Read Online The Disappearing Girl by Heather Topham Wood - Free Book Online Page B

continued and I was unable to get off of the toilet. There would be no possible way I’d make my presentation at nine-thirty; it was ten percent of my grade in Press History, and I was already struggling in the course.
    I was in the bathroom for over an hour. My roommates would be getting up soon and I felt humiliated about the stench emanating from the bathroom. Despite spraying half a can of air freshener, the area still remained toxic. Slinking out of the bathroom, I rushed into my room and gently shut the door. If I pretended to be invisible, I wouldn’t have to face my roommates.
    As I collapsed on the bed, I came to the conclusion I didn’t care that much about my Press History grade. Nothing else mattered in my quest to be skinny.
     
    “Christ, Kayla, you look so small! How much weight have you lost?”
    Brittany stood in my doorway while I dressed for my date with Cameron. I had on a camisole and black pants and was browsing through my closet trying to choose a shirt. Brittany scrutinized my body, her eyes narrowed, and I could see her trying to calculate how much weight I’d dropped over the past few weeks.
    “I don’t know,” I said nonchalantly, “maybe ten pounds.”
    The accurate number was nineteen pounds. I weighed myself religiously at the same time each morning and again before bed at night. During winter break, I’d been one hundred forty-five pounds. That morning the scale had displayed one hundred twenty-six. In only six weeks, I’d dropped three dress sizes.
    “What kind of diet are you doing? I barely see you eat anything at all.”
    I was flustered. I had tried to hide the shameful things I was doing to become skinny. I always ate alone in my room, and I only binged and purged when my roommates weren’t around. I had tried to simply eat five hundred calories a day to keep up with my weight loss. Yet, after a day or two, my stomach would twist in protest and I found myself craving the food I’d been denying myself. I couldn’t stop eating until I greedily consumed enough junk food that my belly felt close to explosion. As I vomited the food into the toilet, I would finally feel a stillness inside me. I hated passing the mirror as I exited the bathroom, my cheeks flushed and my eyes red-rimmed, the evidence of how I was powerless against food plain on my face.
    “I told you about my resolution,” I said. “I’m really trying to watch what I eat. I’m not following a set diet.” I continued the exploration of my closet, praying Brittany would stop her line of questioning.
    As I dug a red sweater out of the closet, Brittany snorted with distaste. “You’re not seriously thinking about wearing that, are you? It’s a date, not another day for you to bum around in your hideous sweaters.”
    Elbowing me out of the way, she reached in for a white top with the tags still attached. “Wear one of the shirts I bought you for your birthday.”
    “It’s see-through,” I pointed out. It was a sheer white lace top with a floral design stitched into the fabric.
    Brittany rolled her eyes. “You don’t wear it without anything underneath, you’d be arrested. Keep on the black camisole you’re wearing. I’d change into a skirt, too, but since you dress like a nun, I’m guessing you’ll stick with the black pants.”
    Assuming she’d harass me until I submitted, I put on the top. I shifted uneasily, hating how much my body was on display. Gazing into the full-length mirror on the wall, I criticized every bulge visible. The only thing I saw in my reflection was how horribly fat I appeared. This was what my life had become inside of my mind. The mantra of fat, fat, fat on constant replay.
    “I look awful,” I protested.
    “Are you on drugs, Kayla? Cameron’s tongue is going to fall out of his mouth when he sees you.” Chewing on her thumb thoughtfully, she added, “You better wear your sexiest pair of underwear, too.”
    “I’m not sleeping with him tonight. It’s our first date.”