Chapter 19.


    I think I''m going to pass out.


    As in, I think I''m going to pass out right here, right now, on the cold floor, with my limbs spread out like


    Nute on bread.


    "Go faster,e on. Even my Granny can do better than this," Maverick says and I wipe the sweat


    from my forehead and increase my pace on the treadmill.


    You might well be asking why I''m on a treadmill, sweating like a pig and running as though my life


    depends on it. Well, I got into something resembling a therapy session with Maverick and this was the


    result.


    Our conversation went something like this:


    "What are the qualities you admire in a person, April?" he said. He was seated opposite me with one of


    his legs crossed over the other.


    I hesitated. "Um... I like a person who''s confident being who they are and who doesn''t care what others


    think of them."


    He nodded  at my answer and wrote something down in his notepad before looking back at me. "And


    why do you admire those things?"


    "I want to see the things I don''t have in others," I said.


    "Do you believe that everyone is beautiful in their own way?"


    I gave a dryugh. "Excuse me? Have you met me? We can''t all be beautiful or I wouldn''t be here,


    feeling like this. Some of us are just... existing. We don''t like anyone and nobody likes us."


    I saw him frown before writing something back on his notepad. "If you had the chance to change


    something about yourself, what would that be?"


    "My size," I said, without thinking, and both his eyebrows shot up. "I''ve been criticized more times than


    I can count, just because I''m... big. I get that it''s good to love yourself, no matter who you are, but it''s


    hard to believe that when there are so many jerks in the world."


    And that was the end of the ''semi therapy session''. The next thing Maverick did was drag out a


    treadmill and order me to get on it. You know the rest.


    I was pretty powerless at resisting him.


    "That''s forty-five minutes already." He punches a button on the treadmill which causes it to stop.


    I ce my hands on my knees and pant.


    "This is crazy," I say between breaths and watch him tut at me.


    "You have to up your game. There''re still thirty more days to go." He strolls out of the room, as if he


    hasn''t just given me a death sentence - how am I supposed to do thirty more days of this? - and I follow


    behind.


    When I reach the kitchen, I fling the refrigerator open, taking out a huge, shiny tub of ice cream.


    Maverick catches my wrist. "Let me have a look at that. It looks expired."


    I look down at the ice cream before looking at him in confusion and handing it over. Then he does the


    unexpected.


    He empties all the ice cream into the bin.


    "You monster!" I stare at the empty ice cream tub.


    "Chill out," says Maverick calmly. "Ice cream is the least thing you need, right now. In fact, here''s a diet


    chart that you''re going to adhere to from now on." He brings out a marker pen from the cupboards and


    draws something that looks like a table on the refrigerator.


    I have no idea what''s going on right now. I just want more ice cream.


    "On Monday mornings, you''re having three hard-boiled eggs, some grapefruit, one banana and ck


    coffee." He''s writing the items down on the refrigerator as he''s talking.


    "I don''t like bananas," I say, whining slightly.


    "Well, I hear they go great with ck coffee."


    "But I don''t like-"


    He cuts me off. "For lunch," he says loudly, as though he hasn''t heard me. "You''ll have two hard-boiled


    eggs, one banana and ck coffee."


    "Why so many bananas?"


    "Fine," huffs Maverick, turning to write on the fridge again. "In that case, there''ll be no bananas for


    dinner. You can just have three hard-boiled eggs and some sd."


    I scrunch my face in disgust at the mention of sd. I haven''t eaten anything that looks remotely like


    lettuce since, well... since forever.


    He continues like this until he''s covered the whole week and the fridge just looks like a sad mess of


    eggs and sd.


    My ice-cream days are officially over.


    "Can''t I at least have some pie?" I ask desperately, in ast-ditch attempt to make the week more


    exciting.


    But Maverick''s putting down the marker pen and getting ready to leave the house. "Duty calls. See you


    My cell phone vibrates on the counter and I pick it up, without looking at the caller ID.


    "Jack''s in town," a familiar voice says on the other end of the call and I light up.


    ~~~~~~~~


    I don''t have a problem with making breakfast this morning because, ording to the chart, it''s just


    eggs, banana and coffee.


