One more day

chapter 35

Nicks POV

She was falling apart in my arms. I kept telling her how proud I was of her while I stroked her hair, but it didn't help put any of the pieces back together. It's like offering glue to a little kid who just broke their teddy bear, but they're too distraught to do anything about it. I feel helpless and a piece of me breaks watching her tear herself apart over this. I was so fucking proud of her, I couldn't imagine how long she spent convincing herself that something like this was criminal to herself, so to undo all of that and change her thought patterns around food, well I knew it wouldn't be easy. On the brighter side, she's made the first step. And I tell her that. I realise maybe I should shut my mouth up and just hold her, she's always loved company. Her mum knows something is up with her, she interrogated me about it earlier when I helped her with the doughnuts.

- Flashback -

"So," she drawled out. "You and Julia?" She questioned with a playful glance.
"Nothing going on there Jo. Just attending to my best friend duties." I said playfully. There could never be something between us, our friendship is too valuable to mix in romance. We both know that, and I think we both wish it wasn't like that.

"Alright if you say so, Nick." She said. "I am really worried about her though." She starts. "She's been different lately. At first, I thought it was because you left, but then you returned and you've been closer than ever with her and she still worries me. What's going on with her?"

"It's not my place Jo," I say simply. "She's struggling, but she'll get through it. I'm trying to get her to talk to you about it." I add comfortingly.

- End flashback -

I was hoping her family would've caught on but they hadn't. I'm surprised honestly, it's hard to not notice how sick she looks. We stay on the floor for a good 20 minutes and she's no longer crying, just staring at the wall. I have a feeling she won't be having any more doughnuts. "I'm going to shower." She states, completely blank. No tone of anything in her voice, or her face, like she's numb. I nod.
"Do you need anything?" I ask, hoping I can do something to help take this weight off of her shoulders because it is killing me to see her like this. She shakes her head and walks out into her bathroom.

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Julia's pov

I'm a mess. I inspect myself in the mirror, and I hate what I see. This experience is no different from every other time I look in the mirror. Sometimes I think I should get rid of every mirror in this house in hopes that if I don't get reminded of the way I look, then I won't worry so much about how people see me. I zone in on my stomach, which is fatter than before. I know that's just what happens, I've just eaten so of course it's going to expand, but I hate it like this when there's food in it. It makes me look fat. I hate looking fat. It's everything I've been working not to be. My voices are fighting again, I know I've made a first step, a good one, and I'm proud of myself for that, 4 months ago if you told me I ate half a doughnut I would've called you delusional, but here I am. And while half of me is proud, the other half, looking back at me in the mirror, is disappointed. I tear my eyes away from the mirror and turn the cold nob in my shower. Ice cold showers. I brace myself and step in tense, letting it engulf me. I leave no time to allow my body to adjust to the temperature and work on washing myself. I scrub and I scrub and I scrub, and with each harsh scrub of the soapy loofah on my skin, I hope I can scrub away the disappointment, the guilt and the shame. I keep telling myself kind words, in hopes that if I tell myself enough I'll eventually believe them. They're so much more believable coming from Nick. I step out of the shower and wrap the towel around me, with a single realisation dawning on me; I didn't bring any clothes in with me. I dwell on my options, I can try and instruct Nick to find the particular clothes I'm after, or I can suck it up and go out and get them myself. I decide the easier option is the second one, I'm just not looking forward to how exposed I'm going to be in just my towel. what if he realises I'm not as skinny as he thinks I am? What if he hates what he sees? I wrap myself up as best I can and brace myself to walk out. I turn the door handle and immediately meet his eyes, they don't stray from mine and I'm grateful, but also very very nervous.