Holding Me Back

Chapter 5

Nothing's really been the same ever since I've spilled my secrets to Kyle. He gives me these weird glances every time I throw out my sandwich or only eat a tiny portion of my lunch. Avoiding him is just as easy as it would be to talk to him. I choose the avoiding path, shoving him in the dark. Even though I know I shouldn't it's just a whole lot easier to shut him out of my life. He shouldn't take it personally, no one really knows who I actually am. I've agreed to have a sleepover with Riley at her house tonight, and against my will, she drags me into a Sephora. The instant smell of make-up and perfume hits me once we take one step inside.

"Ugh. It's smells like desperation, hope, and happiness in here. It's disgusting," I roll my eyes as Riley lifts up every bottle of bronzer.

"Oh, calm down," Riley laughs at me, "I only need a few minutes. Spare me some time. Please?"

"Yes, whatever," I give her a slight pat on the back.

Once we leave (finally!!) we go back to her house, and Riley spreads out various movies over a coffee table in front of us. The choices all date back from mainly the 80's some choices being Stand by Me, Youngblood, The Breakfast Club, The Outsiders, 16 Candles, and many others. We might not be born in the 80's, but those movies appeal to us more than any others. We're maybe halfway though Youngblood when I feel a hunger pain coming upon me.

"I'm hungry, can we order a pizza?" Riley asks me, stealing the words from my lips.

"Sure, get a plain pizza. I hope your brothers come home on time, I can barely eat one piece," My lip curls upwards a little on the left side.

"Great, I'll order that and some garlic knots," Riley says as she reaches for the phone.

I see Dean Youngblood (in the movie) hit the hockey puck, each flying off his stick with great velocity. Flying into the goal, one by one. They show this part in slow-mo, and I wish that my life could slow down a bit, so that I could enjoy everything. Well, everything that I have to enjoy which is very little. I hate maybe ten times more things than I genuinely enjoy. 

When the door rings, we both race to the door, a side effect from hunger. To be honest, Riley's hunger. I'm not all that hungry, nothing new.  Riley pumps her fists in the air to her delight when she sees that the pizza delivery guy is here. The heavy wooden door swings open when Riley undoes the lock. The pizza delivery guys rattles off our short order, and from under his cap, I can't see his face. When he looks up for the money and to hand us our pizza, the moonlight shines over his face.

"Er, uh, that'll be, uh, $13.76," He scratches his head and looks down again at his sneakers.

"Oh, hey Kyle! I didn't know you worked at the pizzeria!" Riley chirps loudly, being her usual peppy self.

I grunt a little, look down at my feet, and scratch my head a little. So much for not making a scene Riley.

"Um, hi Riley. Hi Christine," Kyle still makes minimal eye contact with us, "Don't ask why I'm working here, my dad wanted me to get a job."

Riley hands him the money and the tip and I can feel heat rising into my face. Just as Riley's closing the door, Kyle just has to make that extra comment. Typical Kyle. 

"Christine.... don't forget to eat some of that pizza," Kyle tips his cap in our direction and hops off the stairs that lead to Riley's front door.

I don't know if he said that because of contempt, scorn, or just a friendly tip, but it makes my blood boil.

"That jerk," I murmur under my breath, just quiet enough for Riley not to hear.

I nibble on my slice of pizza, barely making a dent in the pie. Nothing out of the ordinary. Riley eats almost 3 slices, and I hate how she's one of those people who can eat all they want and gain basically no weight.  When I'm changing into my PJ's I hide away from Riley as much as I can, even though she knows I'm anorexic. I can feel my bones poking through my shirt very slightly, and my 3-inches-below-my-shoulder length hair isn't enough to cover it up. Not that I care, it's no secret to Riley, or anyone who actually has a brain. I can feel Riley staring at my back, the bones sticking out in unlikely places that are likely for an anorexic person like me. After shooting her a dangerous glare, she adverts her eyes around the room and bites her lip. I throw on a sweatshirt for now, just to avoid all the stares and such. We're scrolling through Netflix silently and Riley just feels the need to put in her input.

"Kyle likes you, ya know," Riley states flatly.

"Pfffft, why would you say that?"

"I'm saying that because do you see the way he looks at you? His eyes glimmer and he has a different smile on his face when he sees you rather when he sees anyone else. It's obvious!" Riley waves her hands in the air.

"Even if he does, which he doesn't, I'm NOT asking him out. Remember my "boyfriend" a few years ago?" I shudder at the memory.

It was this cute kid named Nick who was athletic, funny, and nice. We both secretly liked each other, and only we knew and a select few others. He was not on my level. He's tier 1 popular and I don't know, maybe I'm tier 1 and 1/2 popular. I really liked him and then a few years later he stopped liking me. Stopped texting me or snapchatting me. Then the secret hit me, he told me in a gentle, caring way, but it still hurt. A lot. That didn't help my depression, but I'm over him now at least. For the most part, I can avoid him. For the most part.

"That was a few years ago Christine. Maybe he'll be different," Riley picks at a cuticle.

"I don't know, but I'm not making the first move," I say.

"That's fine with me," Riley chuckles.

When I thought the whole scenario over again, was it true? Did Kyle secretly like me? I mean, he does actually smile at me. Not one of those cheap fake ones, but a real one. I've seen it and it's like a surprise party. But he can't, right? After getting that through my head, which takes a while cause of the obsessive part of my OCD, Riley and I watch some more 80's movies. You can thank her for getting me into that obsession.