    The weather''s extremely cold this morning, making my ears and nose turn red. I shrug on a leather


    jacket and wrap my neck with a scarf.


    In no time at all, I''m on my way to meet Jim and my brother at a restaurant.


    Jim told me that Jack snuck into his housest night and got whacked with a shovel by his neighbour. I


    can''t me seventy-six-year-old Nana for learning self-defence in case there''s an intruder and Jack, no


    doubt, passed his boundaries.


    What is it with kids these days sneaking into people''s houses?


    I''m just d he went to Jim''s instead of calling Tony.


    I spot them immediately, sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant when I swing the door open.


    Jack has an ice-pack pressed over one eye and his sleek dark hair isbed all the way to the back.


    "I''m so d to see you," I grin, once I''ve reached their table. Then I nod at Jim as a form of


    acknowledgement.


    "Wish I could say the same," Jack replies dryly. "Did you eat your phone?"


    "I''m so sorry I didn''t pick up. You should''ve told me before yesterday that you wereing."


    "I was going to give you a surprise visit and what I saw at Tony''s ce came as quite a surprise."


    "I told him what happened with the fire and everything." Jim speaks for the first time since I got here.


    "Which you should''ve done beforehand."


    I mouthe him an ''I''m sorry'' as he diverts his gaze to somewhere that isn''t my face.


    He has every right to be pissed at me. I can''t even handle my own brother.


    "You know, I always thought you two shouldn''t have broken it off," Jack says to the both of us. "My


    sister was so dense at the time. Please take her back."


    I yank a strand of hair from his head as he yells out in pain. "What do you know? You were twelve and


    the only thing you should''ve been worried about at the time was if the color of your baseball cap was


    the right shade of blue."


    "Ah," Jim says, his lips lifting up into a small smile. "But he had his first chest hair at the time so I think


    he was man enough to own his opinions."


    I snort. "Yeah, right. It wasn''t chest hair, actually. An eysh fell onto his chest and it came off after he


    took a shower."


    "Don''t listen to her, she''s trying to ruin my favorite childhood memory," says Jack to Jim, rolling his


    eyes.


    "Can you cope with him until he travels back home to Mom and Dad?" I change the topic, already


    getting tired talking about chest hair. This is what happens when you have too much testosterone in


    your life. Boys just talk about trivial shit.


    In fact, they do it so much that it doesn''t even bother me anymore.


    Jack actually forgot I was a girl once and keptining about how quickly his pubic hair grows. He


    really needs to keep that sort of information to himself.


    "Yeah, of course I can cope with him," Jim says to me now, turning to give Jack a grin. "He''s actually


    goodpany. He''s cool, and awesome..."


    "And funny?" Jack smirks.


    Jim pauses to look over at him before continuing. "He''s cool, and awesome, and... goodpany. I


    think I can handle him."


    "Great. If he acts like a ten-year-old who had too much sugar, you have my permission to whack him


    on the face with a shovel again."


    "Speaking of whacking, how''s my eye?" Jack takes off the ice pack and all blood drains from my face at


    the sight of the bruise.


    There are huge chunks of blood clotting under the skin around his eye and everything''spletely


    purple. It makes me feel sick.


    "Put the ice pack back on," I choke out.


    "There," Jim turns to Jack without even flinching. "You have your answer; your eye looks pretty bad.


    Now let''s go." He stands up from his chair.This belongs to N?velDrama.Org - ?.


    "Don''t tell me what to do," Jack says stubbornly, refusing to move. "I''m not your puppet."


    "We''re having ice-cream for Brunch."


    "Then let''s get this puppet show started."


    I follow them out of the restaurant and watch as they both get into the car.


    "Aren''t youing along?" Jim pops his head out of the car window.


    "Nah," I say, drooling at the thought of ice cream. "I''m good."


    He gives me a questioning look before driving off.


    Maverick should be so proud of me right now for turning down an ice cream offer.


    I turn around on the walkway and head to the subway station. I''m almost there when I hear a car pull


    up beside me and I halt in my tracks.


    A leg stretches out from the back door and, when it opens slowly, my pupils dte. The red-haired


    nurse from Maverick''s house is stepping out of the car.


    As soon as she''s within my reach, she sizes me up and sticks her nose in the air. "We need to


    talk."