I'm Not Hungry

Sixteen

I wake up feeling like someone stepped on my throat for two reasons.

One, I threw up last night. Two, I'm actually hungry. I blame Jax and the two bitches he calls sisters. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't feel hungry.

After laying in my bed for a few minutes, just listening to my stomach rumble, I decide to call my old friend Mandy.

"Hey, hey, this is Mandy. I make it, you fake it. What can I do for you?" she greets.

"Hey, Mandy-"

"Oh, Ella!" Mandy cuts me off. "What a pleasant surprise! Why, you used to be a regular. What do you need?"

"I need cigarettes," I bluntly tell her.

"Oh, still using my tips, I see. Good idea," she congratulates me. She got me into all of this, and she'll get me out.

Flashback start

"I can make you a fake I.D.. It's my job, actually," Mandy says.

"Alright," I allow.

"And you might not want to eat lunch today," Mandy instructs me.

"Why?" I ask. "They're supposed to be serving a bunch of stuff from around the whole world at school today. That's the only reason I was going to go to school."

"Well, you're just a bit thick around the waist, if you know what I mean," she whispered to me as if she was letting me in on some major secret. "Come here." Mandy led me to a mirror. "Look, I can fit my hands around my waist." She demonstrated. Then, she tried it on my waist. She couldn't get her fingers to touch. She then pulled her bright orange shirt up and outlined every single one of her ribs. She lifted my shirt up and you couldn't find my ribs. "I can pinch my collarbones." She did it. She didn't even try, but looked solemnly at where mine should've been and it was only flat. "And, I can fit my pointer finger and my thumb around my wrist."

Mandy demonstrated for the last time and tried it on me. She couldn't. Again.

Maybe I am fat. I turned to the side and looked at myself. I am fat.

"Still hungry?" she asked, looking at me in pity.

I looked at myself, long and hard. "No," I answered honestly.

Flashback over

"Come at noon and I'll have it ready," Mandy says.

I hang up the phone and look at the clock. 8:27.

If I leave in half an hour I'll have enough time to drive down.

I quickly throw on a black tank top and some yellow skinny jeans. Time to be Ella again. There are two reasons why I don't wear tank tops to school. One, I have scars. Two, I have a tattoo. It's on the top of my left breast and it's a picture of a beer bottle. Yes, I was the typical party girl last year.

I slip on some black wedges and five band bracelets, then go to the bathroom for makeup. I put on some bold red lipstick, black mascara and a tiny diamond stud on my nose. I look back at the clock again. 8:45. Might as well get an early start. I walk down the stairs being extra careful because of my heels.

As I walk through the living room I nearly have a heart attack. Jax is on my couch staring at me as if he's never seen me before. What is he doing in my house?

My eyes widen and I open my mouth to say something but he beats me to it. "Why...do you look like...that?" he asks.

I always look like this. What on earth is he- "Oh, shit! Um-I-um...party! That's it. I'm-I'm going to a party."