The Disappearing Girl (25 page)

“I’d like to finish school, too,” I said. “It’s going to be my senior year, but after my crappy grades last semester, I may not graduate on time. After that I’d like to get a job with a newspaper or magazine. Maybe eventually start a magazine featuring real girls and not only fashion models.”

“Isn’t she adorable?” April asked Chelsea jokingly. “You forgot to mention how you’ll marry Cameron and bear his children.”

I smiled at her prediction. “Of course I want a future with Cameron, but maybe I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I haven’t talked to him in weeks and I have no clue when I’ll be ready to see him again. We’re not together, so he could meet someone else and fall in love with her.”

April said, “No way. From what you told me, it sounds like an epic romance. You went through way too many crappy times together to not end up happy at the end of it all. It gives me hope for my love life. I was always too busy and obsessed with dancing for a boyfriend. While I’m schlepping around the world, I plan to have a few flings to make up for it,” she said dreamily.

“I bet you will,” I said. “You’ll have to send me postcards and tell me all about the guys you meet.”

“You can count on it. I’ll let you live vicariously through me as long as you promise to try to make things work with Cameron,” she said narrowing her eyes.

“Fair enough,” I replied.

“We should hold our own therapy sessions in here. We’ll have brownies and talk about all the ways having an eating disorder sucks,” Chelsea said while using her thumb to wipe off a smudge of chocolate left on the corner of her mouth.

“It does suck,” April agreed readily. “The worst part was when my family found out about it. They kept saying things like ‘snap out of it.’ Like it was that easy. Did they honestly believe I want to be like this?”

“I hated how my friends and family tried to pigeonhole me. Like because I’m not a size zero, they thought I didn’t have a problem,” Chelsea added. Chelsea had an average build and long black hair reaching toward her waist. From group sessions, I learned Chelsea struggled with binge eating and bulimia. “We’re real people, not all of us are going to fit the textbook definition of having an eating disorder.”

“I couldn’t stand how my eating dictated my life. I had to avoid people and places because they would get in the way of starving myself or going on one of my binges,” I said.

They both nodded and the room quieted. We became lost in the past, mourning all we’d lost because of our illnesses. I thought about the dinner dates with Cameron I had turned down, the times I’d told Brittany and the twins I was too tired to go out to The Court for dinner and drinks. I could never get those missed moments back, but I could plan for a brighter future.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I looked in the mirror today and I think it was the first time in a long time I was able to see what I really looked like,” I told my therapist, Noreen, a week later.

“What was your reaction?”

“I’ve avoided mirrors a lot and I think it was to prevent myself from seeing the real me. Where’s all the fat I thought was on my body? Because all I see is flesh sticking to my bones. Being under a hundred pounds was never my dieting goal. But once I got there, it still wasn’t good enough,” I explained.

“Are you learning to accept your body?”

“It’s hard, but I’m getting there. I mean that’s what you guys preach here, right? Getting rid of all the dangerous and destructive feelings that got me to this point.” I pursed my lips and felt my shoulders tense. “My problem is I have a tendency to
feel
too much. I was able to be apathetic after my dad died, shut everything off to survive. Once all those feelings I pushed down came back to haunt me, I felt suffocated by my emotions.”

“How can you change the way you handle your emotions to make better choices?” she asked.

I had become accustomed to the probing questions. Being more of an introvert, it had been a little strange for me to constantly talk about myself and hyper-analyze my every action. From sun up to sun down, every activity was about how to change the way you were on the inside as a way to survive outside of those walls.

“I guess I need to find a happy medium. Not turn everything off, but not obsess over every tiny setback, either,” I answered.

Half an hour later, I finished my session and headed in the direction of my room. Each meeting with my counselor left me with a lot to think about, and I liked having time alone afterward to process all that was said. I was learning to not tune out the voice of reason inside me that wanted to heal and move on from the past.

