Maya's POV
"You're really excited about this." I say to Riley who is jumping up and down. Farkle asked her on a date. But to make it less awkward, Lucas and I are going with. I don't want to go. I'll have to eat and if I don't, Lucas will get sick of it. Sick of me. I'm wearing a thick cardigan with a black shirt and leggings. My hair is straight. Riley is wearing a floral dress with a jacket.
"Maya, you try so hard." Says Mr.Matthews, sarcastically when we walk out. He kissed Riley's forehead and says something to her about looking great as I walk to Lucas.
"You dressed up more for Farkle."
"Cause I was a spaz who wore what I had."
"You weren't a spaz." He says. Too late, I've walked to put my shoes on.
Once we are outside, we go to the hot dog stand in the park. We sit down on the bench, while Riley and Farkle are over by the statue.
"You can do it." Says Lucas. I rip of a piece and try not to hesitate when putting it in my mouth. I chew it and he looks forward. When I take another bite, I actually spit it between the hot dog and bun, which is easy to tear off and throw away in the can next to me when he turns to feed the birds. I do that again. I eat a little, and then again because he's trying not to look and make me uncomfortable.
"You did it."
"I did." I lie, with a smile.
"How you feeling."
"Great."
"That's good. Big step."
"Yep."
"Come on, lets go to the statue with them." He takes my hand.
"Lucas?"
"Ya."
"Did you only ask me because Riley was afraid to go in a date alone? It's okay if you did." He turns quickly and grabs my waist, kissing my lips for a moment. Not hard but not a peck. It's perfect.
"Wow." I say. "May I ask how you know so well?"
"Kiss-ups."
"Huh."
"Sit ups for your lips." He sees the look on my face. "I'm joking." He says, laughing and moving his arm back to my hand.
"You had me scared."
"Did I answer your question?"
"Ya."
"Then maybe we should do this again."
"Ya, Maybe." And we do.
On Sunday, he takes me to another park, and on Friday we go to the art museum.
"Your getting better." He says as I take a bite of my licorice while we walk. I point to a dog passing by. When he bends down, I spit it out and shove it in my pocket, bending down so he wont think anything if it. My clothes have remained baggy and everyone thinks I'm getting better. I want to scream that I'm not. I want to stop myself from putting battery's in my clothes and ankle weights on my thighs when Mr.Matthews weighs me. He's never seen my real weight. I want to scream them at him, but when Lucas takes my hand, and pulls me in, I know that wont happen. I like Lucas, but he is the reason. I'm alive, though. So I guess I will keep going like this.
