Chapter Fifty-Nine

The late bell rang at the same time Lorna had resistively followed behind Nicky into Mrs. Mendoza's office. A queasiness had molded within the pit of her stomach at the knowledge that she was missing her science class to meet with the school counselor. She couldn't begin to imagine what repercussions she'd be facing not only with Mrs. Bell but even more so—and most importantly—with Annalisa. Air escaped her lungs in a slightly noisier fashion than she would have liked as she plopped herself down in a plastic chair across from the wooden desk. Her eyes shifted onto Nicky, who looked back at her with a warm smile before she turned towards the door and carefully exited out of it.

Once the door clicked shut for a second time—now leaving Lorna alone with the counselor—the only sound in the room was gentle clacking of keys on the keyboard and very soft, subtle, breathing coming from the middle-aged woman who sat behind the computer on the other side of the desk. It brought a soothing bout of tingles through the sides of Lorna's head to listen to. She sighed, twisting her head to peer out the stained glass window that she came to appreciate rather heavily the more time she spent in there.

Mrs. Mendoza finished writing out an email and after clicking the send button, she pivoted her chair so that she was now facing the student who'd entered inside her office. A soft smile was formed on her face to see it was Lorna. She took a liking to the girl after the first couple of meetings with her—an innocent energy surrounded her that without any effort brought out her motherly nature.

However, once her reading glasses were pushed to the bridge of her nose, a closer look showed Gloria that something about Lorna's aura seemed off today. The expression etched on her face appeared more melancholic than what she was used to seeing. Grant it, she knew living with a foster family wasn't the happiest of things to go through but Mrs. Mendoza got the impression this went deeper than just that. She inhaled a breath and reached for her cup of coffee.

"It's been a little while since I've checked in with ya, Lorna," she said between sips of coffee. Eyes peering her over attentively. "How have you been doing? Are ya adjusting well to the foster family you're staying with?"

Nervously slicking back her hair, Lorna shifted her legs out of habit. It didn't really calm her down any but at least it busied her enough that her mind was too occupied to be bombarded with unwanted thoughts. Her eyes naturally fell onto the traveler's cup cradled in the Hispanic woman's hands and she swiftly craved a coffee of her own. Coffee would give her hands something to do, she noted, so she wouldn't feel so damn awkward.

Brown eyes averted back onto the counselor, who's smile hadn't faltered but also hadn't caused an irritation to form like the smile of Mrs. Chapman always had the capability of doing. "I've been chipped. The Chapmans' chipped me," Lorna shrieked, returning her focus longingly onto that cup in her counselor's hand. She swallowed a good bit of air and tried to snap herself out of her coffee desiring daze. But if she kept her gaze and every last ounce of her attention on the coffee, she wouldn't have to think about the chipping incident or the morning incident with Red and Nicky or the fucking liver incident.

Eyebrows furrowing intriguingly, Mrs. Mendoza crossed a leg over her lap and resituated her cup on the coaster it had previously been sitting atop. That was not something she'd expected to hear today. And as the school counselor for merely twelve years, she'd heard some crazy stories throughout but a student being chipped? That was a new one. "Chipped? Huh, what do you mean?"

"I don't know," Lorna threw up her hands in an exasperated manner. She still hadn't fully wrapped her mind around what the officer had informed them of the night before—or rather earlier that morning. "A cop was banging on Red's front door in the middle a the night," shoulders simultaneously shrugged, "and she was sayin' the Chapmans were lookin' for me. The mother put a chip in my shoe to track me down. That's what the cop told me she said."

By the end of Lorna's revelation, Gloria's eyes were nearly as wide as the window at the end of her room. Many questions ran through her mind after hearing what was told to her. The top being how the hell did they even get this tracking chip made in such a short span of time? Her head shook distastefully and she focused her stare back on the brunette, observing her closely. The expression on her face hadn't changed much, maybe a little muter than it once had been.

She sighed. "Your foster family put a tracking device in your shoe?" A nod was given to her query and another sigh puffed its way from her larynx. She brought a hand up to one of her temples, rubbing at it carefully. The sensation didn't make comprehending the disclosure any easier but it did ease away the slight tension that had formed. "That sounds really invasive of them. I don't think they had the right to do that. How are you getting along with them, Lorna?"

