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  “Wow, you sure like your beer!” he said, sounding impressed. All this time wondering how to impress guys and all I had to do was down a few gulps of gross-tasting beer. I opened my mouth to see if it still worked and before I could stop it a huge burp flew out. I slapped my hands to my mouth in complete horror. OMG, did I just burp in his face? I just stood there, frozen to the floor as he stared at me for a second. Then he started to laugh and totally shocked me by putting his arm around me.

  “Done like a real man!” he said, still laughing. I put my hands down and let out a feminine chuckle or two, praying to whatever gods watch over teenaged girls that I wouldn’t burp again. Jesse turned to face me and put both arms around me. I felt flattered and nervous even though I was pretty sure he had had a lot more beer than me and was feeling no pain and likely had no idea who I was.

  “You’re kind of cute,” he said, looking down at me through blurry eyes. Maybe it was my eyes that were blurry. I had downed most of that bottle!

  “Thanks. You too,” I finally remembered a few words, although apparently my brain was still not part of the equation. You too? Could I be any lamer?

  “Thanks,” he said, still holding onto me.

  Jesse held me pretty close for someone who had never actually looked at me before. He had his hands around my waist so I sort of slid my arms up and put them around his neck. I didn’t know what to do next. It was really loud in there and the few words we had managed to spew out were kind of yelled. Was I supposed to try to talk to him over the music? I tried to look around surreptitiously at other couples. Some were laughing and talking, others were making out. Oh, hadn’t thought of that. What would I do if he kissed me? Kiss him back? Scream and run?

  Where’s Annie when I need her? Why wasn’t there an instruction book or something? I snuck a peek at Jesse’s face. He looked relaxed and unconcerned and didn’t seem to be revving up for a kiss. He looked down at me.

  “I can’t believe how small you are,” he said. “I could probably span your waist with just my hands!” He laughed as he tried to do it. His fingers didn’t quite make it.

  “Not quite that small.” He laughed again. The moment ended and Jesse gave me a little salute and went off to do other exciting things. He didn’t offer me any more drinks, although a couple of other guys did. I told them no and spent the rest of the night hiding in the shadows and feeling like I wanted to disappear completely, until Time cooperated and my evening finally ended.

  I went home at eleven, as promised. I stood in front of the mirror that night and tried to span my waist with my own hands. Not a chance. Jesse was likely grossed out by my flab, which would explain why he had disappeared for the rest of the night. What could I do? Maybe I should start exercising along with the calorie counting. That might work. What kind of exercises should I do? I wasn’t what you would call a jock. I knew how to do crunches, sort of. I had my bike but I could only ride it during the daytime. I didn’t always have time for that. I needed something I could do at night. Maybe I should try running or something. We had a treadmill that no one ever used down in the basement. Maybe Devon would take some time and help me get started. Maybe I should take a few minutes and call Devon just to say hi or maybe go online and see if anyone else was up for a chat. They’d all be totally wondering how things went.

  I needed to exercise more than I needed to chat, though. I could always catch up with the girls later. I started right then, forcing myself to do about a hundred crunches even though I was really, really tired. If this was going to be my nightly routine, I might as well get used to it. When I finally got to bed, though, sleep was a long time in coming.

  As I started to drift off, I wondered what to tell Annie about the party. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t understand how I felt about it.

  As I fell asleep, I thought about how some words just belong together. Fat and ugly. Thin and beautiful.

  No one ever says fat and beautiful.

  April 12

  I only see my mother on visitors’ day once a week and every time she comes she looks all worried but tries to hide behind this big fake smile that makes her look like she belongs in a horror movie. She asks me how I feel and if I am I eating. I smile sweetly and tell her yes and she looks relieved for a moment. Maybe if I can get her to really believe me, she’ll spring me from this place.

