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the soft dough and gently mix them in. When Mom isn’t looking, I pop some chips into my mouth.
    I watch the spoonfuls of warm batter spread into shapes in the oven. Oh no! They look like blobs. I snap the oven door shut.
    Soon a sweet chocolaty smell fills the kitchen, and I pull the cookies out to cool.
    â€œYou’re being very strong about this,” says Mom.
    â€œI’m determined to lose weight, and nothing will stop me. Not even chocolatechip cookies.”
    â€œI’m sure one cookie won’t spoil your diet,” says Mom.
    â€œMom! Don’t tempt me!” I say. “I have to be strict about this diet or it won’t work.”
    â€œI’m sor r y, Eve. I’m on your side. I shouldn’t have suggested the cookie.”
    Why am I annoyed with my mother? She bought a whole fridge-full of fruit and vegetables to help me. She didn’t force me to eat a quarter of a chocolate bar or the handful of chips. Maybe all the fruit and vegetables are making me insane! I need more protein, but I can’t have that till day five of my diet.
    After a supper of cooked carrots (no butter), steamed potatoes (no butter), spinach (no butter), lettuce and tomato salad (no dressing), I head to my room to work on my math homework. Ms. Murray is zipping through the material so quickly my head spins.
    Soon I hear Mom’s book-club friends come in. They comment on the delicious smell lingering through the house.
    â€œIt smells like chocolate perfume in here,” says one of mom’s friends.
    Yes! Chocolate is the best perfume in the world. They should bottle it. Then I could just dab it on my skin and not eat it. But I’d miss eating it. It takes all my willpower not to charge into the kitchen and grab a cookie.
    â€œEve baked the cookies.” I hear Mom tell her friends.
    â€œWhat a lovely girl,” says one of Mom’s friends. “My Zoe never helps out. She does nothing at home but text message her friends.”
    Zoe’s mother is in my mom’s book club! I’m not stepping out of my room till they leave. I do not want to meet Zoe’s mom. What would I say? Your daughter is obnoxious. She humiliates people. I hate her.
    I start working on math. I can only figure out eight of the twelve questions. I stare at the four I can’t figure out, but nothing comes to me. I pull out my chocolate bar. Maybe a little chocolate will help me think better. I take a bite, then another. I figure out one of the four questions. Maybe the chocolate is helping!
    I eat some more. I’ve finished three quarters of the bar, but I’m still no further ahead with the other three math questions.
    I stare at the questions for another twenty minutes and then give up. I’ll ask the teacher tomorrow. I pull out the rest of the chocolate bar and eat the last few pieces as a reward for my efforts.
    I enjoy every rich, melt-in-your-mouth bite, but when I finish I check the wrapper. I have just consumed three hundred and fifty calories. I can feel my gut getting blobbier by the minute.

“I keep trying to lose weight, but it keeps finding me.”
    â€”Author Unknown
    chapter nine
    I meet Carolyn on the way to school. Denise is sick with the flu. We talk about our art projects. Carolyn pulls out her ad for hot dogs to show me. It’s great.
    She has a man walking a dog down the street. A woman watches him while grilling sizzling hot dogs. The woman is grinning. The ad says:
    Enjoy a hot dog today. One dog you don’t have to walk.
    â€œMs. Holmes cracked up when she saw it,” she says.
    I tel l Carolyn the slogan for my chocolate-bar ad.
    â€œFabulous,” she says. “How’s your diet going?”
    â€œNot so fabulous. I got through day one, which was all fruit, and day two, which was all vegetables. Today I can eat a mix of fruit and vegetables, and I’ll be fine. But tomorrow will be hell. Tomorrow I can only eat bananas and drink