I brushed my teeth fiercely, trying to be thorough and speedy, removing all traces of lasagna. But the hot water of the shower couldn't be rushed. It unknotted the muscles in my back, calmed my pulse. The familiar smell of my shampoo made me feel like I might be the same person I had been this morning. I tried not to think of Edward, sitting in my room, waiting, because then I had to start all over with the calming process. Finally, I couldn't delay anymore. I shut off the water, toweling hastily, rushing again. I pulled on my holey t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Too late to regret not packing the Victoria's Secret silk pajamas my mother got me two birthdays ago, which still had the tags on them in a drawer somewhere back home. I rubbed the towel through my hair again, and then yanked the brush through it quickly. I threw the towel in the hamper, flung my brush and toothpaste into my bag. Then I dashed down the stairs so Charlie could see that I was in my pajamas, with wet hair.
He did his best to achieve a Zen-like state, repeating "Please don't puke, please don't puke, please don't puke," like a mantra. He was almost there. Dave approached a light, and the car in front of him stopped short. He slammed on the brakes. This made his stomach slam into his thighs and he projectile- vomited onto the windshield, like Linda Blair in The Exorcist, for several long seconds. Not an inch of windshield was spared, and nothing remained in his stomach. Toweling o just enough to see, he raced to his client's house, jumped out of the car, and ran up to the front door. "What the hell happened to your car?" was all his client could say as Dave walked past him directly to the kitchen. It was time to have another shake. The calories were not optional. Gaining more than 180 pounds of muscle is possible, as is squatting with fourteen 45-pound plates on the bar, but neither is common. Doing the uncommon requires uncommon behavior.
annaabi.ee 
