Page 91 of Come Apart
I nod. "I want to know everything about you, no matter how ugly you say it is."
She takes a deep breath, like she's considering it. Then she nods. "I had a lot of time alone in high school. I was lonely. Empty. I had a friend who bragged about her bulimia. She thought it made her cool and edgy. So I knew it was possible." She presses her hands against the edge of the pool. "I tried it once in high school. I made my mom a cake for her birthday, but she never come home. She was probably out drinking. I don't know. But it was just me and the cake. And I knew eating it would make me feel better. But I also knew I couldn't eat all that cake. I knew I needed to look a certain way if I wanted to be an actress."
Her eyes turn to me. She's studying me for a reaction, to make sure I can handle this.
I nod. I can.
I will.
"So I got the idea to try purging. I ate a few slices of cake. I felt sick, but I kept going. I knew I had to get it right, to really stuff myself. And then I locked myself in the bathroom and I tried. It must have taken half an hour before I coughed anything up. It was so awful, and I felt like hell the next day. I was out of it; my stomach was a war zone. My throat was aching. I swore I'd never do it again. I swore I'd avoid temptation so I never even thought about doing it again."
"What happened?"
She takes a slow breath. "It was when I was onTogether. It was a lot of pressure, and the producers made it clear I needed to stay at exactly my size, so I looked something like a teenager. A buxom teenager, but still a teenager."
Messed up doesn't cover it.
"If you tell me their names, I'll sue them."
I'm only half-joking.
Even if it doesn't go anywhere, I'm not above some paperwork harassment.
It's the least they deserve.
She laughs. "That would do a lot for my reputation. The poor, pathetic actress who can't handle criticism."
"If you want it to be anonymous, I bet Laurie knows someone who will take 'em out."
"Take them out?"
I nod. "I'll foot the bill too."
She smiles, and there's finally some life in her expression. "I'd rather stay a non-felon. But thanks for the offer." She draws another circle with her foot. "I had a lot of time to think about how badly I might fuck up. I had so much to prove. I had to show my mom, Ryan, the high school drama teacher who told me I was good, but not good enough to get my GED and move to L.A. I was terrified I would fail, and I didn't know how to deal with it. There was no one to talk to. Ryan was my friend, but he was against me acting. I wasn't going to drink myself stupid and turn into my mother. I couldn't just eat. The producers would have freaked out if I gained weight. But I remember that I'd tried and thought I could try again."
"And you did?"
"Yeah." She presses her fingertips into the concrete. "It was still hard, but it was easier. I swore I'd never do it, just stick to my 'healthy eating plan,' but I needed that release. I needed something." She brings her gaze back to mine. "You probably think it's pathetic."
I run my hand through her hair.
She leans into me, closing her eyes. She wants more, a quick end to this conversation followed by a thorough distraction. But I can't give that to her.
I'm not going to help her run away from her feelings.
"You've been alone your whole life," I say. "You found a way to get through a hard time. There's nothing pathetic about it."
She nods like she almost sort of believes me.
We sit there until the sky is dark and the stars are bright.
* * *
I make dinner.A bland dinner, at Alyssa's request.
She's certain the meal will be awkward, that I'm going to stare at her like a guard watching a prisoner.
It's not entirely comfortable. I watch her more closely than I mean to, but she doesn't call me on it. Hell, maybe she appreciates the concern.
