos back from Denver,” she began.
“Oh yeah, those,” Jenna said. “Manda said you were bringing them to show us.”
She wondered if Manda had also gone to the trouble of revealing what was troubling Heather. “Where’s Manda, anyway?”
They turned to see their friend talking with Natalie near the piano. “Looks like she’s tied up right now,” said Livvy.
Heather cringed. She hoped Manda hadn’t told Jenna and Livvy what she’d shared on the phone. For now, wanting to whittle down her figure was just her business.
It turned out the girls didn’t stick around after ballet, as they often did. So Heather carried the envelope of photos home with her without ever showing them to her friends.
Just as well, she decided.
* * *
She didn’t let on to her mother that she thought several of the photos made her look a little chunky. Might just be the camera angle, she thought. Photos always make people look bigger.
Mom seemed almost too excited about the portfolio photos. She talked of nothing else at supper. Even took the pictures out and held them up as she stood at the foot of the table, opposite Dad. “Have you ever seen such great photos of any ice dancers?” she gushed to all of them. “Let alone our own children?”
Dad, too, seemed impressed, asking to see the pictures more closely. Mom and Dad, their heads together, made a big to-do about the shots. “We’ll definitely use this photographer again, won’t we, dear?” Dad said, his face bright with satisfaction.
Mom rested her hand on Dad’s shoulder and beamed. “We couldn’t be more proud of you both,” she told Heather and Kevin.
Joanne and Tommy seemed interested, but only for a short time. After a while, they were more interested in knowing when and where dessert was than poring over photos of their older siblings.
“I’m gonna be as strong as Kevin when I grow up,” Tommy said, squirming.
Joanne nodded her head, eyes twinkling. “And I’m going to look as slim as Kevin when I finish working out.”
Nobody seemed to notice the remarks from the younger children. But Heather did, and she felt horrible. Crushed. Wasn’t it obvious who Joanne and Tommy thought looked better? After all, Tommy had said Kevin was strong. And just now, Joanne minced no words about wanting to trim down, lose her baby fat—“look as slim as Kevin.”
So . . . it was true what Kevin had said on the ice last Friday. She was too heavy.
Well, not for long. Starting this minute, she was going to make some changes. Some big changes!
Photo Perfect
Chapter Five
“Skinny is beautiful . . . skinny is beautiful,” Heather chanted over and over.
She had been studying, doing her math homework in her room, when she got up to stretch. Going over to the window, she pulled back the curtains trimmed in pink rickrack and looked out.
It was mid-March, and the ground was beginning to peek through melting snow. No one could tell how much more snowfall they’d get this season. Snow was known to come in blizzard size this time of year in Alpine Lake, nestled high in the Rocky Mountains. But the fact that there were more than just a few brave blades of grass showing through the layer of white meant spring wasn’t too far off.
With spring coming fast, the summer skate competition was on their heels. That’s how Heather had been programmed to think. Skaters—any athletes involved in competitive sports—knew there was no time like the present to get it together. Never any time to waste.
Turning away from the window, she moved toward the tall, oval mirror and stared. She scanned every inch of herself. Then, glancing up at the poster of world-famous ice dancers Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean, she looked at their overall body types.
They’re stick thin. Just like the models in the magazine at Dome Forster’s Boutique, she thought.
Going back to her desk, she wondered how long before she might begin to notice a difference in her own weight. Then a brain wave hit. She hurried out of the room, heading to the bathroom. There she weighed herself—one hundred and five pounds. She hadn’t lost a speck of fat since refusing dessert last evening! She’d also made a point of not eating or drinking during their break at ballet.
Mom had frowned, but only slightly, when Heather asked for cold cereal this morning instead of eggs. She’d only picked at her toast, not buttering it at all. And turned up her nose at warm cocoa.
Must take several days, she thought, determining to cut back on her food intake.
She’d do it, little by little, so no one would notice or protest. Maybe then Kevin would say nicer things about her, his long-time skating partner. And maybe Joanne would say she wanted to be as slim and pretty as her big sister when she grew up.
She knew Mom would be her biggest hurdle. Her mother was hooked into healthy foods, wanted her kids to feel good—“the picture of health,” Mom often said.
Well, Heather had gone Mom’s route for nearly twelve years. It was time to do things her way.