An easement gradually came over her to hear that Mrs. Mendoza was seemingly on her side with the whole ordeal. It gave her a small comfort to acknowledge such. Despite that, though, it didn't make the hurt or betrayal towards her foster family disappear any. With a sigh, she moved her shoulder outward slightly and tilted her head until it was merely touching the top of it. Eyes no longer looked at the counselor but behind her at the pictures that collaged around the wall. They appeared out of focus so the pictures were blurred and not picked up by her pinpoint pupils.

"I make Mrs. Chapman mad a lot, I think. I'm not real shocked she would do something like that to me. I think she thinks I'm a bad person or somethin'," Lorna timidly admitted, shifting her eyes downward while tracing a finger anxiously around the cotton of her pants.

The words she spoke weren't an exaggeration, she affirmed; early on she was able to pick up on Mrs. Chapman's contempt towards her. It wasn't hard not to, she made it clear through her actions and how she talked to her. The way she articulated things showed how much she didn't want Lorna around. Of course, she sucked her lower lip inward, she couldn't blame Carol for not wanting her around—she wasn't good for anyone. That was exactly why she was in the predicament she was now to begin with. Everything circled right back to that very fact that she was no good to any of the people in her life.

"Here," Mrs. Mendoza reached over to place a box of tissues in Lorna's hands.

That was the only thing which made her realize she was crying. It must have been a silent cry because Lorna didn't notice the tears coming from her eyes until she was handed that tissue box by Gloria. She pulled one out from the hole and brought it up to dab at her cheeks. After, her stare returned onto the counselor and her teeth melded into the flesh of her tongue. "I'm sorry," she muttered, shameful of the tears that were, thankfully, long gone now. "I, uh, I didn't even know I was cryin'."

Tilting her head a small amount, Mrs. Mendoza furrowed a brow while pushing her glasses back up to get a clearer view of the teenager across from her. Her head naturally shook when she came to the acknowledgement that Lorna felt the need to apologize for crying. In fact, the gesture formed a rather noticeable pang in her chest.

"Honey, you don't ever have to be sorry for crying," her voice soft, though firmly assured Lorna. She reached a hand up to the top of her head and pushed the long strands of hair that fell over her eyes to the side. Eyes remained on the brunette the entire time, trying to decipher what she was feeling or thinking. Clearly, from the tears and solemn energy, something was amiss with her. Plus, the email she had received from Mrs. Reznikov the second she'd gotten in her office earlier confirmed that fact.

"Let's back up here a little, shall we?"

Lorna shook her head and rolled her neck around her shoulder, longing to get out of there. Not just the office but the entire school. She didn't want to be there today. Didn't even want to be fucking awake today, either. But both Red and Nicky ruined that for her. She felt tears lining her eyelids once more and that fueled her anger further.

Mrs. Mendoza didn't miss the building anger or fresh tears which threatened to spill from her eyes. Both sights caused the pang in her chest to double in size. Compassion melded onto her face, motherly instincts grew stronger. The urge to cradle and rock the disheveled young teen was intense but she refrained herself. Instead busied her hands with rummaging through her desk drawers for some teabags. She grabbed them out and placed them on the surface of her desk.

Eyes shifted back onto Lorna, who sat miserably in her chair, and a big breath of air expelled through her mouth. "What flavor tea do you want? I have raspberry lemon, lemon ginger, or apple cinnamon."

Lorna kicked her feet back and forth along the tiled floor beneath her. Eyes briefly looked at Mrs. Mendoza but quickly returned down onto her lap. She lifted a hand up to her forehead and rubbed at it violently. So violently that the tips of her nails left indents on the skin. But she didn't care. The anger was too much for her to give a shit about what stupid marks her own nails left. Tears continued to pile up beneath the lids of her eyes and she still refused to let them escape.

"Can I, can I have coffee, please?" She tried to keep the anger from showing through her voice. Mrs. Mendoza wasn't who the anger was directed at. But it was overwhelmingly consuming that she could barely keep control over it. Her bottom lip gradually began to tremble and despite her desperate attempts, the tears finally let loose and came falling down her cheeks like an incessant waterfall.

"Sweetheart coffee isn't the best choice right now for you," Gloria softly pointed out, seeing the multitude of emotions coming from the young girl's face and demeanor. Coffee was the absolute last thing Lorna needed right now, she mentally deemed. "You need something calming and coffee is the opposite of calming. Not with all that caffeine. It'll just make ya anxious. And by the looks of it, you're already anxious and upset. Tell me what's upsetting you right now."

