SEVENTEEN

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🌷Ana🌷

(Trigger warning: themes of eating disorders).

I pull on my black, sparkly dress, having fished it out of my wardrobe earlier today. I haven't worn it in years and the second it slots into place, I remember why.

"Oh, shit!"

My boobs have never had this much freedom in a dress before and while I admit they look fantastic; I really can't see myself wearing it out knowing Nan and Helen will be there. I grab my phone to text Nic when I realise what I've just done. I slowly lift my gaze towards the mirror and repeat my previous thought.

My boobs look fantastic.

I just said something positive about myself and no condescending voice appeared in the back of my mind to drag me down.

"Nic!"

"Hey."

I decide to Facetime her.

"Is this dress inappropriate?" I ask, angling the phone away from my face.

"Wow!" she responds, giggling. "Hello Ana's boobs."

I join her in laughing.

"You look fantastic! You should definitely wear it."

"Yeah?"

She nods.

"Okay, I will," I tell her, positioning the camera at my face again. "Is everything okay?"

She's nervously chewing her bottom lip and although I'm not there with her, I can sense something is up.

"I'm worried about tonight," she admits.

"Why?"

She picks up her eye shadow brush and proceeds to sweep it along her eyelid. "The meal. I hate eating in front of people."

I immediately stop fighting on with my shoes to offer her my full attention.

"That's okay," I reassure. "What part do you hate?"

"All of it," she replies. "I don't eat much, and I always feel bad sending most of my food back when I'm done. People always stare. It's like the second we start eating, I'm triggered. The anxiety is crippling sometimes."

'Have you told Sloan?"

Nic shakes her head. "I don't want to bring it up. She's got enough going on."

I respect Nic's need to keep this from Sloan on this occasion, but I don't like that she feels pressured into doing something that's clearly bringing her great distress. Especially since Sloan would hate the thought of her doing so.

"I sometimes get strange symptoms."

"Like what?" I ask.

"My tongue tingles after I eat."

I nod.

"And I get pins and needles in my arms and legs."

"Nic, that sounds like a panic attack."

She nods.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"Enough that I avoid eating when I'm in public."

I know for a fact her class schedule is insane, so that must mean she goes for long periods of time without eating.

"Are you relapsing, Nic?"

I don't know a huge deal about her eating disorder, but I know enough about them through my job to spot the signs of a relapse.

"No, I don't think so. I haven't made myself sick in over a year."

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