* * *
When she finished her math assignment, she stayed at her desk. For a while, she doodled on a blank sheet of paper, daydreaming as she did. Then she began to write her name in cursive, over and over: Heather Elayne Bock . . .
Thinking back to the photos—the ones she hadn’t shown to her Girls Only Club members—Heather imagined what
it would be like to ice-dance with someone other than Kevin. Brother-sister pairs were supposed to be ideal. At least, until a skater reached the late teens. But even then, Coach McDonald had always said a brother-sister team was the way to go. The best hope for Junior Olympics.
Her biggest hang-up was having to look so much like Kevin. She was her own person, wasn’t she? Yet they dressed nearly exactly alike on the ice, moving in perfect symmetry, smiling on cue, flowing to the music, performing difficult stunts.
Like puppets on a string, she thought. Look-alike puppets.
It had been Mom’s idea to get them started in ice dancing. They worked so well together, maybe because they were less than two years apart in age. And they both shared a love for skating, as well as being part of a close-knit homeschooling family.
Their hair color was identical. They even had the same shade of blue eyes. Twins in every way except age. That is, if you could call yourself a twin with your older brother. Kevin was thirteen, going on fourteen, and as skinny as a handrail. She, on the other hand, was a girl, not even a teen. A “heavy” girl, at that.
Lifting up her sweater cautiously, Heather looked at herself in the mirror, trying to see her ribs. Someday soon, she’d be able to count them. That was her goal—to get down to nothing. Just like the magazine models. She’d show her skating partner. Little sister, too.
As for Mom, Heather felt pent-up anger toward her. She didn’t quite know why. Unless it had something to do with being pushed too hard and fast into a mold. The brother-sister thing? Maybe that was the trigger.
Whatever it was, Heather was unhappy. Dissatisfied with how she looked.
* * *
“What’re you doing?” Joanne asked, standing at the door, looking in.
Startled, Heather pushed down her sweater quickly. “Don’t you ever knock?”
Joanne smirked and opened the door wider, coming into the room. “I saw you peeking under your sweater,” she said in an accusing tone. “That’s really weird, you know.”
“Mind your own business.”
“What were you looking at?” came the next awkward question.
“Listen, Joanne, I’m really tired, and it’s late. Don’t you have to brush your teeth or something?”
“Only when you tell me what you were doing in the mirror.” Her sister marched over to the dresser and leaned on the front, her hands on her hips.
“Who said you could even come in here?”
“You didn’t stop me.” Joanne’s eyes were serious.
“Well, I’m asking you to leave. Now.”
Her sister’s eyes were blinking fast. “Don’t be so mean, Heather. That’s not what Jesus wants you to be.”
“I’m not being anything to you. Now, get out of my room!” With that, she scooted Joanne along toward the door.
“I’m telling Mommy.”
“Please do.”
Joanne turned and stuck out her tongue. “Don’t make me!”
“Well, if you don’t tell Mom, then I will.”
That silenced Joanne. She pulled another face and ran off down the hall to her own room.
Relieved, Heather turned her attention back to the mirror. This time, she kept her sweater down. Instead, she leaned over and rolled up her jeans. She looked long and hard at her ankles. “Could use some slimming,” she whispered.
* * *
Though she was preoccupied with her figure, Heather thought through the steps and moves to the American Waltz as she showered. Letting the water beat on her back, she performed the dance in her head. She and Kevin planned to skate for the Novice level silver dance test next November. Their first shot at Novice. They would present the dance in July at the summer event, too. It was a good chance to practice and compete with a “live” audience.
The meter was in three-four time: one, two, three—with the accent on the first beat, a typical waltz beat. The tempo was sixty-six measures of three beats. One-hundred-ninety-eight beats per minute. Smooth and flowing, the waltz had stylish direction changes, graceful and uniform in pace. Knees bent, corresponding with the heavy beat in each measure, they would skate in perfect unison.
Ice dancing was much different from pairs skating. In pairs, there were side-by-side jumps, spins, and other moves. But ice dancing was all about footwork—mostly fancy steps performed in precise time with dance rhythms such as the polka, tango, waltz, and fox-trot. The steps of each dance were drawn on a diagram of the ice rink. The International Skating Union and U.S. Figure Skating Association preserved music libraries with suitable music for each of the compulsory dances. Techniques such as conformity to the style and mood of the music, placement of steps, movements of both partners, good form and style, edge technique, dancing to the beat, and character of the music were essential elements for a top mark by a judge.