  But the truth is, I’m not going to start eating all of this crap they’re trying to force on me. No one gets it. I can’t be fat again. Ever! I couldn’t bear it. I can’t go back there. Everyone staring at me, judging me. Every time I eat something in public, everyone watching me, thinking to themselves that I shouldn’t be eating it, that I deserved to be fat. Thinking I’m weak and stupid.

  I can’t do it. I can’t eat just to please my mother, or Annie, or the Redheaded Menace. I can’t do it. It’s not safe. I can’t let the calories into my body. They’ll stay there and turn into fat cells that I can’t get rid of. If I get fat again, I’ll lose myself and never find myself again. The only way to stop that from happening is to keep the food away. No one understands that. They think I’m being stubborn or hurtful or stupid or something. I’m just doing what I have to do. I’m just keeping myself safe.

  There are only three people who get it. Three friends who deserve better than to be dumped by me – even though it wasn’t my fault. Three friends who might think I don’t want to be part of the group any more. Friends who might think I’ve gone back to the shadows. Friends who no one really knows anything about, not even Annie. Especially not Annie.

  I don’t know, maybe Wolf or Marina would understand. I’ve seen them both around a bit but neither of them has really tried to talk to me. I mean, Marina did come in that one time but that’s it. I guess I wowed her with my friend-repelling skills. And I guess I haven’t tried to talk to them either. Maybe I should. I just don’t know if I can remember how to be social and friendly and all those things they would most likely expect me to be.

  chapter 9

  I felt really weird after the party, like I had stepped into a new version of myself. I didn’t know how to explain that to Annie so I didn’t even try.

  “So?” she said to me that Monday on the way to school.

  “So what?” As if I didn’t know.

  “So, I haven’t talked to you since Friday. You weren’t online all weekend so I finally called. Didn’t Steve tell you?”

  “Oh no, I guess he forgot.” I sent a silent apology to my brother, who had told me that Annie called. I just didn’t want to admit to her that I had deliberately chosen not to call back. I didn’t think she would really be all that sympathetic if I told her I was upset because Jesse thought I was fat. She had already made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to talk to me about my body in any sort of helpful way.

  “So, come on, tell me about the big party.”

  “There isn’t that much to say. It was noisy and it was crowded.”

  “That isn’t a big surprise. It was a party after all. Did you talk to anyone?”

  “Yes, a couple of people.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “Maddie, you talked nonstop about that party all last week. Now that you’ve gone I can’t get two words out of you. What gives?” Annie looked confused. Not that I could blame her. We had always talked about every little thing that happened in our lives, especially when it came to boys.

  “Nothing. It was just a dumb party with dumber people all trying to be cool.” Including me, but I wasn’t going to admit that to her.

  “Oh. Did Jesse talk to you?”

  “A little.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. He didn’t want to talk to me again and that was it. Listen, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  I knew I was being really unreasonable but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I had spent all weekend worrying about my huge waistline and surfing the Internet trying to find exercises that would take care of it and then staying up late tr
ying to do all of the exercises at once. I had ignored the girls when they came online to talk to me about it and I felt guilty about ignoring everyone, but I didn’t know what to say because I couldn’t even explain to myself why I felt so bad. I was tired, confused, and cranky.

  “OK. Um. Did you get your math assignment done?” Annie tried to change the subject. She looked a little pissed herself but she was more polite than I was and didn’t say anything.

  “Some of it. I told you I had a busy weekend!” I snapped. I hadn’t told her any such thing. Annie looked at me and closed her mouth and kept it closed for the rest of the walk to school. It was the quietest walk I can ever remember us having.

  I got in trouble during math for not having my stupid assignment done and was trying not to scream by the time I walked into the cafeteria for lunch. I didn’t actually eat lunch anymore but I liked to sit in there and drink a Diet Coke and catch up on the latest gossip with Annie and the girls. Only that day, I wasn’t so sure if Annie and I were actually talking after the way I acted on the way to school. I had avoided talking to the others all weekend and still didn’t really want to try to explain how crappy the party ended up being, but at the same time I wanted to be with my friends. I hadn’t even asked Devon about the running thing yet. I looked towards their table and Annie gave me a smile so I figured we were OK. Maybe no one would ask about the party. Maybe Annie already told them I was being a nutcase about it. As I headed over, I was stopped by a tug on my sleeve.

