Paint Me Beautiful

couldn't handle it. Not yet. Not when I look like this.
    I use my phone to search the Internet for exercises I can do while standing. I might look stupid doing it, but I really need to utilize my time wisely. Big Bob was so pissed at me this morning that he wouldn't even look at me when I came downstairs. I'm afraid that I'm going to unintentionally cause him to do something rash like kick me out. I can hear his imaginary words now. Claire, there's a time in every young adult's life that they have to take that first step and find their own way. I shiver. It really is time to step up my game. I take a swig of water from my new stainless steel bottle. It has a girl on the side, a swirly figure made of colored shapes, but she's nice and skinny. When I look at her, I feel like I'm being reminded of my goal, and I like that.
    I decide on calf raises since I can do those fairly inconspicuously and start to tuck my phone away when I get a text message from Emmett.
    I can't get that kiss out of my mind. Hope we're still on for Friday.
    I sigh and look up at the sky. It's not as pretty in this concrete jungle as it was in the wild darkness last night. Strange how the same thing can seem so different in another light. I try to think up something to say and fail. I'd like to go on a second date with Emmett, but that means getting involved. It means justifying my wants and needs and desires to a new person; it means spending time doing things that don't matter. I can't think up anything to say, so I tuck my phone away and focus on my exercises.
    The line shuffles forward.
    A few moments later, a woman and two men appear out the front door of the building we're all clamoring to get in and walk down the row. They pause by certain people, take down their names; they pause at Miss Double Zero, and they pass me by with barely a glance. People start to dissipate and the line rushes forward in excitement. I, personally, step out of it. What the rest of these folks, these newbies, don't know is that if they didn't grab your name, they don't want you. In a few moments, they'll take a megaphone and tell them to go home. I'm not sticking around for the humiliation. I start off immediately for the parking structure across the street and hear my name being called out behind me.
    “ Claire!” I wonder for a moment if I should ignore it. “Claire Simone!” I finish crossing the street and turn around to find two of my high school girlfriends in the crosswalk. They've got big grins on their faces and bags with Solo Bakery logos in their hands.
    “ Thought that was you,” Leanne says as both she and Jennifer crowd in too close to me and examine me with critical eyes. “You haven't called, haven't texted. I haven't even seen you online. What's been going on?” I look at Leanne's pretty blue eyes, hidden in her chunky face and try not to judge her. Emmett wouldn't; the forest didn't. Being a part of this industry makes you want to grade people on their appearance. It's a terrible habit to fall into, but an inevitable one. I try to think about how pretty Leanne's honey colored curls are instead as I smile back.
    “ I've been going to castings and – ”
    “ Losing a ton of weight,” Jennifer says like it's a bad thing. I look at her, and I try to think only about how perfect her bronze skin looks and not how her shirt stretches across her midsection. That's not the Claire Simone I've always been, but it's who I'm becoming. It bothers me, sure, but I want this so bad that I'm going to accept all the side effects whether I want them or not. I'll try to resist, but if it happens, it happens.
    “ Thanks,” I say blandly, but when she keeps going, this little nugget of pride wiggles up from the darkest depths of my soul and makes my smile a grin.
    “ No, really, you are so skinny, girl. What are you now, a size zero?” I laugh, and it's almost bitter. Yuck.
    “ Size two.”
    “ Shit.” Jennifer pauses and adjusts her pink T-shirt. It's so unflattering. It makes me want to rip it off and dress her in something more appropriate. A nice scoop neck top in black, two sizes larger, that's what she really needs. I run my hands down my J Brand Jeans and nibble my lip.
    “ What are you guys up to?” I ask, knowing that I'm falling into a trap of hanging out, but unsure how to get out of it without offending them. After all, we graduated six weeks ago, and I haven't talked to either of them even once. I don't have time for friends right now,