The Third Year

Chapter 39

Guys...I actually did it. I wrote another chapter! *applause and cheering* Thank you so much for all the support and it's because of y'all that i forced myself to sit and continue this story. I'm not sure how often I will update, but I can say that this story is not finished! I hope you enjoy and I apollogize if something doesn't quite match up with the rest of the story. Remember: I haven't written this story in MONTHS so give me a break :) Please continue reading, voting, and commenting and I will continue writing! God Bless XOXO

Also, I'm not sure why there's random lines between some of the paragraphs and I can't make them go away sooooo yeah sorry :P And there is a flashback in here, but it's not too too gruesome so I'm not putting a warning up or anything.

Chapter 39

Ivy’s POV

Michael and I were silent as we walked up the stairs, heading towards the parking lot. As we walked, I felt my cheeks burning as the sound of my boots filled the silent halls. I glanced over to Michael who had a slight smile on his face like he was trying not to laugh.

Inwardly sighing, I willed my burning cheeks to cool down. In an attempt to distract myself, I took in Michael next to me. How I could see the muscles of his back through his white t-shirt. The way his hair looked after what I assumed to be a very quick shower. My fingers itched at the sight of his tousled hair. I wanted so badly to run my fingers through it and smell the lingering scent of shampoo.

My eyes widened as I jerked my eyes away, silently cursing my myself. Keep it together, Ivy. You’re being stupid, just relax.

I took a deep breath as we finally made it to the end of the hallway. Pushing through the doors, I breathed in the fresh air, trying to cool my nerves.

“So, where do you want to eat?” Michael asked me, pulling out his keys from his back pocket.

“Oh, I don’t care. Wherever.” I said, reaching to pull out my keys too.

“Alright, Chickfila it is!” he said excitedly, making his way over to his truck.

My eyes widened and my palms got sweaty. I could feel my heart beat speeding up and my breathing quicken. Deep breathes, deep breathes. I will NOT have a panic attack.

“Um-m Chickfila?” I asked nervously, my words stuttering as I walked quickly after Michael.

“Yeah, that work?” he asked, throwing his stuff in the truck bed and turning towards me.

I could feel myself physically shaking as I tried to come up with another place to eat.

“Hey, you okay?” I heard Michael ask. He walked towards me, worry etched across his face as I stumbled back a little.

“D-don’t touch me,” I whispered. My bag slipped from my shoulder and fell to the ground as a flash back flooded my mind.

***

Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stared into the full length mirror. I was standing in only my bra and underwear as I scrutinized myself.

I was now down to 97 pounds. I had forced myself to eat dinner because my parents had started taking notice of my lack of appetite. The food had tasted good to my starving stomach, but another round of texts from Chase had caused me to throw it all up.

I didn’t want to starve myself.

I didn’t want to be able to see every rib in my body when I stood in front of a mirror.