“I'm proud of ya, Mad, taking it in stride.”
“No choice, Carter. Passing out at Belle's birthday party … losing my dad. It put it all into perspective.”
Carter straddles his chair, setting the beer bottle down and picking up the deck of cards, shuffling them. “Twenty-one?” he asks, and I nod.
He deals the first hand, and we fall into an easy conversation. “So how does it all work? Training with Jo?”
I give Carter a detailed account of the fitness plan Jordan developed for me, showing him the app. “We log my workout progress each day, along with my nutritional intake. She can make adjustments as needed, but as long as I follow her plan to a T, I should see progress, whether it be in inches or pounds lost.”
“And Belle … you think it's okay to cut snacks out for her too?”
I shake my head, knowing where he’s going with this. “It's like this—if Belle learns how to eat healthy now, it's a tool she can benefit from for life. She has to learn the importance behind the different foods that will help her to grow and the risks she takes by eating unhealthy.”
“It just seems cruel to take her favorite snacks away.”
“I thought so too. You should've seen the look on her face when I explained to her at Publix that we couldn’t have cupcakes for a while.” I pull up the nutritional value for a Publix cupcake and flash my screen at him. “As much as I enjoy sweets, this doesn’t fit into Jordan’s plan.”
“But you'll do cheat days, right?”
“Not until I meet my goals.”
“And what is that?” he asks, seeming genuinely interested.
“A cupcake at twenty pounds."
I shouldn't feel the impending judgement that I suspect to come, but although Carter is my best friend, I’m not comfortable sharing my goals with him.
“And after twenty pounds?”
I close the app, and Carter grabs at my phone, snatching it from my hand.
“You're on Bumble?!” His mouth drops open into an O, eyes wide in shock.
Fuck.
I snatch at my phone, but he quickly stands, putting distance between us. “Woah, dude. If you expect to get a date, you need a better profile picture than this,” he jokes. “Here, hold still. No, turn your hat around backward. Show off your eyes.”
Did he really just say that?
“Okay, I get it. It's pathetic that I'm using a dating app, but—”
“Remember those words came out of your mouth—not mine,” he chastises. “So when are you going out on a date?”
Carter scrolls through the app, clicking on the profiles of different women.
“Probably not until I hit my second weight-loss mil
estone.”
“Which is how much?”
“Forty pounds.”
“The fuck? Why are you waiting so long?”
“It's just a goal, man. Who knows how long it will take me to reach it.”
“Fuck that shit.” He straddles his seat and continues to scroll, pausing between different profiles.