Socially Awkward Read Online Free PDF

her mental rolodex to place whomever Olivia’s photo had reminded her of . It pleased me to see this, since t hat’s exactly what I’d wanted: t o give people t he feeling that this woman was someone everyone knew or recognized from somewhere. Someone just on the edge of memory.
     
    Of course, it didn’t take long for my genius plan to start back-firing. Because Claire was already in my apartment, working at my desk, she discover ed my secret stash of diet brochures from Dr. Brinkley while I was updating my fake Facebook profile .
     
    She was “straightening up” my make-shift office and I had my back to her, clicking away on my laptop , looking for people to send friend requests to and get this project off the ground. To make it look like I was legit, I posted a bogus status update: “Off to another rehearsal for…” What would Olivia be rehearsing on a random week night? Shakespeare? Simon? Ah, I got it. “Off to another rehearsal for Noises Off!”
     
    Olivia would play the underwear-clad Brooke, a young undiscovered actress with virtually no acting instincts. It struck me that Olivia was perfect for this role and I wondered if that’s where I got the idea for her in the first place. After all, Noises Off was one of my favorite movies. Whatever happened to my copy of that DVD? It had to be around here somewhere.
     
    Anyway, with my status updated, I moved on to my recent notifications and learned that three random people had accepted my friend request, bringing my friend total to a respectable 18 in record time . The new friends included Tom Payone, Duncan Montieff, and some guy named Brent Deeper, who might actually be a porn star with a name like that. His location was listed as Hollywood, CA, so I guess anything’s possible.
     
    “Hey Jen, what the heck is all this?” she asked , flipping through the disheveled stack .
     
    “What the heck is what ?” I tossed the question over my shoulder, my eyes locked on a long list of possible friends for Olivia to have.
     
    “All these brochures and stuff. Yoga for Plus Size Women? Your Slow Metabolism and You? Come on, Jen, where did these come from?”
     
    I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. I should have hidden it better. It had only been a few days since my trip to see Dr. Brinkley, but my new commitment to fitness had ended almost as soon as it had begun. Hence, my cupcake lunch. It was just l ike every other time I’d committed myself to fitness in the past.  If Claire knew about it, there was only one thing that could happen.
     
    “If you’re trying to lose weight, why w on’t you let me help you?” she asked, sounding a bit hurt.  I turned to her then, almost feeling bad about all the times I’d refused her help . And not just earlier that day in my kitchen.  
     
    “I’m not trying, I already told you. My doctor gave me those last week, okay? Just leave it alone.” My voice sounded strained, but I stayed defiant under her pressuring gaze. “Put them back please.”
     
    For a few moments, Claire complied. She stacked the pamphlets back up, positioning the pile carefully on the corner of my desk, without saying a word. I watched her suspiciously as she finished clearing off the desk, dropping pens into the pen holder and dropping all of my unopened mail into its designated basket. She kept her back to me, but even so, I knew she wasn’t going to stop.
     
    Mentally, I counted down from ten. Right on cue, just as my brain thought the word one , she cleared her throat.
    “You know,” she said, with as much nonchalance as she is capable of. “ I was really hoping you could finally help me tackle that quilting project I’ve been putting off…”
     
    “What quilting project?”
     
    “Remember when you were going to show me how to turn all those old t-shirts from high school into a quilt? I have a whole tote full of them in my closet and I need to get rid of them. So I was thinking, maybe if you helped me, since you were