“Again, Adele!”
“Higher! If you didn’t eat that, you’d get a better jump!”
“What was that? Can you not bend further because of the extra padding?”
On and on it went until one day I’d broken down after practice. I’d waited until all the girls left before I realized what I needed to do. So, when I got home, I threw out all the junk food, got rid of anything that wasn’t appropriate for my diet, and…stopped eating altogether. When my father looked, I was nibbling here and there to disregard any growing suspicion he might have had. That was when I discovered purging.
The anxiety medication might have helped more than I gave it credit for, but there was no medication from the level of self-hate a person had for themselves. There wasn’t a pill to swallow to make people love themselves. No injection could make self-worth higher than self-consciousness on a whim. It would always be a fight for me to eat without sticking a finger down my throat or finding new methods of starving myself when nobody was looking. There were always going to be days when I wished my weight was as low as my self-esteem.
But I was better.
Be better.
Those words were a chant in my head, a soft-spoken demand that was not pointed at me, but one I took as a sign that I needed to listen.
“Be better,” my mother had said.
It was about two hours into the party when I stumbled toward the little kitchen downstairs off the main room and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Ren was flirting with Ben, Rita was hanging around a frat boy who looked new to the scene, so I stayed in the corner and tried sobering up.
After about ten minutes, the water was gone, and I was tired of watching everybody couple up. Throwing the bottle into the recyclables, I pushed away from the wall on slightly unsteady feet and started walking toward Lawrence until an arm hooked around my waist from behind.
Nearly falling from the jerked motion, I groaned. “Jase, I’m not—”
“Not Jase.” A pair of hot lips found the back of my neck, making me lock up. My elbow instinctively jabbed the unknown person who was giving me unwanted attention but he barely budged. “Relax, babe. I’m just playing around. You looked lonely.”
I managed to turn, glaring at the idiot who smelled like cheap beer and even cheaper perfume of whoever he was mauling last. It shouldn’t have surprised me to see Evan Wallace there, grinning at me half-baked like the stoner he was. “Seriously, Evan?”
“What? Lawrence is busy so I figured I’d keep you company.” He hated Ren and I didn’t know why, but worse, he disliked me. I barely knew him but his actions toward me since we first met had been nothing but annoying. He’d made comments, catcalled, and tried getting me to go to his attic loft with him. It didn’t matter how many people told him to stop, Evan was determined to do what he wanted, and it gave me a bad feeling every time.
“I don’t want you to,” I stated firmly.
“Aw, don’t be like that, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.” How many times had I told him that? It was impossible to tell at that point, that was how many.
His arm went back to my waist, hooking it around me and tugging me into his chest. The smell coming from his breath was nauseating, so I held my breath. It didn’t help that I felt off, tired, draggy, and realized I’d drank too much to be wandering about. “You always play hard to get. We both know you’re not with McKinley even if you’ve fooled others into believing it.”
“That doesn’t mean I want you.” Shoving him away with what little energy I had, he stumbled into a group of girls who all complained when beer spilled onto the hardwood. It wouldn’t be the worst thing the floors had seen. I was sure of it.
The water might not have helped all that much because my legs felt funny, but Evan’s persistence was definitely doing something to keep me hyperaware if not semi-sober. Blinking back the heaviness of my eyes, I backed up and made my way toward Lawrence.
Except he disappeared.
“Shit,” I grumbled, wincing at myself. I normally didn’t swear unless my filter was off. That usually only happened when I was pissed, tired, impatient, or a little of all three. I guessed drunk could be added to that list.
Rita saddled up beside me. “He and Ben went upstairs. Said something about fresh air, but I think we both know that’s a lie.”
I rubbed my temples. “Doesn’t that bother you?” I loved Lawrence, but he didn’t care if the people he chased were with somebody else. If he was interested, he went for it. Shameless flirting usually led to more with him if he set his sights on somebody. It was sort of impressive how bold he was, even if I didn’t agree with his tactic.
Rita shrugged. “Ben and I were having fun, but I think he was using me as a beard because of his dad. His family is old school if you know what I mean.” Ben’s family wasn’t one I knew, but it was upsetting if that was the case. I didn’t know many people who were against that kind of relationship, but I wasn’t naïve to think they didn’t exist. Ren’s parents played dumb, but I was almost positive they knew of their son’s interests and just chose not to intervene.
“That sucks.”
“What about you? Not strung out for your best friend. He’s cute. You’d make an adorable couple, and unlike Ben, it looks like Lawrence swings both ways.”
Instantly, my head shook. It was instinctive at that point because I’d had the conversations plenty of times. “That won’t be happening in this lifetime. We’re just friends. Although, I’d be tempted to question that
