Chapter Five: Maintaining

TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DETAILS OF EATING DISORDERS

I was going over to Sam's, but her dad said she'd just gone out to the shops for a second.

"Okay, I'll wait out here," I said. He was smoking (he never smoked indoors).

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah thanks, you?" I said cheerfully.

"No, I'm not having a polite conversation. I mean, Riley, you don't look well."

"I'm fine. Seriously."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, thanks."

"Are you ill?"

"Des, I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

Something inside of me broke. "No, I'm not," I cried, and he gave me a hug, took me inside, and held me in his arms, but I never told him what was wrong.

When I heard the front door begin to open, I ran into the bathroom, and made sure I looked presentable. I trusted Des to not tell anything, though there was always the possibility that I could be wrong.

Sam had bought me flowers and I had bought her chocolate. We often debated with guys if girls loved flowers just as much as chocolate, and they never believed us that it was true. I didn't even particularly like flowers, but I did think that they were pretty.

Sam and I went to Costa - she ordered a latte, and I ordered a black coffee. I would rather have had a hot chocolate, but I wasn't sure about calories, and even if I asked, it would be inaccurate - they always added extra milk, cream and sprinkles. I longed for being able to eat and drink whatever I wanted, and when I wanted, but I didn't think that obsessing over every little thing would ever go away. My New Year's Resolution for 2017, the one I hadn't told anyone, was to be the skinniest girl at prom, and at first, I thought I'd have to compete with Jane for that. As it so happened, Jane was planning on maintaining a BMI of 15, which wasn't something I was interested in. Although I had initial goal weights and BMI aspirations, I dropped lower than them all, so even my goal of being the skinniest girl I had already done; therefore in theory I could maintain too, but I couldn't stop. I felt empowered, and superior, and didn't care that my grades were slipping, so long as I was still passing all my subjects.

A*'s in English went to B's, A's in history went to C's, but as long as I could get into college, it was alright. Some days I would sleep as soon as I got back from school, other time I'd be euphoric, manic, and not sleep for days on end. Fruit and vegetables were my lifeline, but it became impossible to have a bowel movement without daily laxatives. I got pissed on a shot of whiskey, and even I could see - I didn't look well, and I was going to die.

I convinced myself it was possible for an anorexic to function like a normal person, even at a BMI of 13.3. I tried the ABC diet for a while for some structure, in fact, I asked people for diets to recommend on nqb, but none of them seemed right. Nina's prediction was correct - I wanted to survive on no calories at all. I made the decision to eat 200 calories every day, except Friday and Saturday, where Friday was 2000 calories and Saturday was a 24 hour fast. My social life all but disappeared - except that was okay, because everyone was at home revising, and so was I.

April brang pleasantly warm weather, but when Sam felt my hands one afternoon when we were revising together, they were as cold as ice. She attempted to warm me up, and put my hands up her shirt, so I was touching her breasts. Uncomfortable because she was not quite 16, I took them away again. My hoodie was riding up my abdomen slightly, and she put her hands on my stomach. Immediately, I pushed her away, but not before she could say:

"F**k."

"Bad circulation," I said.

"That isn't bad circulation," she whispered, "that's what a dead body feels like."

Her dad came back in from smoking a cigarette, and the popcorn finished popping in the microwave. I gratefully took a few handfuls. I was starving. Literally.

"My prom dress should come in the post by tomorrow," I said.

"You're gonna drop dead before prom, Riley."

"Anyone can drop dead."

"Most people don't look like they came straight outta Auschwitz."

Changes needed to be made, but it wasn't something I could do on my own. Jane was looking a little worse for wear, and I discovered she was snorting cocaine. Our physics teacher asked to see us after class and we complied. My chest was hurting, and Jane had the shakes.

"You two aren't okay," Mr James stated. We sat on opposite sides of the room in physics, so I was surprised when he asked: "Are you guys friends?"

I looked at her for a sign of what to say, and she momentarily glanced back at me.

"Yes," she responded.

I clutched my chest with my left hand, and held my aching head in my right. Standing up was hard.

"Sam says I won't make it to prom," I blurted out.

"What do you mean?" Mr James asked.

"I'm going to die, and I think I want to." I said.

"Wow," Jane said.

"I'll make it through GCSE's though," I assured them. "And this," I said, walking out the classroom, "this conversation was confidential." At the doorway, I turned around, and he nodded at me.

When I went into the canteen, everyone asked me what that was about.

"Just making sure that we were okay with foundation physics," I lied.

The 5th May, 2017, was John's 16th birthday, and we had our last PE lesson ever before exam season began. Jane and I were on our third day of a water fast.

Whilst I was busy talking with my friends, John and Sam were talking privately.

*

"John," I said, "this is too much. I'm so scared for her. We have to do something."

"I know," John said. "I'll tell you what, at break-time, we'll go to student services and tell them everything."

As I stopped looking at the floor, and looked over to see Riley, I saw Jane walk past her, and they subtley held up three fingers to each other.

"It's Jane," I said, finally understanding. "Jane's the b***h that's been f*****g my girlfriend up!"