Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I let out a groan. “What the hell do you want, Phoenix?” I demand as I wave my hand in Jackson’s general direction. “I’m not even slightly interested in him. He’s a loser. He’s all yours.”
She narrows her eyes on me as I notice people stopping what they’re doing and watching us, hoping for a catfight. “You know,” she starts just loud enough for everyone to hear. “I know about you.”
I roll my eyes. I mean, what the hell could she know about me? “Whatever you think you know, I’m sure it’s probably some made up bullshit.”
“Oh really,” she says. “You’re not sick?”
“What?” I grunt as the room goes a little quieter. Brooke gasps beside me and looks to me with a questioning gaze. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not sick.”
“That’s not what Dr. Raymond says,” she tells the room with a smug attitude. My heart begins to race as the walls start closing in. How the hell does she know about Dr. Raymond?
“Leave it alone,” I tell her.
“Leave what alone?” Phoenix asks innocently. “You mean you don’t want me to tell everyone that you’re on a two finger diet? That everything you eat comes straight back up again?” Laughter is heard all around the room but all I can focus on is the sound of her voice, Jackson’s sneer behind her, and Brooke’s shocked gasp beside me. “I’m just looking out for you, Tora. You’re sick, you need help.”
I start shaking my head, or maybe it’s my whole body shaking, I don’t know, but big fat tears begin the well in my eyes. People laugh and point and I’m once again the center of attention, but not for the reason’s I’m used to. I’m the person being laughed at, just like I used to be when Nate was the one making them laugh.
My pulse begins to drum in my ears and it’s quickly becoming the only thing I hear.
I can’t breathe.
I need to get out of here.
I spin on my heel and hurry out the back door, gasping for breath as the cool air hits my face. I run and run until I’m at the very back of the property. I hit the back fence and spin around to find Brooke right behind me.
I search her concerned and hurt eyes. “Is it true?” she asks. “Are you bulimic?”
I take a breath and slowly let it out as the tears roll down my eyes. I sink to the ground and look up at Brooke as she crouches down to me. I nod my head. “Yes,” I tell her as the shame completely takes over me. “I… I don’t do it anymore.”
“But… why?” she says, searching my eyes for some answers. “You’re beautiful.”
“I never felt it,” I tell her. “It started when I was fourteen. I did it all the time. When mom found out, she took me to a doctor and I got healthy. Then over the summer I did it again and stopped when Nate happened.”
She nods her head and is silent for a while. “I guess we know the dirt Phoenix had on you now,” she says. “But, why didn’t you tell me?”
I look down, unable to meet her eyes. “I was embarrassed… ashamed. I didn’t want you to think any less of me.”
“Oh, Tora,” she groans as she throws her arms around me. “Don’t be stupid. I could never think less of you. You’re my best friend and I love you no matter what. I could have helped you.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I kept telling myself that, and I swear, I went to tell you a million times but right before the words came out, I’d stop myself.”
She squeezes me harder and we stay wrapped in each other’s arms. “You’re all good now, right?” she asks. “You don’t feel like you’d do it again?”
“No,” I tell her, pulling back and letting her see just how serious I am, though a smile cracks across my face at the mascara that’s smudged under her eyes. “I’m good.”
“Good,” she says as she narrows her eyes on me. “What?” she demands.
“Your face,” I laugh. “You have raccoon eyes.”
Her eyes widen in horror as a low gasp comes sailing out. “No,” she cries. “Is it bad?”
“Oh, yeah,” I laugh as I rub at my own eyes, though, I didn’t bother with makeup tonight, so I know I’m good. I mean, maybe a little red and splotchy, but that’s it.
“Shit,” she groans. “What am I going to do?”
An idea strikes and I strip off my jacket before switching it with hers. She pulls it on and I pull the hoodie up over her head before telling her to keep her head down. I lead her back up to the house and walk us around the back, searching for a side entrance. We find the laundry door and slip in while also finding a pile of Noah's dirty underwear.