Saving Evan

Chapter 12

Evan's P.O.V.
I rinsed out my mouth. I was hating living like this; I was having more headaches, and most of my food was coming back up as I as I swallowed it.

My dad was more devoted to my well being, but was too busy to help me. Yvonne worked, and I didn't want to put myself on the Halls.

I walked down the school hallway, not knowing that my help was just around the corner. I ran into something softer than a wall. My books banged onto the floor, making many heads in the hallway swivel towards me.

"Ohmygoodnessohmygoodness!  I'm so sorry!" A red, curly haired woman bent to help me pick up my books. I glanced at a few papers that she had dropped, and noticed that they were about bulimia, anorexia, bullying, and multiple other things. I straightened up, holding my text book and binder under my arm. I looked her over.

She had bright, really bright red hair and extraordinary gray eyes. They seemed to look deep into your mind, and almost glowed. She had a small name tag that read, Brooke Iris: School Counselor. Maybe she was my answer.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I know your name." Ms. Iris had a Canadian  accent. I shook my head.

"I'm Evan Day."

A happy look came on her face. "I wanted to see you! Let's go to my office, alright?"

I nodded, and as we left, I saw Rob staring after me. His eyes said, Are you in trouble? I shook my head and followed Ms. Iris.

We soon reached a small room. It had windows on two sides, and was painted a soothing aqua blue. On the ceiling, it was painted to look like the surface of water when you are under it and looking up. On one wall, a Bible verse was painted in a soft blue. It was Philippians 4:13. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Post-it notes covered one whole wall, but I was too far away to read them. In one corner of the room sat a student's desk and chair, and next to that was a large bookshelf. On the adjoining wall was Ms. Iris's desk. It was a little messy, but was messy in an orderly way. The other two walls had large windows in them and a few pictures between windows. Over all, the room seemed very welcoming.

Ms. Iris sat down behind the desk and motioned for me to take the seat in front of her. She placed her pile of papers on the desk, and brushed a stray piece of curly hair out of her face. Her hair was wild, and was pulled back in a bun. She didn't have pierced ears, and the only jewelry she wore was a small silver locket. She was wearing a light pink shirt with a white scarf and boot-cut jeans. She had an air around her that was kind, but powerful at the same time. I could only assume she was a Christian because of the Bible on her desk.

"So, Evan, a Doctor Halls called saying you needed help with bulimia. I will be more than happy to help you. I have five years of experience and suffered from it myself when I was a teenager." her voice is calm and happy. I run a hand through my hair.

"Yeah. I know that I'm hurting my body, and I just can't stop. It's starting to scare me." I stopped, because I wasn't sure if I should tell her everything. She nodded.

"Go on. It's what I'm here for." she opened up a fresh notebook and started to scribble things down. I sighed and continued.

"It is becoming too easy and whenever I eat now, it comes back up on its' own. I have been having headaches more often, and I've been getting thinner. Too thin." I finished, and Ms. Iris sat, her chin in her hand.

"Well-" she stopped as the dismissal bell rang. I moved to get up but she waved me back down. "What we are doing right now is more important. I have already got in touch with your teachers." She moved a few papers on her desk and pulled out a green folder that had my name on it. I wondered how long Ms. Iris had known. She also handed me the notebook she had been writing in. "This will be your log. You can write down everything you eat for each meal. You can also write down how much exercise you participate in. I will look through it everyday at this time."

I opened the notebook she had given me, and saw that it was grid paper. On almost every page was three large squares labeled breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"Is this all we are going to be doing?" I snapped. I immediately felt sorry for sounding mean. Maybe I needed a little more sugar. Ms. Iris shook her head.

"No. I will be having you spend more time with friends that care about you and listen to you. We will have to check your blood pressure and weight once in awhile, as long as you are okay with that."

I nodded, sighing heavily. I glanced at the Bible on Ms. Iris's desk again. "Are you a Christian?" I had to ask, I wanted to know. If she was, it would make my therapy a lot better and easier.

She nodded, her bun bouncing a little. "Yes. Are you?"

I nodded, running a hand through my hair. I studied my English textbook for a few seconds, and Ms. Iris's voice broke the silence.

"So, we will also be talking. I think us both being Christians will help us. I have to find a little bit more about you, such as how long you have been suffering from bulimia, how you started, and most importantly, who you have as friends here, and what they are like. Okay?" her gray eyes looked deep into my green ones. I avoided her gaze and stared at the floor.

"Evan, I know that this might be hard for you, and-"

I stopped her. "I know. It is hard. I can't stop. I need someone to help me stop, Ms. Iris." I looked back up.

"Please call me Brooke. Yes, I know that it was hard. I struggled with the same thing. So, I don't mean to be pushy, but, can you tell me." She was speaking in a stern but soft voice. I nodded, and started.

"I first discovered how to do it after..." It took a few hours, and past the dismissal from school, to finish my story, and to figure out a daily schedule to control myself. I finally felt as though God had sent a helper into my life.