As much as Heather wanted to test to the next level, which would set them up for the Junior level international competition, possibly as soon as next year, she struggled with the twin image thing. How far did they have to take it? Would she ever be her own person?
On the other hand, she knew better than to question her future. Ice dancing with Kevin was the surest way to Olympic fame and success. She’d gone through tough times, struggling with the notion of becoming a free skater, going it alone. In the end, though, she knew where she belonged—as Kevin’s skating partner. They were fantastic skaters together. Coach McDonald told them so, and often. They were headed for gold.
Someday.
Photo Perfect
Chapter Six
At breakfast, Heather sat down to a full plate of food. Mom had been up very early, making her delicious whole-grain bread and homemade granola cereal. There was fresh fruit, too—cantaloupe, bananas, and strawberries.
Heather looked down at the plate, just staring at it. Mom had gone out of her way to prepare a good “skater’s breakfast,” as she liked to call it. Small dishes of yogurt were set off to the left of both hers and Kevin’s plates.
I’m not hungry, Heather told herself.
Knowing full well that Mom would expect her to eat heartily, she slowly ate two spoonfuls of granola softened with skim milk. She figured if she took her time, ate at a snail’s pace, she could prolong the meal until it was too late to finish.
“You’re not eating, Heather.” Mom had noticed.
She shrugged. “Don’t feel like it.”
Mom glanced at the wall clock. “Well, you can’t sit there and just look at your food. Not when you’re expected to train at the rink this morning. You’ll need the nourishment.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Kevin looked up. “Since when?”
“Since now.” With that, she got up from the table and trounced out of the kitchen. She could hear the not-so-discreet comments whispered in her absence. This was just the beginning, and Mom did not understand.
* * *
She was actually a little surprised that she got through the day till lunch without feeling too weak or light-headed. No symptoms she might’ve experienced by now, due to her new eat-less approach to life, seemed to be evident. Best of all, she’d felt lighter while on the ice, after scarcely any breakfast. A great feeling.
After their homeschool sessions, she decided to head over to Natalie’s ballet studio, a short walk away. Every other Wednesday, Natalie offered “free workout” sessions for super-dedicated students. Heather wanted to work on limbering up her knee a little while.
In the locker room, she dressed in her warm-up tights, then sneaked a peek at herself in the full-length mirror.
Still too fat, she thought, noticing the slightest pad of flesh around her knees.
Livvy Hudson soon caught up with her at the practice barre. “You look tired,” she said. “Feeling okay?”
Heather nodded. Now wasn’t the time to get into the “going skeletal” thing with Livvy. Her friend would never understand. Besides, Livvy was an only child. How could she begin to relate to a younger sister’s flippant remark? Or an o
lder brother’s crude comment? All good motivations to drop some pounds.
Livvy was pushing harder, doing longer stretches than Heather had the energy for. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Livvy asked.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” This was annoying, coming from Alpine Lake’s award-winning free skater.
Livvy eyed her curiously. “I don’t know. It’s just that—”
“What?”
“You look pale, that’s all.”
Heather smirked and increased her efforts, still cautious of her knee. She refused to accept the fact that she did feel a bit weak. After more stretches and moves, she drank lots of water. Water never made anyone fat, Heather thought. The water seemed to take the edge off her hunger pangs.
During break, she purposely denied herself her usual snack intake, pitching half the turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich her mother had packed—“just in case you’re hungry,” Mom had said.
Jenna caught her trashing part of the food. “Whoa, girl, isn’t that the whole-grain, super-good stuff your mom bakes?”
“Yeah, so?”
Jenna’s eyes were intent on her, squinting nearly shut as they walked to the small room just off the studio area. Natalie’s students hung out there before continuing workout sessions.
Manda was waiting, obviously glad to see them. Jen chatted with Manda for a moment, then fell into a plump chair, turning to Heather. “Hey, that’s great stuff.” She meant the sandwich. “Next time you don’t want your mom’s good snacks, just hand them over. Okay?”
Manda got a kick out of Jen’s comment. “Sounds like she’s very serious,” Manda said, munching on a celery stick.
Jenna smiled. “I wish my mother had time to bake bread.”
Livvy joined them about the time Heather was finished. “Are you leaving so soon?”
“Yep,” Heather said. “Gotta run.”
“Where to?” asked Jenna.
Girls Only! Page 15