Big Boned (Heather Wells, #3)

by Meg Cabot

Athletes! They’re so particular. Morning jog, race training. Who even cares? Any way you say it, it still spells death to me.

Also, I think I felt something come loose back there. I’m not trying to overreact or anything, but I think it was my uterus. Honest. I think my uterus jiggled free.

You’re not fat Just need to get in shape Don’t measure success With measuring tape

You’re not fat But put down the cake Here, eat this celery Give dessert a break

You know things are bad at work when you’re actually relieved to be taken away to be interviewed by a homicide detective.

You’re not fat You’ll be all right Just say no to snacks And you’ll see the light

No use crying in the dark A DoveBar won’t fix your broken heart Put down that ice cream cone It’s time to do it on your own

All the money in the world Can’t buy this heart or ruin this girl ’Cause I know where I’m going and where I’ve been And that’s a road I won’t take again