A thick wad of saliva was angrily swallowed by Lorna. Nails dug deeper, sharper, into her forehead's flesh. She needed something—anything—to fucking take the goddamned unrelenting anger the hell away. Sitting only worsened it. She harshly forced herself out of the chair and started ragefully pacing the room. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. All she wanted was to fucking go home and pass the hell out in her bed. Suffocate the life out of her with that damned pillow. She didn't want to deal with this anymore. The foster family, the grief of her mother, the situation with her dad—all of it was way too much for her to handle. She could hardly breathe from how mind consuming everything was. And not having been able to purge that morning made the feelings, the emotions, that much more intense. This was exactly why she took the time to make herself sick every morning. Why she starved herself. So she didn't have to feel. So she could be numb. She craved the numbness.

That was all it took for Mrs. Mendoza to not be able to sit back and watch any longer. She jolted up from her seat and cautiously made her way over to the highly distressed brunette teen. Eyes gazed intensely down into the younger one's eyes. She opened her arms while calling out to her, "You could use a hug, couldn't you?"

There was a longing in Lorna's eyes that wordlessly told Gloria yes but she remained frozen in her spot, tears falling nonstop and hands tremoring along her sides. "Come here, Lorna. Come here; it's okay, you're allowed to be comforted," she softly reassured her, hoping to encourage her to come over and accept the embrace that it was obvious she needed.

The gentle command was enticing. Very enticing. Lorna craved comfort, craved the warmth and security a hug would provide her with. Yet, she couldn't find the will within herself to abide by the command. The self-loathing part of her wouldn't allow her to give in. Wouldn't allow her to admit that she needed to be comforted or cared for by anyone outside of her own self. Or that she had even been worthy of such gestures. A thickness was swallowed down, she bowed her head towards the ground and mentally counted each tiny spec which made up the tiles.

Still not a movement or a word from the teen Mrs. Mendoza easily noted. She observed her closely, walking nearer to her in a heavily cautious manner. The way the girl's head was bent downwards clued her in that shame was a possible feeling being currently experienced by her. She swallowed thickly, unsure how to help her. A breath of air was taken slowly in through her mouth, she inched herself a smidge closer and delicately placed a hand on the top of Lorna's shoulder.

"What are you feeling right now? What's running through your mind?" The inquiries were gently, carefully, asked through a softened voice. A voice that the counselor hoped wasn't going to push the teen even further away from the reality of the situation.

Lorna closed and opened her eyes several times without uttering a word. There wasn't a word she could think of to utter, anyway, right then. Her mind was boggled down by a plethora of thoughts which made formulating an answer to Mrs. Mendoza's questions merely impossible. There were numerous emotions that overpowered her as she stood there, frozen as if the soles of her feet were glued to the floorboards. She couldn't possibly name exactly what she felt at that specific point in time. Too much was going on inside her head to make such a determination.

"I, uh, I, erm," words stammered from faintly tremoring lips. She swallowed, opened her mouth again but nothing came out other than a squeal of a breath. Eyes peered frantically from Mrs. Mendoza over to the window at the back of the room. Frazzled. She felt frazzled. So frazzled that she couldn't speak or move. She couldn't even figure out what she wanted or needed at that time.

"You what? It's okay. Tell me what it is you need, sweetheart," Gloria softly encouraged, using the hand she still grasped onto Lorna's shoulder with to gently pat it. It constricted the blood flow in her chest somewhat to acknowledge how much the poor girl appeared to be struggling right now. Her motherly instincts were through the roof the longer she watched the other's tragic behavior.

Lips felt dry from the saltiness of tears which had long fallen over them. Lorna tried to moisten them with the slight movement of sucking both shaky lips inward but it hardly made a difference. She timidly returned her stare onto the short-haired Hispanic woman in front of her. Eyes searched her face thoroughly, easily noting the genuine concern melded to it. The sight caused a tightness to form in her throat. She loathed being the culprit of other people's worrying. It ignited her with an intense amount of guilt. She wasn't worth the concern, the worry that they had for her. She truly wasn't.

Overwhelmed from the guilt now seemingly consuming her, Lorna averted her eyes away and onto the lonesome traveler coffee cup that sat on a coaster next to Mrs. Mendoza's computer. Coffee might not be the smartest thing to ingest while already having her heart pounding in her chest and her anxiety through the roof but that surely didn't cease Lorna's craving for it. It would, at the bare minimum, give her a distraction. And distractions were always welcomed in Lorna's world. Distractions were also probably the reason why she was in the situation she was now. Maybe if she didn't choose to constantly push her feelings and emotions away, she wouldn't be dealing with as much as she was presently.

