Holding Me Back

Chapter 1

I was always self-conscious and a little insecure. It was just the way I was. My dad always told me that I need to 'discover my true potential' and blah blah blah, but I was just fine the way I was. To be honest, fine was a far stretch as to how I was actually feeling, and if I was truly being candid with you, I was the exact opposite of fine. I felt like I was falling down a dark pit of misery that could never find it's way to the bottom of happiness. You know that feeling of when you get a test back and you're all "I aced it!" and then the test has a big red number on it, telling you that you failed? That's my life story about how I feel. It was 5:30 AM when I woke up, the sky still dark, dotted with some purple pink clouds of the upcoming sunrise, and if only my life could be that pretty. I sighed and began to shuffle through my closet to find my sweatpants, a t-shirt, and my swim parka. After a hurried change into my bathing suit, clothes, and getting my swim bag ready, I was almost out of the house unnoticed. Almost.

"Christine, why are you up so early?" My dad asked me groggily, rubbing his eyes, his hair matted and messed up.

"I was going to the pool to swim," I replied, a little bit scared to see his reply.

"You have swim team later today, why do you need to swim right now?" My dad piles the questions on me, even though he knows that I do this practically every morning.

"Well, I really want to make Junior Olympics again this year, so I need to practice really hard," I say, but my dad still has questions to ask me.

"Well, have you eaten breakfast at least?" My dad knows I'm anorexic, and he thinks that I'm actually getting better. I'm not.

"Um, yea. I had a uh, yogurt," I lie and bite my lip, hoping that I can leave without having to chomp down a breakfast bar or something.

"Okay, if you say so. Be safe," My dad lets me leave finally and kisses the top of my head before trudging back up the stairs to sleep.

Phew. Being anorexic doesn't mean that I can't eat, it just means that I don't want to. I get to the pool and peel off my clothes, leaving just my swim suit. After flipping on my cap and goggles, I submerse myself into the cool water and immediately spring off the wall, and begin my warm-up. Swimming is one way for me to clear my mind and let go of all my struggles and worries. My feet graze the surface as they move at a steady tempo, kicking me through the water. At an early hour like this, only one other person is here, but he leaves my alone, doing his own thing while I do mine. And I'm glad that there aren't many people, because when there are, I get a lot of stares when I climb out of the pool. Being an athlete, means I'm very strong and muscular, which looks odd to some people on top of my anorexic body. I begin my backstroke, pulling my arms how my coach tells us to. It's like you're in a box, you can't move. I take steady breaths and three strokes at the flags before turning over onto my stomach to do a flip turn. When I swim, I don't think, it makes me feel sorta normal. When I reach my breaststroke, I pull, shoot, kick, and glide to the certain rhythm of the song I've been playing inside of my head. My butterfly is my best stroke, but also my least favorite. It just somehow happens to work that way with my kind of luck. I swing my arms over my head and breathe. Two kicks. One pull. Two kicks. One pull. Breathe. It goes like that for the rest of my warm up. I finish up a few sets and work-outs when it's time to leave. When I get to the showers, I rinse out all the chlorine, or at least most of it, and then I dry off and change into my school clothes. My skinny jeans, rolled to be capris, a t-shirt from a softball tournament, and my swim warm-up jacket in case it's a little cold. After piling my copper brown hair into a ponytail, I go back home.

Now that I'm not swimming, I go back to thinking, and back to being my normal self. I get home and smell the bacon and waffle aroma wafting throughout the house. One of the many aromas that don't seem to appeal to me anymore. My younger sister is sitting at the kitchen table, shoving the food in her mouth, smiling, being happy. Nicole seems to have a perfect life compared to me. If only I could have the real grin that she has upon her face, and although she doesn't really understand what I'm going through, she tries to make me feel better, and that cheers me up. Not much, but a little.

"Oh, Christine! You're back! Do you want some waffles, bacon, anything?" My mom asks me as she slides food onto a plate.

It's like it's her job to make me eat. She doesn't understand that I'd rather not, I know she tries, but she needs to give it a rest sometimes. Plus, my dad's at work now, so no one is here to cover for me.

"No thanks," A frown curls on my mom's face, "I already ate breakfast before I swam," I lie to her as well.

"Are you sure? You don't want to eat after swimming hard?" She tries again.

"Mom, I'm fine," I lie again, and go upstairs to get my backpack.

After Nicole finishes up her breakfast, my mom pushes us into the car, so that she can drive us to school. On the way, Nicole and mom are always chatting about something new, or the same thing they talked about yesterday. It doesn't really bug me, Nicole is the daughter my mom always dreamed of. Perfect in every way. As for looks, Nicole has dirty-blonde colored hair and striking blue eyes that compliment her flawless vanilla skin. And as for personality, Nicole has a great sense of humor, sarcastic in the right way, compassionate, and athletic. Nicole is practically God's "I'm sorry" gift to my mom because she had me as well. I'm zoning out now, looking out the window at the clear blue sky. Why is everything so perfect around me?

"Christine! Your sister's leaving and had something to tell you," My mom snaps at me, and motions to her car parked in front of the middle school.

"Love you, bye!" Nicole chirps at me.

"Bye," I reply and smile.

My mom and I don't converse the rest of the ride, and to make sure she doesn't being up my anorexia or depression, I turn up the radio. The only other time we talk is when we say goodbye. She always says the same thing to me: "Love you Christine! Make healthy choices!". As if that will stop me from being anorexic or depressed. I put up the strong barriers that everyone sees, because no one knows what's actually going on with Christine Roberts. They just think she's a perfect nice girl with a carefree personality. If I showed who I really was, I'm almost the opposite. I get to my locker and begin to do the combination when I see Riley pop up in front of me. Her hair is in a high ponytail on top of her head, and her eyes are shimmering with hope. Riley's my best friend, and the only person at this school who knows my dark twisted secrets. Sure she's a cheerleader who always looks on the bright side, but somehow we're best friends. 

"Christine!!" Riley exclaims, the wide smile that's always on her face is wider than usual. 

"Hello," I plaster the fake grin onto my face, "What's up?"

"Have you seen the new kid? His name is Kyle and he's absolutely adorbs!" Riley trills happily.

"Really?" I try being a supportive friend, "You already have a boyfriend though," I point out.

"I know, he's not for me, he's for you!" Riley tries being matchmaker again.

"Fine," I groan, "Let's see who this Kyle guy is," I reply as she drags me to Kyle.

Okay, let's be fair. Kyle isn't hideous. His eyes are a grey-blue color and his hair is caramel color. I can tell by his shirt that he's an athlete. Then his grin catches my eye.

"Cute, right?" Riley says.

"Um, yea I guess," I'm trying to study that smile though.

I know fake smiles when I see it. There's one on my face every day. And by one glance at Kyle's smile, something's up. Something is not right about his smile at all, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it.

I don't see Kyle at all in my morning classes. No where to get another glimpse at his grin. At lunchtime, I'm picking at my food and pushing it around.The fake smile on my face is hidden right now, by the usual frown. "Make healthy choices!" My mom's voice echoes in my head. Riley is too busy kissing her boyfriend to notice me, which I'm totally fine with going under the radar for now. I take 5 nibbles from my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, one bite of my apple, and chuck it all in the garbage, along with the other things my mom packed me. I rest my elbow on the table, and then my head on my hand. I see Kyle get up to throw out his lunch, and I see him walk out of the cafeteria. This is my chance. I follow him to his locker, and make sure that no one else is there when  confront him.

"No where to hide that smile anymore," I say in almost a whisper, and wipe my fake grin off of of my face, and I see Kyle's smile falter a little when he sees me leaning against the locker near him.