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Authors: Heather Topham Wood

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BOOK: The Disappearing Girl
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Each meal was carefully planned out in my head. I took my meals alone, blowing off invitations to join Brittany, Danielle, or Jessica for lunch or dinner. Instead, I ate alone in my room, taking small bites, trying to make the tiny amounts of food last as long as possible. I could make a slice of bread last as long as a three-course meal.

My first week of classes was hazy. The low amount of calories I was consuming affected my concentration, and I found myself rereading portions of my texts several times until I was finally able to grasp things. My writing assignments lacked finesse, and I had to do heavy revisions to get my work up to par.

However, my reward for the strict diet was the number on the scale. I purchased a scale from a local pharmacy and weighed myself every morning without a stitch of clothing on. By Friday, I’d lost four more pounds. It was all the motivation I needed to keep up with my eating pattern.

“Bella!” a voice called as I searched the bookstore for a supplemental text I needed for a desktop publishing class I was taking. “Hey Bella!” The voice sounded closer and more insistent. I spun toward the source and found myself face to face with Cameron.

Cameron’s expression was inscrutable. “Bella Swan, right?”

A blond girl standing next to me browsing the bookshelves looked at Cameron, then at me, and started chuckling. She shook her head in disbelief and disappeared down the next aisle.

“I’m guessing you read my credit card application,” I said. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear nervously. I had mixed feelings about seeing him again, as thrilled as I was apprehensive.

“Sorry, I was curious.” He leaned closer to me. “I didn’t lift your number off of it though; I’m not a total creeper.”

My heart pounded as he moved into my personal space. He was wearing a blue shirt and it brought out the vibrant color of his eyes. His scent reached me, and I had the sudden urge to move closer to him and deeply breathe in his clean, masculine smell.

“That’s not my name,” I said and I turned back to face the wall of textbooks.

“Ah,” he said, “You put a fake name on the application.”

“I told you I didn’t want another credit card,” I reminded him. “Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I figured you would’ve recognized the name I used.”

“Maybe I should ask you to return the t-shirt and mug then.”

I turned to him and was again disarmed by the dazzling smile he was giving me. He was putting me at ease, and I liked the sensation. “Sure, you can take back your cheap, oversized t-shirt and dollar-store mug.”

He laughed. “How about you keep them, as long as you give me your real name?”

“Deal,” I replied. “It’s Kayla.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cameron chided. “So what year are you?”

“I’m a junior.” I found the book I was looking for and removed it from the shelf. As I faced Cameron, I tapped my foot to release my nervous energy. “Today is your last day working here, right?”

It was something of a relief to know he would no longer be in the Student Center. I wasn’t certain about how to process the unexpected attraction I felt toward him. My mind had a hard time believing Cameron would be flirting with me.

“Yes, then on to harass more students at other campuses into signing up for credit cards.” He shrugged. “It’s a crap job, but the best I could get since I graduated last year.”

My curiosity was piqued. “Where did you graduate from?”

“I have a business degree from Rutgers. My goal is to have my own business one day, but this gig pays the bills in the meantime.” He fell in step next to me as I walked toward the register. “What’s your major?”

“Journalism. I’m not sure what type of company I want to work for yet, but I’m hoping to line up an internship for the summer.”

Cameron waited next to me as I paid for my book. When I went toward the exit, I remarked, “Shouldn’t you be manning your table?”

He looked nonplussed. “I’m taking a break.” He took a sip from the water bottle he was holding, drawing attention to his lips. It had been months since I’d been kissed, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on mine. His lips appeared soft and inviting, and I imagined him to be an expert kisser.

He caught me watching him and I glanced away. I mumbled, “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“I only live five minutes from here. Would you want to get together sometime?”

Yes
, a part of me screamed. Why wouldn’t I want to go out with someone undeniably gorgeous, who also seemed interested in me? Yet my fears made me hesitate, and I stood in front of him silently. I didn’t feel worthy of anyone’s attention. I was fat and plain, and I suspected that instead of being truly attracted to me, Cameron had an ulterior motive. At times like that, it sucked being inside my head.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” I said, without meeting his eyes.

