SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG. I WOULD RECOMMENED QUICKLY REREADING THE LAST CHAPTER TO REMIND YOURSELF OF THE PLOT! x I LOVE YOU ALL!
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"It will only be for a short while, Eva. You can return home as soon as you feel better." I hardly registered what mom was saying.
"I'm not fucking sick." I snarled. She didn't even reprimand me for swearing. Mom just sat there, looking entirely lost. I dug my fingers into my scalp, desperate for pain to convince me that this was actually happening. This couldn't be happening. There had to be some kind of mistake. Mother's weren't allowed to throw you out for no conceivable reason. I mean, I hadn't exactly been the model child but I hadn't been the worst either. I'd never once forgotten her birthday and every sunday I made her breakfast in bed. That had to count for something, right? She couldn't do this to me. Sending me away was one thing but sending me away to a clinic that specialised in Eating Disorders was crossing the line. There was nothing wrong with me. They'd take one look at me once I arrived at the clinic and send me straight back home again. The professionals would regard the fat spilling over the top of my jeans with one disgusted look and throw me out. No one wants you, a niggling feeling in the back of my mind taunted. And for once I didn't even make an attempt to push it away. It was true. I was an unwanted piece of shit.
"Please." I begged. My voice broke; the ever present tears threatening to spill. Mom rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand, as if relieving a headache. I guess that's all I was to her anyway. A nuisance that she could hardly wait to be rid of.
"Eva, you're making this harder than it should be."
"Why is it always my fault? Why isn't it your fault? YOU'RE THE ONE WHO TAUGHT ME THAT BEAUTY WAS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERED. YOU TAUGHT ME THAT NOTHING IS GOOD ENOUGH UNLESS IT'S PERFECT. BUT HOW COULD I BE PERFECT? YOU PUT SO MUCH PRESSURE ON ME. I CRIED FOR HOURS THE DAY I GOT LESS THAN AN A ON MY REPORT CARD. YOU MADE ME THIS WAY. I DIDN'T HAVE A FUCKING CHANCE OF BEING BEAUTIFUL. I'VE NEVER HAD A CHANCE. I'M CHANGING MYSELF THE ONLY WAY I CAN. If I'm skinny then maybe one day I can be perfect." My voice dropped to a whisper.
"Your flight leaves in an hour. I've packed for you. Two months will fly by." I almost laughed.
"I hate you." I spat.
"Have a safe trip." We didn't even make eye contact as I left the room, and left the house. My suitcase rolling along the gravel was the only sound. Neither one of us spoke.
"Mom," I turned at the last moment. The taxi driver glanced up over the top of his newspaper and sighed.
"I'm never coming back."
* * * *
"Excuse me, would you like me to lift the blind so you can see the lovely view?" An air hostess leaned over me so she could get at the window to my right. I shrank back.
"No thank you. I'd rather it be dark." She shot me a puzzled look but didn't breach the topic any further. The darkness was comforting. If I closed my eyes and blocked my ears with my hands I could almost kid myself that I was back at home, in bed, about to fall into a perfect fantasy about Christian Novelli. However, I couldn't shake the reality. This was real. I was going to a place where they would force me to eat every single day. The seat shook slightly as I moved my leg up and down up and down up and down; faster and faster. I could feel my heart thumping against my rib cage.
"Are you ok?" The man behind me queried. I ignored him, taking a sip from a bottle of water and using it to wet my parched lips. Calm down, I ordered myself, trying to regulate my breathing. 1, 2, 3, 4, I counted, as my heartrate slowed and I could see straight again.
"I'm really sorry but I think this is my seat I mean I can always see if I can be moved because I don't want to inconvenience you..." The voiced trailed off and the awkward mumbling came to an end. I glanced up, prepared to battle it out for ownership of this seat.
I froze. The face before me was so familiar. I had spent hour upon hour tracing the contours of this face on my computer screen. I had spent endless days dreaming of running my hands through that soft dark hair and planting kisses on his neck. My hands shook as I brought them up to my mouth.
"Christian." I whispered. I didn't need to repeat myself. I clamped two hands to my chest as my breathing spiralled out of control. Here he was. After all this time I was finally meeting the love of my life. This couldn't be happening. A smile bit at the corners of my mouth; physical evidence of the rush of happiness that I was feeling. Christian Novelli was stood before me; 5 feet 8 inches of complete and utter perfection. He was dressed simply in a collared shirt and a sweater with his feet donning a pair of Toms. His eyes had widened somewhat and he took a hesitant step backwards. I could practically see his mind racing as he sorted through all the possible explanations of how I knew his name.
"It's me, Eva." I squeaked. He chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head slightly. "Sorry...who?" My heart sank. It finally dawned on me that Christian and I were not friends. I was just another fan. He didn't even recognise me. After hundreds of exchanged messages he still had no idea who I was. I struggled to clear my eyes of tears.
"Eva." I repeated. "I'm...just a fan of yours. Just a fan."
"Hi, Eva." Christian smiled wanly asnd shuffled from foot to foot. The seatbelt sign went off. Neither of us moved.
