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hamburgers, pizza and mashed potatoes. Marshmallows dance through my dreams. I swim in a tub of whipped cream. I dive into a hot fudge sundae. Jelly beans cascade down my face. They get tangled in my hair. Zoe tosses them at me. Jelly beans hit my nose and wake me up before my alarm blares. I pop my eyes open and shake the images of flying food out of my head. Then I remember breakfast.
    Vegetables! How can I eat vegetables at 8:00 AM ?
    I slip into my new jeans and a white shirt and head downstairs. I open the fridge and stare at the vegetables filling the shelves and overflowing in all the bins. And then I see veggie juice! I can drink breakfast!
    â€œI thought you might like that,” Mom says, heading over to the coffeemaker.
    â€œYes! I love veggie juice. Thanks!”
    I slurp down a glass. Then I cut up carrots and cucumbers. I pop them into a bag with baby tomatoes.
    All the way to school, I think, One size down in a week. Two sizes down in two weeks. Soon you’ll be back to your old weight. All you have to do is get through day two of the seven - day diet. It’s one day at a time, and in the words of the diet— you can do it !
    And I will!

“Never eat more than you can lift.”
    â€”Miss Piggy
    chapter seven
    I think of food in homeroom. I dream of food in English. I want food in history.
    I even think about food during art, my favorite class. As I put the finishing touches on my ad for chocolate, Ms. Holmes tells us about our next project. She wants us to take an everyday object and give it a fresh visual twist.
    I dab deep brown paint on my chocolatebar picture and imagine a cookie tin as a jewelry box. I wonder what an empty bag of potato chips might look like as a puppet. I can almost see the mesh bag for oranges as a funky purse. Everything I think about is linked to food. Oh no! I am obsessed. I am a food addict!
    Just stop thinking about food, I order myself. I need to choose something for my next project that has nothing to do with food. But all I can think about are things that relate to food—cans, bottles, baskets, cartons, crates.
    At lunch, I sit with Denise and Carolyn. I eat my vegetables and try not to stare at Denise’s tuna sandwich. I look away so I will not drool over Carolyn’s strawberry yogurt. But when she pulls out her bag of chocolate-chip cookies, I eye it like I’ve never seen a cookie in my life. She offers me one, but I decline. I crunch down on a carrot. It tastes like wood.
    Zoe saunters in with Sarah and Mia. I glance their way and catch Zoe pointing at me and laughing. Mia laughs, but Sarah doesn’t. I can’t imagine what Zoe is saying about me. But I know it’s nasty.
    I listen to Carolyn talk about her art project. She did an ad for hot dogs. Denise did one for gum.
    â€œGum is your favorite food?” I ask Denise. “Is gum a food?”
    Denise laughs. “It was either gum or tuna. And I couldn’t think of anything to make tuna visually exciting. Ms. Holmes wasn’t crazy about my gum idea at first, but she finally said I could go ahead.”
    â€œSo, what did you do?” I ask.
    â€œI wrote No time to exercise? Try gum. The tastiest way to exercise your mouth .”
    Carolyn and I howl. “That’s great,” I say.
    â€œThat’s my kind of exercise,” says Carolyn.
    The bell rings. “Are you joining a club?” asks Carolyn as we head out of the lunchroom. “The deadline is Friday.”
    â€œI don’t know,” I say.
    â€œWe’re thinking of becoming mentors,” says Carolyn.
    â€œWhat’s that?” I ask.
    â€œIt ’s a new prog ram called Girls Helping Girls. You meet with girls from middle school who have issues like family problems or body image because they’re fat or…oops. Sorry,” says Denise. “I wasn’t thinking of you. Really. Anyway, you’re not fat. You’re just a little bigger than you were last