The Green Ticket Read Online Free Page A

list: start marketing project, schedule a haircut, and finish laundry. My to-do lists were my best friends. I had daily, weekly and monthly to-do lists that I couldn’t live without. My friends liked to poke fun at me for them, but I loved being organized.
    Saturday night I attended a house party with Carmen, Emma, and Hannah. Hannah Lovington was the fifth girl in our group, the classic overachiever. Hannah was not one to imbibe often, so she usually acted as our DD when we went to parties. Her father was a neurosurgeon and her mother a psychiatrist, so she had a lot of expectations to live up to. She was attending Kaufman to get her generals out of the way, then transferring on to med school at the University of Iowa. When Hannah decided to let loose and party––which happened about once every other month––she was a blast. We still loved her even when she wasn’t in Hardcore Hannah mode (she hated the nickname, said it made her sound like she was making a porno) and we understood why she didn’t hit the bottle as hard as the four of us. A surgeon and psych for parents? Daunting.
    Lila and I both had off from Tastie’s on Saturday, which meant we had to work Sunday. Our shift wasn’t bad that day, 11-4, and I even dragged Lila to the gym with me that night. I didn’t know which was harder–– getting her to the gym or getting her to make it onto a machine once we were there.
    “Lila, get your ass on the treadmill. You can still read the magazine while you walk.” I was jogging lightly on one of the five treadmills Kaufman had in their student gym. The place was quiet–– most students probably still recovering from their weekends and frantically trying to finish homework for Monday morning classes. Only one other girl was stationed in the back corner, doing sun salutations on a yoga mat.
    Lila was lying on the carpeted floor on her back, reading last month’s People magazine. She was supposedly also doing crunches while reading, but I had counted maybe two so far. “I will, I will. I just want to finish this article. Did you know Lola Haloshi is pregnant? How could someone that skinny be knocked up?” She continued to read the article, engrossed about how the “allegedly” anorexic supermodel could be with child.
    “What happened to the workout schedule we drew up for you? Are you following it at all?”
    “Yes! I took a thirty-minute walk with Joel around campus last night and checked it off the calendar.”
    “What about your strength training? I thought Joel was going to accompany you to the weight room yesterday after your brunch date.”
    Lila groaned and got to her feet, reluctantly stepping on the treadmill and keying in her weight, age, and desired length of workout. “We got into an argument at brunch, so I did some shopping to cool myself down instead.”
    “But you won’t be able to check that off your calendar!” I had helped Lila make a fitness calendar, similar to the one I had made for myself. I scheduled cardio days, strength days and workouts for Pilates and yoga. I marked days off as well so I didn’t overexert myself. I had the day’s color coordinated and left a little box next to each workout so I could check them off as I completed them. Lila called it my “anally organized workout death calendar.” But since she wanted to drop some pounds, she asked me to make one for her. I was disappointed she was already wandering off schedule. Disappointed, but not really shocked.
    “My calendar will survive. I’ll try to make it up today,” Lila said, barely shuffling her feet on the treadmill. She flipped another magazine page. Staying up to date with all things Hollywood was important to her. She wanted to be informed at all times, just in case she were to get discovered in little ole Des Moines. That way, she could spout off all her knowledge of fashion, baby names, and celebrity hookups and land her dream job.
    “I wasn’t going to go to the weight room today, but I can