When I entered the room, I noticed a few pieces of mail were left on my bed. My initial guess was most of the letters were from Lila. Although she visited with my mom at least twice a week, she liked to send me notes on the days she didn’t see me. She’d gotten it into her head she was going to help build up my self-esteem, and the letters were homage to all the ways I was awesome. She certainly laid it on thick, but they did have the desired effect of making me smile and laugh.

My mom was making progress, but my expectations were modest. Whether or not she was able to accept Lila and me as we were was insignificant. I couldn’t give her words that much influence over my life anymore. She was trying, and I gave her credit for it. Lila had confessed they went shopping together and my mom hadn’t made one derogatory remark about my sister’s clothing size.

I picked up one of the envelopes that were on the bed. Cameron’s tight scrawl was instantly recognizable on the envelope. My heart stopped for a minute, and I had to remind myself to breathe. My fingers trembled as I tore into the envelope and drew out the lined sheet of paper.

Dear Kayla,

I swore I was going to leave you alone, but Angus insisted on writing you. He misses you like crazy and wanted me to pass along the message. To be honest, we both do.

Lila told me you’re doing great there. Maybe I’m being selfish because when I heard that, the only thing I could think of was you’d be coming back to me soon.

I get the reasons we can’t be together right now, but it still sucks. I don’t want to be without you and I freak out when I think that things may be over for good between us. I don’t want to lose you. I
can’t
lose you.

I’m here when you’re ready to talk. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you, but I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you either. Angus is keeping the spot on my bed warm for you and it’s ready whenever you want to come back.

Love
,

Cameron

“You look like you’re about to pass out, Kayla. Who’s the letter from?”

Before I could respond to April, she scanned the letter behind me. I’d been immersed in Cameron’s words and hadn’t heard her come back to our room. She let out a low whistle. “Damn, Kayla, if you’re not going to take back that spot on his bed, I’ll volunteer.”

I playfully shoved her. “Hands off. I’m thinking it was impulsive of me to decide not to be in touch with him while I’m here. I really want to write him back. What do you think?”

“Yes!” April shouted. “I’d kill someone to find a guy like that. You’re lucky I like you or I’d totally try to steal him from you. It’s so romantic he wrote you a love letter.”

I bit down hard on my lower lip. “It’s embarrassing to think back about how ugly I was to him when we were together. I said and did some messed up things.”

Cameron’s letter couldn’t have come at a better time. I needed the reassurance he still had feelings for me. I’d let him go because I was trying to give him the opportunity to walk away. But the truth was most of my daydreams involved being released from River Center and hurling myself back into his arms. The only thing holding me back was the constant playback in my head of all the ways I’d screwed things up.

“This disease is ugly. Kind of ironic, I guess, since we’re doing it to be pretty.” April shrugged her delicate shoulders and handed me the notebook that had been resting on my nightstand. “Write him back. If you think about it too much, you’ll probably change your mind.”

April had a point. There was a litany of reasons to keep Cameron at bay. Yet, he was the one bright spot in the dark days from before. I was finally able to start believing he loved me. He’d said it before, but I hadn’t thought I was good enough for him. As if he loved the counterfeit Kayla I chose to show him, and not the real version. I imagined if I gained weight, he would leave me.

“I think my hang-up is I met him while I was at one of my lowest points. Like the thought that something good could come out of anything about that time in my life is impossible. But I wasn’t always miserable. I could forget sometimes what was going on with me and have an amazing time with him.”

“Just because it wasn’t the right time to meet someone doesn’t mean jack. It happens that way sometimes. You’re not looking for love and it finds you regardless and bowls you over.”

I reached for the notebook. Pleased her harassment worked, April left me alone to figure out what I wanted to say to Cameron. Her release was imminent and I was already imagining how much I’d miss her. Friendships grew fast at the River Center.

I’d failed to tell Cameron how I felt for most of our relationship. But I wanted to be candid with him going forward.

Cameron,

I miss you too. And give Angus a kiss from me. On second thought, maybe a hug would suffice.