"Coffee," her voice slightly muffled from the sleeve of her shirt resting over her mouth. "Do ya, do ya have coffee in here? My mouth is real dry and raw, I need coffee please."

Gloria brought a hand up to her temple and rubbed it momentarily. She still believed coffee wasn't something Lorna should be having right now with how her emotions already appeared to be all over the place. But she wasn't about to start an argument over the matter seeing as it hadn't technically been her place to refuse the girl a coffee. A sigh escaped her and her hand released itself from the shoulder it once rested on. She made her way over to her desk, bending down to retrieve the small coffee pot from the shelf underneath the surface and placed it atop next to an electrical outlet for easy access.

After scooping fresh ground coffee into the filter and using her water pitcher to fill the pot to the three cup line, Mrs. Mendoza poured the water into the machine, set the vessel back underneath the filter, and clicked the switch on for it to brew. While it did so, she twisted around to focus her line of sight back on Lorna who still had yet to move from the spot she stood. "Why don't you come sit back down? The coffee's brewing," she stated, pointing her finger at the bubbling pot for emphasis.

Once she watched the brunette teen comply with her request, she went to retrieve one of the coffee mugs from a cabinet she kept a couple of her ones from home in. "Do you take cream and sugar in your coffee? I have a couple a those little plastic flavored creams in a basket over here if ya wanna take a look," her hand gestured over to the very object sitting on the far right of her desk.

Lorna swallowed the saliva at the bottom of her tongue and shifted her eyes onto where the counselor's hand was pointing. Nerves formed a knot in the pit of her stomach; she felt rather apprehensive at the word sugar. Sugar wasn't something she chose to put in her coffee or tea, not unless it was her favored zero-calorie sweetener. Her stare gradually returned onto Mrs. Mendoza, lower lip sucking into her top one. "Erm, uh, do ya—do ya got Splenda?"

Quirking both eyebrows, Gloria peered her over thoughtfully. Splenda? Since when did teenagers pay any mind to the different types of sweeteners? Mind swirled with questions. An uneasiness settled into her now. The coffee machine brewed the last drop of brown liquid into the pot and Gloria quickly moved to grab it from underneath. She poured it into the mug she'd previously placed on the surface of her desk and then rummaged through a drawer for a couple of spare packets of sweetener being requested.

"Splenda, huh? What makes ya ask for that?" She inquired while handing the cup to Lorna and then the two yellow packets. Her hands now empty reached for the basket of flavored creamers and brought it closer so that the teen could easily pick out which one she wanted.

Recoiling her shoulders, Lorna placed the mug on the small table to the right of her chair before opening the packets and pouring both of them into the dark liquid. A couple of vanilla creamers were grasped into Lorna's hands and brought over to empty into her mug. Once she had it mixed and ready for drinking, she allowed her focus to return onto Gloria.

With the mug cradled in the palm of her hand and hovering mere inches from her lips, she popped one of her shoulders forward while resting the side of her face against it. "It's, uh, it tastes better than real sugar. And, ya know, it ain't got no calories so that means it's good for ya. I'm tryna be healthy is all," she nonchalantly recited while finally covering her lips over the rim of the cup and sipping the warm, heavily-desired, liquid.

The uneasiness residing within Gloria only intensified further after hearing that. Something about the way Lorna said it rubbed her the wrong way. Made her ponder on whether there was more going on with her than she was letting on. A hand was brought up to rest on the side of her face as her eyes retained their gaze straight ahead. "Care to elaborate further on what ya mean by trying to be healthy, Lorna?" Eyebrows slightly waggled over brown eyes that held a fair amount of concern in them.

Lorna took another sip of coffee, letting her mind absorb the query before she responded. Her nose scrunched up as she tried to decipher what the counselor was getting at. "I don't really know what ya mean, Mrs. Mendoza. I just wanna be healthy is all. Eat right and exercise and all that."

Rubbing an eyelash out of her eye, Mrs. Mendoza inhaled a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest. Peering the young girl across from her with a sternness oozing from her light brown eyes. Sure, she wasn't against anyone wanting to take part in healthy habits such as consuming nutritious foods or being physically active—however, the way Lorna was explaining her strive for health didn't give her the best of vibes. It felt, to her, that there was some darker meaning to it all.

