Une Fleure Fanée

Week 6 Part 5 (Thursday)

     The alarm goes off on my phone. I feel strangely energized. Probably because I went to bed at like 8:00, which means I got, like, nine hours of sleep, opposed to the usual five to seven. Two to four hours of sleep does a lot.

     I put on some dancewear, a black sports bra and orchid shorts, both of which sadly do not cover my fat body. The sports bra looks so fat on you, Lilliana. Couldn't you have picked something else? Too late, I'm already running late. I do my skincare, hair, makeup, and the useless meds. 100 calories. You don't deserve food, Lilliana. You don't deserve any of it. You're lucky the boot camp said 100 calories.

     "Lilly, take an Ensure, we're running late!" Mom yells from the bathroom.

     Just my luck. I can fake drink an Ensure. Simple. I hurriedly open the cap and pretend to chug it. Mom luckily sees my chugging it and gives me the evil eye. She doesn't like the risk of me choking. Little does she know, I'm just a little damaged dancer pretending to drink a protein shake but faking so I can be skinny and pretty.

     Good girl Lilliana. You avoided breakfast. You can eat dinner and maybe some carrots. Instead of being disgusted by the urges, I'm starting to relearn the habit of being excited whenever the urges call me, "Good girl." When I was little, and sick, I never got used to the urges calling me, "Good girl," but I got a little excited whenever the urges called me by that. A wave of wrong goes through me, but I brush it off. What I'm doing isn't wrong. It's right.

     I meet up with GiaNina and we walk to the Dragon. We're carpooling with Savannah and Mrs. Kristich today. I get a window seat, and Savannah is crushed in the middle. Savannah and Gia start talking about Jersey Shore. I'm too young to watch Jersey Shore, so I look out the window. We normally don't get snow in Fayetteville, and seeing the snow melt along the medians of the roads is sad.

     "The producers are gonna give us catering today. Now, I'm not supposed to tell you, but it's Red Robin," Ms. Kristich reveals to us.

      I pretend to be excited, but all I feel is terror. You can't eat the Red Robin, Lilliana. You can't eat fast food. It will make you fat. In my family, Red Robin is a sit-down fast food restaurant. It's fast food. Fast food is not allowed. My foot starts bouncing in anxiety. Burgers are gonna be hard to cover up. I couldn't just put it in my bag and throw it up later. Somebody will notice me doing it.

     I'm not allowed to eat fast food, but if I throw it up, and then burn off the extra calories tonight, everything will work itself out. God, tonight is going to be hell. I remember my normal order of Red Robin: kid's cheeseburger with fries and a Sprite. Mom probably put my order to the producers, so I'm probably going to get that.

     Red Robin kid's cheeseburger is 350. Luckily, the window isn't very reflective, so they won't be able to tell what I'm searching. The kid's cheeseburger alone is 3.5 times more than I'm allowed to have. The kid's fries is 220. The Sprite I can probably fake.

     Just seeing those numbers makes me shake. I can cut the calories down to 175 and 110 calories when I throw it up. If I don't have dinner, I only have to burn 185 calories. But I'm not allowed to have fast food. I hate myself so much.

     I take a deep breath, making sure my anxiety and fear is oblivious to Ms. Kristich, Gia, and Savannah, and look back out the window until we get to the studio. I have to dance really hard today to burn off extra calories. I shouldn't eat fast food. I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.

     As we walk into the studio, my anxiety is sky high. Sarah has her solo practice first, and I have boring school work to do nothing to calm my mind. Fast food makes you fat, Lilliana. It literally says it in the name. Fast-s= fat. That's what you are. I nearly have a meltdown in the reception room.