Skinny (24 page)

I glance up to see the reflection in the mirror grinning back at me. With her wide grin and dark green eyes sparkling with excitement, the girl in the mirror looks beautiful. The smile . . .
my
smile . . . gets even bigger.

“Places everyone.” Ms. DeWise moves quickly through the backstage. “Curtain up in five minutes.”

“I’m going,” Briella says with a quick hug. “You’ll be fantastic,” she whispers in my ear.

The bubbles in my stomach rush to my head.

“Break a leg, Ever.” Chance grins at me. “Can’t wait for our big kiss.” He makes kissy noises and pushes his two index fingers together like they’re making out.

“Oh, shut up.” But I’m laughing.

I walk from the dressing room and take my place stage right. I try to ignore the rustles and hushed whispers going on behind me as opening-night jitters explode backstage. Something about the tension in the air reminds me of waiting to go into surgery — the nerves, the lights, the fear of the unknown. Surgery didn’t make every thing perfect, but I’m not sorry I went into that operating room.

“Break a leg.” Gigi, dressed in the heavy costume of the stepmother, passes on my left with a swish of long skirts.

“You too,” I whisper back.

I breathe in the air deeply, filling up my chest. I lift my head and push my shoulders back. The stage is empty in front of me. It’s dimly lit by the swaying brilliance of the waiting spotlights under the thick curtain that separates me from the audience. I hear coughs, muffled laughter, and the squeak of restless bodies in folding theater chairs. A baby cries and is quickly silenced. I feel like my head is lifting off my shoulders. Everything is far, far away.

There is another sound, but I’m the only one who hears it. A whisper. A faint echo. A small, familiar voice.

“You can’t . . .”

“You won’t . . .”

I know Skinny is here, too, because whether I like it or not, she will always be a part of me. I just don’t have to listen to her.

Besides, there’s too much else in my head, and my heart, to listen to faint echoes. Instead I think of my entrance. My movements. My lines. My music. Those brilliant lights shining on the other side of that curtain tonight will change me forever. I know it. Surgery changed my stomach. Losing weight changed my body. Rat’s love changed my heart. But saying goodbye to Skinny changed me most of all. Because Skinny is . . . was . . . me. Now it’s her turn to listen. She needs to hear what’s going to happen on this stage tonight.

The squeak of the curtain ropes being pulled echoes backstage as the waiting cast takes a collective breath. The sliver of light in the slit of the closed curtain becomes wider and wider. I stand quiet and, in that moment between when I suck the air into my lungs one more time and then let it out again slowly, the pit orchestra begins to play the overture. The audience goes silent. Waiting.

I stare out at the stage. I lift my hand to my throat, feeling the bump of the tiny elephant charm around my neck.

It’s time.

The trumpets announce the entrance of the chorus. My fellow cast mates push past me and out into the lights. The herald steps up center stage to loudly proclaim that the prince is giving a ball. The chorus begins to sing, and I pick up the prop packages at my feet. Ms. DeWise nods to me from behind the curtain across the stage. My cue.

I won’t hide. Or cower. Or apologize. I know there’s room for me out there.

I step out into the light.

Gastric bypass surgery was a positive experience for me, but it wasn’t a magic wand. I will always struggle with weight and body image issues. This might be your battle, too. Or you might wrestle with negative thoughts that say you’re “too stupid” or “too poor” or “too tall” or “too ugly.” Don’t believe it. You are so much more.

There is a reason why Ever’s last name is Davies. My incredible agent, Sarah Davies, completely adopted Ever’s story with a passion and enthusiasm that was contagious. Sarah and I not only share a birthday, but we also understand this story in a way that connected us personally and professionally. I am so grateful for her guidance and ex per tise. Special thanks also to Julia Churchill, Greenhouse UK agent, for her experienced advice and knowledge of the international marketplace.

Thank you, Scholastic! You are my dream publishing company and you have been fantastic. It was love at first sight when I first opened a Scholastic Book Club flyer as a student. Later, as a teacher and teacher of teachers, there was nothing better than the day the book order arrived in my classroom. Joining the list of esteemed Scholastic authors is a surreal experience, in the best possible way.

My wonderful editor, Aimee Friedman, first and foremost has the heart of a writer. Her fine editorial skills certainly made this a better book, but her understanding of the writing process and the need for positive reinforcement all along the way nurtured me completely. Thanks especially to Scholastic’s Debra Dorfman, Ellie Berger, Lori Benton, David Levithan, Abby McAden, and Elizabeth Parisi for their amazing talents and unwavering support. Thanks also to production editor Starr Baer, for the seamless way every thing came together. I publicly apologize to my copy editor, Lauren Cecil, for my awful use of commas, capitals, and quotation marks. You’re my unsung hero. I so appreciate the skills you have that I obviously don’t share.

My deepest appreciation and gratitude also to Stella Paskins and the team at Egmont UK. I’m thrilled to be a part of the new Electric Monkey imprint.

I am so blessed to have found a writers’ group that supports me through every aspect of the publishing journey. YAMuses — Bret Ballou, Katy Longshore, Veronica Rossi, and Talia Vance — are amazing. YAH MUSES! Love you, guys! Virtual hugs all around. Love also to longtime writing partners and wonderful friends Kathi Appelt and Debbie Leland, who never gave up on me. Lorin Oberweger, your insight and skills brought this manuscript to a new level, and I’m so grateful you’re part of my writing team. I raise a toast to my crazy happy-hour work group — Derek Decker, Jody Drager, Heidi Frederiksen, Shelley Haddock, Karmen Kelly, Rod Lucero, Sue Lynham, Heidi Propp, Karen Rattenborg, and Cerissa Stevenson. I always feel your cheers and support.

Jay, thanks for your attentive post-op nursing skills, nurturing caretaking, and your continual support of my dream to write and publish a novel. You’ve appreciated the crazy, and I thank you for that.

Finally, thanks to my family, who always encouraged my creative side. Dad and Marty, I love you. Mom, I miss you every single day.