"What kind of food do ya like to eat?" Gloria asked nearly on autopilot. Though, after the fact, she hadn't regretted the question. Having been observing Lorna since their first meeting a couple of months back, she could tell the child was gradually getting smaller and smaller right before her eyes. In a way that didn't seem quite as healthy as Lorna would like her to believe, either.

Being asked such a question—a question to any normal person would be considered normal—fueled a constrictive sensation in Lorna's throat. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times followed by several hard swallows. None of which did anything to ease the discomfort that now loomed quite profoundly over her. Her thumb was used to twist around a random strand of her thick brown hair. "Erm, does uh does coffee count? Because I love coffee. I mean love, love coffee," she stated, continuing to nervously twirl around the same piece of hair.

It wasn't until a clump of hair fell into her hands that Lorna concluded her love of coffee might not be so beneficial to her as she thought. Her eyes peered down at the hair resting on her hand in her lap and a thick wad of saliva was gulped down her throat.

The falling of hair did not go without notice by the eyes of her school counselor, who had to cover her mouth with a hand to stifle the gasping breath that innately came up.

Lorna felt her eyes on her and fidgeted uneasily in her seat. She placed the hand with the fallen hair beneath her leg which rested under her other one and turned her head to focus her stare out through the stained glass window.

Mrs. Mendoza swallowed and shook her head dishearteningly at both Lorna's answer and the hair incident she'd just witnessed. Both of which confirmed her suspicion that something more was going on than the young brunette was letting on. Something that Gloria felt might have been beyond her level of expertise as a high school guidance counselor. Clearing her throat, she brought herself out of her thoughts and put her attention on Lorna once more. "Coffee is a beverage, sweetheart, not a food. Don't ya have any foods you enjoy?"

With the anxiety and unease as intense as it was, Lorna naturally lifted a hand to her forehead and slicked back her hair. One of the habits she picked up from her sister who also seemed to do that when she felt uncomfortable in a particular situation. She moved her tongue around the inside of her closed mouth trying to absorb the surrounding moisture since there still sat a scratchy sensation among it.

The hair clump was squeezed in her hand which remained under her leg. Eyes hadn't budged from the window. She didn't even realize the frown molded on her face until she caught an unexpected reflection of herself from a rather bright beam of sunlight pouring inside. Her brain couldn't process the question. All it did was tighten a knot in her gut. She felt like an alien for getting rather perturbed over a very simple query. A very simple query that other students—or people in general—would have the ability to respond to without even thinking it over. Yet, here she sat unable to come up with anything that didn't give away her fear of merely every food group.

"Lorna, come on, there's gotta be something you like."

The interjection was enough to take Lorna out of her active mind and recenter herself with the here and now. She deterred her eyes from the stained glass and slowly moved them back onto Mrs. Mendoza. A thoughtful, perceptive, stare was given to the older woman. "What do ya like to eat?"

She shouldn't have been surprised by the way in which Lorna turned the question around onto her. Maybe she wasn't completely but she had been taken slightly aback by it. The glasses on her face had slidden down and Gloria was bothered from the feeling of the metal scraping along the skin of the tip of her nose. They were swiftly pushed up by the tip of her thumb. Now, with clearer vision from the lenses properly covering her eyes, she stared the young girl over meticulously.

"I eat a lotta different things; I cook and love experimenting," Gloria couldn't resist the smile that subsequently formed upon her face. Cooking was a hobby she had cherished since her early childhood days when she'd help around the kitchen with her abuela on her family's summer trips to their home in Puerto Rico. Food happened to a big thing for the entire family; she couldn't even fathom what it would ever be like to have an abhor towards it.

A slow nod was given. Eyebrows arched rather interestedly over curious brown eyes. Lorna took her mug off of the table it sat atop and brought it forth to her mouth, sipping it in a savoring manner. "What kinda food do ya cook, Mrs. Mendoza? My mom cooked a lot too when me and Franny and Mikey were younger."

The fact that Lorna had brought up her mother tugged slightly at Gloria's heart now being aware of what actually happened to her. She took in a breath and swallowed down her emotions, knowing it wasn't her place to be feeling any which way over a matter that hadn't concerned her in the first place. Instead, she allowed a smile to settle back onto her face and tilted her head while going on to speak, "Well, my family and I are Puerto Rican so most a the meals I make are those types of dishes. But I think my favorite thing to cook are empanadillas, they take a little bit of time to prepare but it's all worth it when they're steaming fresh from the oven. My boys always beg me to make that when they come home to visit."

