Butcher Katherine - Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Bon Bons to Yoga Pants
Chick Lit

Text copyright 2015 by Katie Cross

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, or incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover designed by Jenny Zemanek with Seedlings Online
Typesetting of print editions by Chris Bell with Atthis Arts LLC
E-book production by Kella Campbell with E-books Done Right

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author. For information regarding permission, send a query to the author at

Published by THHS Publishing.

KOBO EDITION ISBN 978-0-9966249-1-6 VERSION 2.6
Also available in a paperback edition (ISBN 978-0-9966249-0-9)

Visit the author at katiecrosschicklit.com to learn more about The Health and Happiness Society .

To all the Lexies.

Authors Note

B on Bons to Yoga Pants (BBtYP) started out on Wattpad as a serial. I posted twice a week just for fun. It was my author playground if you will, a story that I didnt really have to plot out, but could take in bite-size pieces one chapter at a time. Every Monday and Thursday morning I would sit down, open Wattpad, and start writing whatever I felt needed to come next in Lexies life. About an hour later, Id post the chapter.

For a free-spirited creative like myself, BBtYP became a necessary escape from the outlines and greater editing that come with my fiction works.

Im publishing BBtYP because its a story that gained a lot more traction than I expected, and at a much greater rate. Several loyal Wattpad fans have requested that I offer it in print or as an ebook, and Im only too happy to oblige. Beyond those considerations, I know that Lexie is a story that needs to be told.

Because of BBtYPs unusual origins as an online serial, its something of a different setup. The scenes are more or less complete in themselves and are all about the same size and word count. They all contribute to the greater structure of the story, but also have more of a micro-plot than I would do in my typical fiction. The writing is more raw because I felt the topic and nature of Lexies story deserved the natural state. Except for copy edits to catch mistakes and proofreading to catch even more mistakes, the only real editing that occurred in this story is my own. In that way, Lexie is the most authentic voice I can give you.

Lexie is a girl born out of the depths of my own experiences and past. She is a person I have been, will be, and will always hold close to my heart. More than that, she is every person in some way, whether we are short, tall, thin, or overweight. Lexies journey is more than just weight loss; its coming to terms with who we are fundamentally, and learning that self-worth doesnt depend on jean size, whether we feel we are too big or too small.

Going through this journey with her was freeing, heartbreaking, and incredibly fun. It will remain as one of my favorite experiences as an author, and will always have a special place in my heart.

I hope you enjoy Lexie as much as I have.

Dont miss the second book for free. CLICK HERE.

Chapter 1

An Eternal Question

L ike any great story, it all began with Facebook.

Stupid internet, I muttered, slamming my desk drawer shut, as if that would help my Facebook profile load faster. The internet had an attitude and decided to pretend it was dial-up. The connection had definitely frozen. How am I supposed to stalk Bradley if the internet wont even work?

Behind me came the everyday sounds of my mom getting ready upstairs. Light chitter-chatter, the smell of coffee beans, and a shriek when my younger sister McKenzie realized shed missed a text message from her fianc.

Finally! I cried under my breath, exultant when the eternal rainbow of death stopped spinning and opened my profile page. My eyes immediately zipped to the notification bar, and I felt a little twinge of hope when I saw a red number.

Four notifications.

My heart sped up. It had to be Bradley, my secret online love-crush. It just had to be. With a trembling hand I sent the arrow to the right spot, clicked, and brought up the screen. My heart sank.

The notification wasnt from Bradley. Neither was the message, which was actually from my sister McKenzie, who lived exactly two stories above me and still texted or messaged me when she had a question. The last thing I wanted to read was a message from an annoying twit who flounced her massive engagement ring around. Besides, I already knew what it was going to say.

Hows the diet going? You didnt send me your calorie count yesterday. My July wedding is only six months away, remember?

Fabulous, I would respond. That new calorie counting app you sent me is great. Ill send you my numbers.

Then Id eat another cinnamon roll just because she couldnt see me from my basement lair and send her fake numbers.

I shut the web browser with an angry click, feeling as if Id exacted my vengeance on McKenzie for her prying and Bradley for well, nothing. Yet. He would come through. Id uploaded a new profile picture onto Facebook last night. It had been a good one, albeit older, taken at least a yearor threebefore. The photo was neck up, of course, because otherwise Mom and McKenzie would say something about my lack of weight loss.

Such a pretty face, I heard Mom say in the back of my head. But lets go for a walk and get some exercise, shall we?

Bradley had said he wanted to see a picture of my face, which was fair, because I had already seen plenty of pictures of his beautiful, beautiful face. Chocolate brown hair, hazel eyes, and a killer smile that belonged on the cover of GQ . I shook my head and slipped into a favorite pair of sweat pants. McKenzie would roll her eyes and say, Youre wearing those again?

Today was my lucky day, however, as the door slammed twice within the same minute, leaving me alone in a blissfully quiet house. I threw on my sports bra, pulled on my hoodie, and put my hair into a ponytail. Why get dressed up for an early morning statistics class?

Once I stepped into the kitchen, I drew in a deep breath and then let it all out again with a contented sigh. My haven . How wonderful was the kitchen? So stable, so solid. It never asked me, do you have enough calories left today to eat that second ravioli? Or judged me when I had leftover pizza for breakfast because I was in too much of a hurry for my next class to cook the fat free turkey bacon that McKenzie insisted was healthy.