“Oh, okay.” I thought I heard defeat in his tone. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”

When I made eye contact with him again, I could see in his expression he wasn’t sure how to reply to that statement. After a second’s pause, he suggested, “We could get together casually, hang out as friends if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Umm…” I awkwardly said. I didn’t know how to respond to his persistence. Was he not used to being turned down? It wouldn’t surprise me; girls didn’t say no to guys like Cameron. I considered his ego might be bruised since I wasn’t champing at the bit to go out with him.

He pulled a business card from his back pocket and held it out before I could finish replying. “This has my cell phone number on it. If you want, give me a call sometime. No pressure.”

My fingers brushed his when I removed the card from his outstretched hand. I tucked it into my purse. I stared at his shoes and hoped for the growing awkwardness to pass.

“It was good to meet you, Kayla.” His tone was soft and intimate. “I hope you’ll give me a call.”

“Bye Cameron,” I said.

With hesitation, he walked back toward his stand. I studied him and saw several girls’ heads turn as he maneuvered across the building’s atrium. His strides were purposeful, and he didn’t seem to notice the attention he garnered. I envied his confidence.

After only two brief meetings, Cameron left a lasting impression upon me. I liked him, but my emotions were too raw. It felt like all of my feelings were being amplified, and if I experienced heartache, it would cut me too deeply. It was safer not to take the risk.

Chapter Five

By the next week, I’d lost a total of eleven pounds. My clothing was getting looser and my features appeared leaner. My cheekbones were more pronounced and my chin more defined. I had hoped the weight loss would chase away the melancholy inside me. My expectations were if I was leaner, I’d suddenly feel comfortable in my own skin. I wondered if I would ever be happy inside my own body.

My dieting was extreme and left me with little energy most days. I found myself sleeping longer and was glad for the respite. The longer I was unconscious, the less time I had to focus on food. During my waking hours, it was all I could think about. I could feel my attention fading in class while I planned what I’d be permitted to eat for that particular day.

At night, I longed for the binge eating of Christmas break. But scarfing down a lot of food and vomiting proved difficult while living in close quarters with three other girls. The communal atmosphere of our dorm meant we had our doors open most of the time. It made it challenging to sneakily consume copious amounts of food and then vomit it back up. When my roommates were scarce, I was able to make an exception to my own rule.

Brittany grew impatient with me one night and coerced me into going to dinner with her. My excuses for bowing out of dinner were getting weaker, and she stood her ground until I finally relented. Under her watchful eyes, I couldn’t have my typical meal of either plain vegetables or fruit. Since Brittany was twenty-one, her new favorite place to eat was The Court. It was the only restaurant on campus to serve beer. The menu was made up of mostly fried foods.

Once we settled in, Brittany ordered a Miller Lite, and I opted for a Diet Coke, Brittany started. “I can’t wait until your birthday. Only ten days away!”

The plan was to go bar hopping with Brittany, Jessica, and Danielle. Brittany was good friends with several guys in one of the campus fraternities and had also invited them along. I would’ve been looking forward to a night out if I hadn’t been obsessing over how many calories were in alcoholic drinks. I had come to the conclusion that a rum and Diet Coke would be my best bet for the night, since it only had a hundred calories per serving.

“I’m excited, too,” I said, and I took a sip of my soda after the waiter put it down in front of me. After mentally debating the menu items, I decided on a grilled chicken sandwich. Jealousy flooded me as Brittany proceeded to order mozzarella sticks and a cheeseburger.

“So, what’s been going on with you?” she asked me. “I feel like I barely see you anymore.”

It was true. I hadn’t realized how much my relationships revolved around food. Without attending meals together and with her hectic student teaching schedule, I only spent time with Brittany late at night in our dorms.

“I’ve been busy with classes and homework. I’ve also had a lot of online articles to hand in this week.”