I hated being here at first. It was crappy to give up control and trust a bunch of strangers to help me. But I made some friends and the staff is actually not evil minions like I initially thought.

Don’t be afraid of losing me. My heart will always belong to you. As much as I tried to deny it, you’ve had me since you gave me one of your cheesy grins and shoved a credit card application in my face. I ran away from you out of fear. I thought something that powerful and passionate couldn’t be real.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely “cured” but I’m dealing with my baggage. I still need some time to work through everything, but I want to come back to you too. I’ll be in touch when I can.

Love,

Kayla

Chapter Thirty

“Kayla! What the hell! I didn’t know you were coming back!” Brittany squealed. She charged me and pulled me in tight for a hug. I laughed at her greeting. I was just as excited to see her.

“I thought I’d surprise you. I was only released a couple of days ago. The counselors didn’t want me to miss the start of the semester. I’m still going to do therapy, but just on an outpatient basis,” I said in a rush.

The hurdles I’d faced at the start of treatment had been easier to get through the longer I stayed at the River Center. By the end, I wasn’t the girl full of resentment and despair who sat in the back of group meetings, not truly hearing what anybody had to say. I could listen and relate to the emotions of the other patients. We were all lost in some way, trying to find our way back.

“I’m so flipping happy right now! I thought I was going to have to get a blow-up doll and pretend you lived here to keep the college from giving away your room,” Brittany said, giggling.

We were back in the same townhouse as the year before. The college used a lottery system to determine housing. Since Brittany and Danielle had lucked out and received top picks, they were able to select our old dorm, as well as Jessica and me as their roommates.

I followed Brittany into her empty room as she dragged in her suitcase. I had arrived a couple of hours before and had half my belongings unpacked already. “Well you know how my summer was,” I said. “What about your own?”

“Not as exciting as yours. I heard from your mom you were living with a crack head whore—can’t wait to hear the stories about that. Mostly, I spent time with Kurt and helped out at my parents’ restaurant.”

I held no resentment toward Marti. I felt sorry for her, if anything. Her dream of becoming a model was unlikely, and I hoped she stopped hurting herself in order to make it happen. I had sent her a text before I left for the clinic to let her know I was going to get treatment. She sent me a text back saying she felt sorry for me and not to let the doctors turn me into a fat cow. Part of my recovery was cutting off contact with her and the rest of the girls I’d found through Pro-Ana. In the future, I wanted to share my story and hoped to change the unhealthy mindset of women like me.

“I’m glad you and Kurt are still together. You make a good couple,” I said as she unzipped her suitcase.

“I think so, too. But I may need you to feign another fainting spell in a room of hotties in case it doesn’t work out,” she quipped.

“I’m at your service,” I said with a laugh.

Brittany stopped unpacking and stared at me shrewdly. “You’re back.”

She didn’t have to elaborate. What was left unsaid was I had disappeared for half a year. The Kayla she befriended in freshman year, the girl who bought her M&Ms and trashy romance novels after each boy broke her heart, was back in her life.

“How has your mom been? Did the therapists recommend shock therapy after her sessions?”

“Nothing quite that extreme, but I think counseling is helping her, too. We talked a lot during family counseling, and it seems like a lot of her screwy ideas about beauty came from how she was raised as a pageant princess. Also, she was so angry after my dad died, blaming him for not taking care of his body better and having a heart attack. That was the reason she went after my sister and me about our weight,” I explained.

“I still think she’s horrible, but for your sister’s sake maybe she’ll stop being so damn wicked all the time.”

“I’m not expecting miracles overnight, but she’s trying. Lila sees that and she’s having an easier time living with her. Lila has come a long way too. Without having me to lean on, she’s become her own person.”

Lila shined now, and she’d discovered a confidence she didn’t know she had. She had told my mom she was no longer forfeiting control over her life. Not only would she eat what she wanted, but she’d also choose her own friends and boyfriend. My mom wouldn’t concede complete control, but at least Lila had found her voice. Their new dynamic alleviated the guilt I typically felt when I returned to college.