Age 15

Everything looked so good, but then Gus' spreads always did. There was everything from dips, prawn cocktail with on only the bay's finest shrimp, glossy, tantalising pies, a whole chicken, deviled eggs… enough to make Alex's mouth salivate.

Only, he couldn't have any of it. It may have been the summer break, but he'd be back at school soon, in his sophomore year. If he wanted that starting quarterback position, he'd have to work hard, and that included watching what he ate. That's what his coach told him as well, so he had to listen.

Some of the chicken with the skin off and some salad would be fine, wouldn't it? Protein was good, he needed protein for muscle gains, another thing his coach said. Alex wished he was brave enough to ask Gus for one with no dressing, or to put the dressing on the side so people could add it to their own plates. Instead, he tried to dig some from the bottom, where maybe the leaves hadn't quite been tossed in properly.

"Crab cake?" Haley offered as she joined him away from the table. Alex noticed she had gone for salad, too, and a dollop of the prawn cocktail. "I got too many, so you can take a few if you want. I love how you always eat my leftovers."

Alex shook his head. Not anymore. "Can't. Watching my weight. I won't make starting quarterback if I'm not in shape. You probably should too, if you wanna be top of the pyramid come fall."

"Geez, Alex, way to ruin my luau. Although, you have a point," she hummed. "If it'd been anyone else saying that-"

"Yeah, yeah, you'd have their nuts for earrings. I get it."

Why had he said that? Inside, Alex was cringing. There was nothing wrong with Haley, she was as stunning as ever. Even more when she relaxed and plumped her curves out a little. Now, she was picking slowly at her salad, wiping the sauce from the shrimp before it even touched her lips. Yoba, what a dick.

"You're right though," she continued thoughtfully. "Maybe I should get up early, work out with you sometime. But not every day."

Alex nodded his head in agreement, knowing full well Haley would never join him for any type of workout. She did the bare minimum for her cheer routines, yet somehow nailed them every time. What she lacked in discipline, she made up for with talent. Her natural rhythm was amazing.

The plate of deviled eggs sat tantalisngly in his eyeline. It's too hot for a big meal, he told himself. All that food's been sitting in the sun! You don't want it. The growl that came from his stomach told him he did want it. Eggs were full of protein, right?

No, dummy. Not when they're cooked and full of mayonnaise, he scolded himself. The sauceless chicken Alex put into his mouth instead felt like a punishment, but he chewed on it anyway.

Discipline, he told himself, that's what he needed to have. He'd already cut back on his grandmother's cookies; as much as he loved them, they were just empty calories. All that sugar and carbohydrates, they were all wrong for an athlete. And he wanted to be an elite athlete, right? Not just good, or even great, but the best.

You can learn to like this, he told himself instead. It's good for you! You want to go pro, well you gotta eat like a pro! Or, you know what'll happen, don't you?

Alex knew what'd happen. He wouldn't make it. He'd end up working dead-end jobs like his dad said he would, going nowhere in life.

"We could go and dance?" Alex suggested, getting bored and frustrated with all the food talk. Maybe if he wasn't looking at it, he wouldn't be thinking about it, and wouldn't feel like he was missing out on anything. Not to mention hungry.

"Nah, I'll get all sweaty and gross."

He knew Haley would say that. She hated the sticky feeling that came with this time of year. It didn't seem to bother her sister, who was ambling towards them from the dance floor.

"Hey you two, not dancing? Not going to eat those crab cakes? I'm starving! Alex, have you tried the deviled eggs? They're to die for!"

Alex had come to love Emily, even if she always brought chaos with her. In a world consisting of his grandparents' routines, school routines, his own practice routines, Alex wasn't always sure of the madness that came with his best friend's sister, but welcomed it as a breath of fresh air.

"We're on a diet," Haley answered for him with a note of exasperation. It wasn't called for at all; Haley hadn't even been on a diet till he'd said about it. "We don't want to let ourselves go and get all fat just because we're on summer break, right Alex?"

So, he had made her feel bad about it. That cringing embarrassment crept back in, and Alex wanted nothing more than to take his comments back. There was nothing wrong with Haley, and he'd made her feel shitty about herself.

Emily frowned. "Haley, you're my beautiful, talented sister, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You don't need to diet. And Alex? there's not a peck of fat on you! I don't know which of your coaches has gotten into your head, but you're fine. Both of you!"

She didn't get it. Alex knew she wouldn't, in the same way Haley also didn't get it. They thought it was about looking good, which was great, but not everything. He tried not to roll his eyes, that would be rude, although he could see Haley was already doing it for him.

"Ugh, you don't get it," she stomped, making Alex redden with embarrassment. Why did she always do this? And now there was tension between the girls, they were bickering, something Alex always hated, and the deviled eggs were calling to him. Stress always made him hungry.

Fuck it, he thought as he strode away from them and back over to the buffet table. One won't hurt. But he couldn't stop at one, they were only small, he'd have another, and another, and-

Shit, he'd eaten eight. Nine! Gus was chortling heartily, and Alex knew he'd let himself down again. The egg white turned to rubber in his mouth, what was he doing?

What if he did some extra reps tomorrow, would that fix it? Something in the back of his head whispered that he'd still failed, and Alex had to agree. Because he could work harder, he could always work harder, but if he didn't have any discipline then he'd never be elite.

Alex looked down at the empty plate. Somehow, the eggs had all gone, leaving behind a miserable hatred for himself and a bloating in his stomach. He'd fucked up again, let himself down.

There would be no more food for the rest of the day. He'd work harder, and ask his grandmother for nothing but salads and steamed white fish for the rest of the holidays. If he couldn't be disciplined, then he'd have to be punished. Wouldn't he?