  “Hi! We figured you’d want to sit with us today.” Suzanne Albright had me by the arm and was gesturing towards her table full of cool people, kind of the way I imagine the Queen of England once welcomed knights to her ceremonial feasts.

  I’d like to think I hesitated here, torn between my real friends and my brand new I-don’t-know-what-to-call-her, but I didn’t. I didn’t even cast a second glance in their direction.

  “Sure!” I said brightly, forgetting that I was in a bad mood.

  “So, did you like the party? We saw you talking with Dreamy Jesse!” Suzanne smiled knowingly at the other girls at the table.

  “The party was awesome!” I said, with wonderfully feigned enthusiasm. At the time, I didn’t think of it as feigned. I thought I was being honest. What a crock. Speaking of being honest, I hoped she hadn’t seen me chugging back part of Jesse’s beer after my big announcement about not drinking.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Dreamy Guy?” one of the other girls asked. She reminded me of Keisha from camp, with her shining black hair, designer clothes, and flawless makeup.

  “Nothing much. Just talking,” I said in what I thought was a casual tone.

  “There’s no such thing as just talking with a guy like him,” Suzanne said to all of her subjects, who nodded at her wisdom as subjects should. “If he spent time with you at the party, he must like you.”

  “Well, I didn’t see him the rest of the night.” I tried not to wince at the memory and self-consciously wrapped my arms around my enemy, the waist.

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Some guys like to take it slow. You know, play hard to get.” More wisdom and more nodding. They all looked a little like those bobble-head dolls people stick in their car windows. The thought gave me a wild urge to laugh, which I fought down. The rest of the kingdom seemed to take my silence as agreement and jumped into a major conversation, during which they managed to verbally rip apart pretty much everyone who had been at the party, but wasn’t at the table, into tiny little pieces. Clothes, hair, and relationships, both real and imagined, were all laid out for everyone to review and then tossed to the floor.

  I was kind of glad I was at the table. I could only imagine what they’d be saying about me if I was across the room at my usual spot beside Annie. As I thought it, I glanced over to see what she was doing. She seemed to be having a great chat with Ruth and Devon. They were laughing, but probably not at someone else’s expense.

  “Marty doesn’t really drink, do you?” Suzanne was saying. I jumped at the sound of my name, startled that they had apparently moved on to talking about people who were actually sitting there. You really had to stay awake around this bunch! “How many calories did you say were in a beer?”

  “Oh, I can’t remember exactly. Around two hundred, I think.”

  “Marty is still on a diet,” Suzanne said in a voice that you would normally use when announcing that someone had won an Emmy.

  “I guess so.” Obviously I had to be still dieting. Couldn’t they see me?

  “Cool. It must feel good to get so slim.”

  “Um, yeah, it does, I guess.” This time the nods were of approval. They still looked like bobble heads but it felt kind of good to have everyone look at me that way.

  “Anyway, Marty, you look great.” Suzanne stood up, gathering up her things. How was it that she couldn’t remember my actual name but she could remember to say the wrong one every single time? Most of the bobble heads scrambled to their feet, madly packing up their things so they wouldn’t be left behind.

  “I have to head to the little girls’ room to fix my face. Want to come?” She looked at me expectantly. I knew I was expected to go and borrow her lipstick or something, but I had to get my homework done.

  “Oh, I know what that’s like,” Suzanne said when I told her. “See you later.”

  She and her entourage paraded out of the cafeteria. I looked over to Annie’s table but she was gone. I looked at my watch. About half an hour left. Not nearly enough time.

