I sipped from a glass of water and raised my knife and fork. It was spaghetti and meatballs today. 490 calories at least. My mind whirred; counting. I never was good at maths, all this shit about triangles and quadratics. But when it came to addition; I was an expert. After all, I'd had years of practice at every meal time.
"Mmh, I think I have a stomach ache." I moaned, clutching at my stomach and casting my eyes down to the ground.
"That's the third time this week!" My mum said crossly. She leaned over the table and tilted my head up with her hand. "You don't look too good...you're so pale." She muttered. I squinted up at her, feigning exhaustion.
"I'm really tired as well. Is it okay if I eat this later? I'll come down and heat it up after I've had a nap." I pleaded. Just the sight of it was making me sick to the stomach. My mum glanced at my plate and I held my breath. Please, I begged.
"Okay, go upstairs and sleep then. But this is the last time this is happening okay! We haven't eaten together as a family in months!" Yeah, ever since I cut my calorie intake down to 100. Why else would I be so desperate to get out of meal times, hey, mum? What, did you really believe all those lies that I told you...about eating out with friends, about actually consuming my packed lunch at school...about all those 'friends' I have that you've never met? Do you actually believe all that shit?
"Sure. I'm sure it's just a stomach bug...I think there's been one going around school." I lied, scraping back my chair and topping up my glass of water.
"Okay, well, I'll see you later." I said softly, before charging up to my bedroom and sinking down onto the cream flooring.
"Fuck," I whispered.
