The Uncanny Accuracy of Fate

Chapter 20

"I told you, I'm not hungry. It's fine."

I mentally reprimand myself, naïve for thinking that Cami finding her voice would be the end of her problems. We'd gone out to dinner after the show, as a mini-celebration for what Lin joyously called her Ariel moment.

"Ursula finally gave it back, huh?" He asked with mock seriousness, though the tears running down his cheeks as he hugged her gave away his true relief.

Arriving at the restaurant was fine, we got waters for the table. But when the waiter went around taking orders, Cami cheerfully announced that she didn't want anything and placed her menu on the pile. I pulled her aside, into the corner by the bathroom, where we stood now.

"What about a salad? Or a cup of soup?" I'm begging and I know how desperate I must sound, but Cami stands her ground.

"I don't want you to pay for food that gets wasted. Or for it to get wasted at all. Pippa, it's fine." I let out a bit of a laugh at the ridiculousness of that last statement.

"It's not actually. It's not fine because you haven't eaten a full meal in weeks. So don't pull that with me. It's not okay because something's going on and you're hurting and I just want you to talk to me. Please." She takes a step back while I'm talking, but I know this is a lot. I haven't ever been this direct with her and I know this isn't the time or the place but it just slipped out. Cami looks for a second like she's going to say something, and then she brushes past me back to the table, sliding in her seat a couple of seconds before I do. Jasmine glances at the sullen teen beside me and shoots me a sympathetic look.

"No dice?" She asks, quietly enough so Cam can't hear. I shrug and study the place setting in front of me while Jas pats my back encouragingly.

The subway ride back after dinner is quiet. Neither of us feel much like talking, and I can practically hear the gears in Cam's mind whirring as she bites her lip like she always does when she's thinking. We both groan when we see the out-of-order sign on the elevator, but resume silence as we dutifully climb the stairs to the 5th floor. Back in the apartment, we bustle around each other, familiar enough with our nighttime routine that words aren't needed.

"I talked to the boys today, and I think we're good to clear out your room tomorrow! You can finally stop sleeping on the couch!"

Cami's deep in thought, and responds a full ten seconds later with an unfocused "Great! Thanks!" I desperately want to ask her what she's thinking about, but I know better than to confront her twice in one night. I consign myself to the knowledge that she'll come to me when she's ready.

At about midnight, I'm lazily scrolling though Instagram, telling myself I'll get up any second now to go say goodnight to Cami. When I glance up, she's standing in my doorway, wearing sweatpants and a too-big Julliard sweatshirt that looks suspiciously familiar.

"Can I talk to you?" Her voice is small but sure, though I see her picking at the skin around her thumbs, a clear sign that she's nervous. I pat the bed beside me, gesturing for her to come in. She perches precariously, then gets up and starts pacing. I'm about to suggest we try again tomorrow when she suddenly speaks.

"I'm not anorexic," she blurts out. I cock an eyebrow but stay silent, assuming there's more to this. "I don't-I don't think I'm fat. It's not like that. That's not..." She trails off, and I decide to step in.

"That's not why you have so much trouble with food?" I'm treading carefully, knowing one misstep could shut her down for a while, but she looks at me with wide eyes and nods. After a couple seconds of silence, I decide to go for it.