I wrote articles for several different websites to make extra money. The pay was decent and I could work in my pajamas in front of my laptop. My father’s life insurance policy had allowed us to live comfortably after his death, but I preferred to have my own spending money handy without being forced to rely on my mother for handouts. My mother had quit college after two years, and I couldn’t remember her working a day in her life. Turning Lila and me into her perfect little clones was too taxing for her to do anything else.

“Oh, okay,” she said. “I was worried you were mad at me or something. I’ve felt like you’re blowing me off lately.”

“No! I’m sorry; I haven’t meant to flake out on you.”

“You’re forgiven.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, have you called that guy yet?”

In a moment of weakness, I went to Brittany for advice. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Cameron since he gave me his card. Several times, I’d even pulled it out and tried to talk myself into calling him. When I told her how much I’d been attracted to him during our two brief meetings, she insisted I make a move. I understood Brittany’s insistence: Since my father’s death, I hadn’t expressed any interest in a guy.

“No, even if I could get up the nerve to call him, I’m not sure what I would say once I did talk to him,” I admitted.

“Kayla, you have to snap out of this
woe is me
phase you’re in. If he gave you his number, he obviously likes you and wants to talk to you.” The waiter came to the table and set the mozzarella sticks down. “You’ve been a downer ever since you got back from break. Don’t let your mom mess with your head.” Brittany picked up a mozzarella stick and shook it at me to emphasize her point.

I thought being away from my mom would make me feel more at ease, but I couldn’t shake the oppressive mood that had plagued me since after Christmas. The normal things that brought me happiness—late-night movies with Brittany, Skyping with Lila, even my writing—no longer had any effect on me. It was as if I had somehow died inside and was numb to the world. Cameron was the exception, and the idea of relying on a stranger to feel
something
was terrifying.

“I’ll think about calling him,” I conceded after Brittany glared at me.

She nodded, satisfied for the time being. “I wish I had a new hottie to drool over. I’m so bored with campus guys. It’s like the same old, same old. And they have the attention span of gnats! They want you in and out of their beds within the hour and don’t even want your number at the end of the night. I’m hoping to meet someone new when we go out for your birthday next weekend.”

Brittany’s endless chatter about the lack of eligible men on campus was soothing. It allowed me to momentarily forget about my own problems. When the waiter placed our entrees in front of us, I stared at the chicken sandwich and fries with dread.

“Kayla, you’re looking at that chicken sandwich like it’s still clucking.” Brittany’s eyes shrewdly scanned me from head to toe. “How much weight have you lost anyway? You look like a total babe, but I don’t want you taking this dieting thing too far.”

“I’m trying to eat better, that’s all,” I said lightly. I didn’t mind the part of her calling me a total babe, but the rest of her remarks forced me to pretend I wasn’t going overboard with my diet. The chicken sandwich felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as I compelled myself to lift it to my mouth. I was in agony as I forced down a bite. I gave Brittany a tight smile once I swallowed.

“I never see you eat and I know your mom loves to bitch about your weight. You don’t need the Charlotte Marlowe seal of approval; she has to learn how to accept you as you are.” Brittany pointed to my chest. “You’re drowning in that sweater and I remember it fitting fine last semester. You have to be careful about losing too much weight that quickly.”

“I’m fine. My New Year’s resolution was to try and be healthier,” I lied. To prove my point, I took another bite of the sandwich. It was tasteless, and the only thing I could think about was how I was going to get rid of those calories later. “Why don’t we go work out after this?”

Brittany’s look was disbelieving. “We never work out. We don’t even run to class when we’re late.”

“It’ll be good for us. We could bond again over exercise.” Brittany still didn’t look convinced. “Plus, there could be hot guys working out at the gym.”

“All right, you sold me on the idea. But there’d better be a lot of cute asses for me to gawk at.”

 

I amped up the resistance on the exercise bike and drove the pedals down. After dinner, Brittany and I had changed into our workout clothes and headed to the campus gym. The fitness center had treadmills, stationary bikes, elliptical machines, weight benches, and free weights. It wasn’t a high-tech gym, but access was free with our tuition.

BOOK: The Disappearing Girl
6.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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