Chapter 36 Cassidy
Chapter 36
Cassidy
Cassidy’s on edge.
She’s felt this way most of her life, but it’s gotten progressively worse in the last few days.
The hike on Beech Mountain is strenuous, even for her, but she feigns ease, breathing through muscle strain and forging ahead. The mood among the group has turned sour, she thinks to herself. So much drama. Who knew that an inn, peaceful as a puffy cloud, could hold so much weight? And she knows about weight.
There aren’t any scales on-site, but before leaving Chicago, she threw hers in the trunk of the rental car. Sneaking out to retrieve it that morning, she was disgusted to see she’d tacked on three pounds since their arrival.
She hears the laughter. The names those girls in high school called her. Then her mother flashes in her mind. The extra weight she gained in her last years. Her unexpected death. Cassidy won’t let that happen to her. So yeah, she would smile and sweat through it.
Her mind wanders to Rosalie, and she feels a pang of sadness about the little time they’ve spent together. Wherever Cassidy goes, Rosalie chooses to go somewhere else. She doesn’t understand it, especially when she and her own mother were so close. Suddenly, Rosalie is taking advice from the inn owners and makeup tips from Simone, and she even looks different, though Cassidy can’t put her finger on why.
Tonight, she’ll try to have some alone time with her. And she’ll wear the white dress to dinner, the one from Calypso St. Barth she picked up on Gilt. It is long and flowy with a sizable slit that runs from her hip to her ankle. She feels sexy in it, and that empowers her.
She can tell something has happened between Adam and Henry. One minute they were making their way through the forest together, and the next they were miles apart, not uttering a word. Adam has been eyeballing her the whole time. She can feel him staring at her tits and ass, not even bothering to try to hide it. Penny saw it too. She rolled her eyes in that way that signaled girl code. Something about that guy rubs her the wrong way.
The lightheadedness comes on fast. She counts her morning calories and her special pills and wonders if her body is defying her. She stops, grabs hold of a tree, and steadies herself. The last thing she needs is for anyone to see her slowing down. She takes a swig from her water bottle and lets the cool water stream through her body.
When she hears the others about to catch up, she inhales and forges ahead. She doesn’t care if it kills her. Being first to finish the trail is worth it.