Free Socially Awkward by Stephanie Haddad Page A

extraordinaire.
     
    Well, it didn’t say the part about being a trainer extraordinaire—obviously. I added that part myself when I read the name in my head. All the same, there was his dimpled profile picture, smiling back at me from the screen of my iPad. I knew I was blushing and it needed to stop before Dr. Chase noticed. I took a deep breath, paid attention to her lecture long enough to get the basic idea, and then turned back to Noah’s profile.
     
    He’d sent me a note along with the friend request: “Thought I could keep an eye on you online. Don’t worry… my policy of trainer confidentiality is still good on the internet.” And then he added a little winking smiley face at the end of it. No signature or anything, as though we were the kind of friends that ne eded no formalities to stand between them.
     
    My head spun at the thought. Because, up until about five minutes before then, I hadn’t even known that Noah and I were friends at all.
     
    “All right, Jennifer?” Dr. Chase’s voice cut into my thoughts, sending the room spinning around me. I forced my eyes to focus on her.
     
    “Fine, Dr. C,” I offered a weak smile, embarrassed that the rest of the class was now staring at me. Lyla squinted at me from across the classroom, trying to show some concern. I gave her the tiniest shake of my head that I could manage.
     
    As Dr. Chase resumed her lecture, the attention shifted from me back to note-taking for most of the other students. Struck by an idea, however, I couldn’t quite jump into the lecture just yet. Instead, I accepted Noah’s request and sent a light-hearted message back to him: “Are you sure you know me? There are about a thousand Jennifer Smiths out there, you know.”  I added my own winking smiley so he would know I was kidding and not panic and unfriend me. How awkward would that be?
     
    Meanwhile, the lecture had shifted into a discussion again, something about human rights in today’s world or something. I hoped Dr. Chase would just leave me out of this one, since my brain felt a lot like Jell-O right now and couldn’t be trusted to spit out any reliable information whatsoever.
     
    Besides, my final project had absolutely zero to do with human rights anyway.
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    A month into my Master’s project and three weeks into my exercise plan, I was starting to hit my stride. Olivia had racked up a total of 353 friends in that short span of time. And I had lost almost 10 pounds. Things were moving along well, all in the right direction for a change.
     
    I was almost suspicious.
     
    But it felt too good to be so busy and so successful all at the same time, so I decided to just keep going and not think about it. I’d been visiting Tom’s Workout World three times a week, doing yoga DVDs on alternating days in my tiny living room, and eating a strict diet of Green Light foods. Sometimes I snuck a Yellow Light food in there, but not often. The number going down, down, down on the scale was too thrilling to let a Yellow or Red Light food binge ruin things.  I was actually choosing to ignore the vending machines on campus, navigating straight to the salad bar in the cafeteria, and passing up on the carb-loaded dinners my mother kept trying to force-feed me. Claire was helping with that part, too, since my mother is a special breed of stubborn.
     
    Of course, I leave that part out as I recap the story for my mother, who is hanging on my every word at this point.
     
    And as far as the internet thing was concerned, I had to admit my alter-ego was helping me stay away from junk food. I guess I just needed something to keep my brain and hands occupied. I’ d been reading a lot of articles about social networking, media and technology, and modern communication on Google Scholar, loading up my iPad with links and notes, and trying out new ways to connect with people.
     
    Olivia joined some groups too. One for horseback riders, one for lovers of French cuisine,