Page 32 of The Comeback Summer

“Hmm?” Hannah says, looking up.

“The app,” I remind her. “You have to download it and log in.”

“Oh yeah,” Hannah says. “I did that this morning. We’ll be fine; the meeting’s going to be great.”

I stand up and give my shirt a subtle stretch so it’s not so clingy. “Easy for you to say. I don’t have anything to show for my progress yet.Ow.” I wince at the pain in my side from turning too fast.

“Nothing to show, eh?” Hannah smiles like a proud trainer. “Those burning muscles beg to differ.”

I sigh and try to do one of the stretches Hannah said was supposed to help, but it just makes the pain more pronounced.

My sister planned a different exercise for us every day—interval training with jogging and walking, planks and push-ups. Hannah keeps reminding me to be patient, that we’re taking baby steps—and that’s exactly how I feel. Like a baby.

Every single one of the activities has been a struggle. The other day I was mortified when a five-year-old boy watched us “deadhang” (seriously, could they find a better name for that?!) on the monkey bars at our neighborhood playground. We were supposed to go for thirty seconds; I barely made it ten. After I picked myself up off the woodchip-covered ground, the kid did his own deadhang, smirking at me until after we left to walk home.

Another day, Hannah made us dunk our hands in an ice bath for two minutes before squeezing a stress ball for thirty seconds. My finger bones are still cold just thinking about it. It was pure torture, but she says it’s important to practice our grip strength this way, because we’ll be wet and freezing through most of the Down & Dirty.Yay?

“The lady of the hour has arrived,” Scott announces through the intercom system.

“Let’s do this,” Hannah says, and I follow her, one painful step at a time.

•••

LOU LOOKS ASglamorous as always. Her blond hair is so shiny it’s like it was literally spun from gold, and she’s wearing pinkeverywhere, from her lipstick down to her peep-toe heels. She clearly has a signature style, and it makes me wonder whathercomfort zone is—if it’s an over-the-top walk-in closet or whatever chichi salon pampers and plucks her to perfection.

I wince as I take my seat next to Hannah, and Lou gives me a knowing smile. Normally, I’d be embarrassed—sitting shouldn’t be that hard—but hopefully my proof of pain will make up for my barely filled-out journal.

Lou claps her hands like a teacher calling the room to attention. “All right, ladies,” she says. “Let’s see what y’all have done.”

I show her the training schedule that “I” put together, and Lou seems impressed. We can’t let her know that Hannah is the one who actually did it, but we do tell her Hannah has been joining me on my workouts, and that she’s going to be on my Down & Dirty team, along with Great Scott and an old “friend” of Hannah’s from college.

Part of me wants to let it slip that Josh is an old flame in hopes that Lou will forbid Hannah from seeing him in the spirit of the challenge, but Hannah would murder me (and she knows the most painful ways to do it), so I keep my mouth shut.

“This is music to my ears,” Lou says. “And I love that you’re doing it with your sister. Crushing your comfort zone works better when you have the support and encouragement of loved ones.”

“I definitely have that,” I tell her.

“It’s too bad you can’t help your sister with her dates!” Lou says, winking.

Beside me, Hannah gulps, and I kick her under the table.

“No way,” I say. “The dates are all Hannah.”

Lou’s eyebrows arch, and I wonder how high they would go if she knew that we aren’t exactly “walking her walk.”

“Which dating app did you settle on?” she asks Hannah.

“One+One,” Hannah says, pulling the app up on her phone. She slides it across the table to Lou, who flips through the screens, muttering the occasional “ooh” and “lovely” as she goes.

Hannah’s cheeks are flushed; she’s leaning so far back into the chair it’s like she’s trying to become one with the fabric. And me? I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, proud of the work of art that is my sister’s dating profile.

I crafted the entire story: picking out which questions to answer, writing the responses, styling and shooting every one of the gorgeous pictures.

“This profile really captures you,” Lou says to Hannah, and I bite my lip to stop myself from taking credit.

“Libby took the photos,” Hannah tells her.

“You two,” Lou says, her voice dripping with praise. “Just the kind of partnership I want working on my team. Your grandmother would be so proud.”

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