  I’d always been a good student. Marks were important to me. Annie always laughed at me and told me to chill out about life, but I couldn’t. I had to see those red A’s on my papers. But recently, I had been having more and more trouble getting my work done. I kept feeling like I was falling asleep when I was working. I was having more and more trouble concentrating in class. I wondered if I was coming down with something.

  The dumbest thing happened that afternoon. I was sitting in English class, listening to Mr. Timmons babble on about verbs or something equally enchanting. I started kind of daydreaming about more interesting things and all of a sudden I could feel someone shaking me and I could hear everyone laughing. The stupid teacher was calling me Sleeping Beauty and telling me to wake up. It took me almost a full minute to realize that I had actually fallen asleep in class … really asleep, as in REM state and dreams and probably snoring!

  I didn’t know why I was so tired. I wasn’t really going to bed that late but I wasn’t sleeping all that well, I guess. My stomach hurt sometimes. I couldn’t tell my mother because I didn’t want her to send me back to Dr. Doom again. He’d likely tell me I needed brain surgery or something because I was turning stupid along with turning fat. Stupid, fat, and ugly … sounds like a band name.

  April 15

  I was sitting and trying to write my so-called memoirs, which is what I am expected to do during my “personal goal” time, when I heard a voice from the door of my room.

  “Hi.” That’s what the voice said. It was this really nice voice, all smooth like hot chocolate with whipped cream, but it scared me so much that my laptop slipped off my lap and dropped right onto the floor. I looked at it like an idiot for a minute, as if I couldn’t figure out how it got down there. The owner of the voice ran across the room and picked it up. He turned it around a few times, examining it, I guess, to see if I had actually smashed it out of commission or not.

  “It looks OK,” he said, smiling and handing it back to me. He was probably laughing at me more than smiling and thinking that I was a total dweeb. Which was, of course, accurate. As usual, I lost my ability to speak and I stared at him with what I am sure was a completely brain-dead expression on my face. He kept smiling, or likely silently snickering, and sat down beside me on the bed.

  “I’m Pieter,” he said, his voice dripping chocolate. I do love chocolate, even though I only eat it in my dreams where it has no calories.

  “Oh, I thought you were Wolf,” I said, simultaneo
usly surprised that I had managed to speak and mortified by what I had said. Now he would know I’d been talking about him!

  “Most people call me that. Some people call me other things. My real name is Pieter, though.”

  “I like Wolf,” I stammered back, trying to smile sweetly but probably looking like a demented clown. I tried to surreptitiously check my chin for drool.

  “Thanks. Me too.” He stood looking at me, his eyebrows raised up in a kind of question. He was obviously waiting for me to say something. Oh. Right. My name. What was it again? I couldn’t remember it at all in that instant. I thought hard and came up with it a second later.

  “Maddie.” It kind of flew out of my mouth. I tried to sneak a look at his cheek to check for spit.

  “Suits you.” Was that a compliment? I wasn’t sure but it kind of sounded like one! Now what was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to compliment him too? Should I tell him Wolf suits him? No, that would be stupid. Man, I wish I knew what to say to people – I mean, male people.

  “You settling in OK?” he asked, saving me from certain embarrassment.

  “Um, yeah, well, sort of, I guess.” He didn’t seem put off by my total lack of social skills but nodded as if I had actually said something intelligent.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said, which startled me because I didn’t think I meant anything at all. “This place can take some getting used to.”

  “Yes, it can. I don’t think I’m used to it at all yet.” Wow, a whole sentence. Go, Maddie!

  “Maybe they don’t want us to get too used to it. They don’t want us here long enough to feel comfortable or anything. They would rather have us as outpatients than guests.” The last sentence was said in a perfect imitation of the head counselor babe. I laughed. That is what they called us. Guests. Like we wanted to be there because it was so lovely to visit. As if we hadn’t been dragged here kicking and screaming by our parents.

  “Really? I kind of thought they got us in here and kept us here for life. Have you been a guest long?” I put the same twist on the word as he had. He laughed a little too.