Never Enough

The intervention

I feel every pair of eyes in the classroom look back and stare at me as I sit there in disbelief.
I probably look ridiculous, with my eyes wide with fear and my hands clenched into fists under the table, my knuckles turning white.

Before I can further embarrass myself, I force myself to stand up. I can hardly support the weight on my feet as I make myself walk down the aisle of what feels like endless desks.

When I finally make it to the front of the classroom my sweaty hands glide on the doorknob as I turn it before entering the hallway.

My throat tightens as my breath quickens and my heart beat begins to accelerate. Theresa's annoying ass definitely snitched on me.

I pull open the door to the guidance counselor's office desperate to get it over with, my mind scrambling to find an excuse for what I was doing.

"Hey Emma!" I hear a voice chirp. It's Ms.Miller, the guidance counselor. I've seen her many times around the school, but never actually talked to her. She's sitting on a blue bean bag with her hands folded on her lap.

"Why am I here?" I say nervously, desperate to get to the point.

"Why don't you take a seat?" She motions to the blue bean bag across from her and sits up straighter.

I crouch down and sit on the bean bag, unable to get comfortable because of how much I'm shaking.

Ms.Miller smiles and looks up at me. "So how are you?" She asks casually as if we are all just here as friends.

"Fine," I mumble, fiddling with a loose thread on my shoelace.

"You haven't been worrying about anything lately at all?"

"No." I want to kill Theresa.

"So listen Emma," she says, leaning forward from her seat. "A student said they were a bit concerned about you because of a little incident that happened in the bathroom."

I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised I didn't catch a glimpse at my fucking brain. "Well I mean nobody knows how to mind their business so tell Theresa I'm fine and thank you for her concern," I say getting up.

Ms.Miller grabs my wrist and gently motions for me to sit back down. I do, but not before rolling my eyes once more. "Why were you throwing up in the bathroom?" She asks slowly.

"Because I was sick!" I say, bringing out my hands.

Ms.Miller takes a deep breath before speaking again. "How do you feel about eating?"

My eyes get low as I blankly stare back at her at her dumbass question. "What? I have to eat I'm alive that's how I live," I say plainly.

Ms.Miller chuckles. "Well obviously Emma but what I meant was do you ever associate eating with a negative feeling?"

This time it's my turn to take a deep breathe. "I know what you are thinking and I am not anorexic if that's what you're trying to hint at," I say, forcing a smile on my face.

Ms.Miller looks at me quietly and I can tell I took her by surprise. "Well why do you say that?"

I roll my eyes for the hundredth time. "Why else would Theresa be so concerned about me puking in the bathroom?"

"I don't know the why I invited you here; I want to figure that out," she says smiling.

I give her a blank stare then look away from her. Why does the department of education always have to pretend they really care about students?

"Look Emma all I'm saying is that I'm here if you ever need anything. Have you done this before?"

"No!" I say too quickly and loud, only making my guilt more obvious.

Ms.Miller gets up and walks towards a small mini fridge under her desk. She opens the door and pulls out a small container of yogurt. "Want one?" she asks.

She thinks she's so fucking clever. She's trying to test me. "Yes actually I would," I say smiling slyly.

She reaches down I hand me a yogurt before sitting back down in front of me and begins eating her own.

I feel my heartbeat quicken as I peel off the aluminum wrapper on the top. I'll just eat the whole thing so I don't get in trouble and I'll work out to get rid of the calories and sugar later.

Ms.Miller watches me intently as I dip a plastic spoon into the vanilla cream.

I shovel spoonfuls into my mouth and force myself to swallow the thick sugary cream. With every bite I can't help but feel anxious about how it'll contribute to my weight. I'm so close to losing 10 more pounds and this is going to fuck it up.

Ms.Miller finishes her yogurt and tosses it into a tiny waste basket not too far from her bean bag.

After taking one last spoonful I hand her my empty yogurt cup and force a smile. "Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome Emma; how did that make you feel?"

I try not to sigh too loudly as I hold back my true feelings towards her. "Not bad," I say shifting my feet. I'm about to ask to go to the bathroom with a "my hands are sticky" excuse but then I realize what she is doing. She's waiting for me to leave so she can know if I'm puking everything I eat. What a clever manipulative bitch.

"Do you need anything?" She asks.

"No," I say calmly thinking that she's referring to the bathroom. I hate her.

"Well then," she says. "You can return back to class," she says smiling.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. That was it? Before she can change her mind I jump up from the bean bag and leave the room, practically running to my next class.

***
I open the front door to my house and run up the stairs. I never got rid of the cupcake in the stomach from fear that Ms.Miller would be hiding in the bathroom ready to catch my sinful act.

Just as I reach the top of the stairs my mother catches me by surprise as she open that door from her room. "Mom!" I say in surprise. "You're home early"

She ignored my greeting and looks down at my stomach as I feel it twist into knots. "Emma we need to talk," she says sternly.