There lied an expression on the older woman's face which ignited a small amount of envy in Lorna. Envy to not have an unrelenting fear of foods. Envy of her being able to discuss meals without having to constantly overthink it all just to get the words out. Envy of how at peace—and rather happy—she appeared to be easily talking about the foods she enjoyed cooking. It was so foreign to Lorna the thought of enjoying food so much. She couldn't remember the last time she thought about food without having such an intense contempt towards it.

Despite all the thoughts running a muck through her mind at the time, Lorna, nevertheless, felt her lips curve into a small smile. Though she did not relate to the delight Mrs. Mendoza appeared to receive from the meals she conversed over, Lorna couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort listening to her talk about it all. "What are empanadillas?"

Smile widening somewhat, Gloria closed her eyes for a quick second. She reopened them after a breath released from her lungs and retained her stare on the young girl across from her. "The most delicious thing you'll ever eat," the words came out in a swift manner followed by a light-hearted chuckle. Gloria waved her hand in the air. "That's true but they're like—hmm, have ya ever had an apple turnover before?"

Lorna squinted her eyes and then gave a small nod. "Erm, I think so. Ain't that like an apple pie sandwich?"

Another good-natured chuckle escaped from Mrs. Mendoza's larynx. She nodded her head in acknowledgment to the query. "That's one way of putting it, Lorna," Gloria commented with a smile and took a second to swallow down the saliva which had formed from all of the talking. "Well, anyway, an empanadilla is basically like an apple turnover but instead of fruit for filling, I stuff them with a mixture of beef, peppers, onions and of course cheese. I took my abuela's recipe but added a little bit of my own to it, too. Would ya like to try one someday? I'm making a batch for my family dinner on Sunday—I could bring one to school Monday for you to try, how's that sound?"

Such an offer was rather tempting to Lorna. She swallowed uneasily and bit down on the side of her mouth, unsure what to respond with. Her heart swelled with warmth at the sweet gesture of being asked if she'd wanted to try a delicacy in her counselor's home. There rested a yearning inside of her to accept the offer, yet, her self-loathing half worked even harder to convince her why it was in her best interest to refuse.

"Erm, uh, how many, uh, calories are in them? It sounds real good but I just—I, um, I just I'm tryna be healthy is all," Lorna stumbled with her words, bouncing a shoulder up to the side of her face and then retreating it back to it's natural position once more.

Shaking her head concerningly at the stammered response, Gloria's smile morphed into a disheartened frown. She didn't like where this was leading to. It was clearer each time Lorna spoke of 'trying to be healthy' that there was a bigger problem at play. Everything began to add up the longer Gloria let her mind ponder over it all. Head tilted slightly and eyes peered rather worriedly across into the teen's. "You don't need to worry about that, honey. You're too young to be frettin' so much over calories," her head shook again to observe how frantic she was regarding the caloric volume of food.

Worried lines creased onto her forehead as she held her gaze on Lorna. It left her feeling highly unsettled hearing how hung up Lorna was on the calories of food items. Something she was certainly going to be emailing her outpatient therapist on later that day, she already decided on. "I will save an empanadilla and bring it with me on Monday so you can try it. I will not tell you the calories because not only do I not know but you also don't need to be overly focused on that. Is that understood Miss Lorna?"

Eyes widened uneasily at the thought of consuming something she had no nutritional or caloric information on. A large gob of saliva pooled at the edge of her mouth and she swallowed it thickly down. "But, I just—I wanna be healthy, Mrs. Mendoza. I gotta know the calories so I can keep track is all."

"And why are ya keeping track of caloric amounts? You can be healthy without being obsessive."

Slicking back her hair, Lorna chewed nervously on the corner of her bottom lip. Legs shifted uncomfortably in their current position. "It's to help me lose this, erm, bit of gut that I got is all. No big deal. I just wanna be healthy."

Gloria shook her head at the shocking comment and quickly got up to go sit down next to the hyper self-conscious teenager who sat rather restlessly. A gentle, comforting hand was placed onto her shoulder and carefully moved the girl so that they were facing each other. "You don't have a gut, honey. Ya don't needa be tryna lose weight, okay? Do ya have an appointment with Dr. Washington sometime soon?"

"Tomorrow," was Lorna's mumbled response with a simultaneous shake of her head.

Nodding alongside a bout of relief that swooshed over her, Gloria patted the hand she rested on her shoulder in a soothing manner. "Good. I'll be sending her an email later as I have a few things I think she could be of real good help with for ya, sweetheart."