Une Fleure Fanée

Week 5 Part 1 (Sunday)

     Mom nearly catches me looking at my ribs in the mirror. The ones that barely show. You're the fattest bitch that ever lived. You can't even see your ribs. My cropped hoodie's up and the door's open. I manage to pull down my hoodie and resume putting on eyeshadow when she walks by. Close call. I finish my makeup, take my pill, and make my way to the table for "breakfast."

     I'm very chatty and cut up my fried egg and toast to make it look like I ate more than nothing. Mom doesn't seem like she notices anything was wrong. Thank God.

     I'm still shaken up from last night, so I'm going to not be carpooling with Brady and GiaNina today. All the moms are going to be there and so is Ms. Abby. My game plan is to avoid everybody and keep to myself.

     "Lilly! We gotta go!" Mom yells at me while I'm quickly picking up my dance shoes and putting them into my dance bag.

     I get into the car and it's raining again. At least I'll be entertained by the raindrop races. Mom is peeking through the rearview mirror at me. I keep my cool, pretending that nothing is wrong.

     The kids are all staring at me when I walk into our little corner. Ms. Abby's glaring at me. I am terrified. Avoiding eye contact with Ms. Abby, I give all the kids a quick hug and wave to Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna briefly to not seem rude. We all begin to stretch and get warmed up and the moms begin to talk about the events of the competition yesterday. I hear every single word that they're saying. The other kids are too busy talking about other stuff to pay attention to them.

     "So Stacey, how's Lilly been doing?" Brady's mom asks, Mom sipping on her black coffee. So disgusting.

     "Not well. It was a really tough night. She needed answers to why Ms. Abby made fun of the way she looked and if she's telling the truth, and you know, I didn't have a really good answer. I mean, the fact that she didn't even care that Ms. Abby called her jealous and zoned in on what Ms. Abby said about her weight, it's scary," Mom answered, trying to keep her cool.

     "I mean, if you're scared about it, are you gonna pull out from the show?" Hannah's mom asks. Is she going to pull me from the dance team?

     "No. Absolutely not. We worked really hard to get here. I just don't want Lilly falling back into old habits. But she's strong. She knows not to fall into the traps," Mom explains. I'm really sorry Mom.

     I must have zoned out from whatever's going on around me, and the kids must have been finishing up stretching because I feel a hand on my shoulder. I took a sharp inhale as I jolted my head to follow the hand to the person. It's Pressley's.

     "Hey. Do you need some help?" she offers, reaching out her hand to pull me up from my split.

     I accept the help, my legs sliding up to a standing position. I nod at her and smile, thanking her silently for the help. She chuckles a bit out of nowhere. She's very giggly and bright today. I chuckle along with her. We don't have a reason to chuckle, but we burst out into hysterics.

     These are the reasons why I love to dance. You make memories that you'll never forget. We have to stop giggling so that we can get to our workshop on time, running and laughing the whole way. Mom seems pleased that I'm smiling for real for what felt like the first time in weeks. Enjoy this moment, Lilliana. You don't deserve to laugh.

     I shut up pretty quickly after that. Pressley does too. It was a nice moment while it lasted, I guess. We follow the group, keeping up as we walk into a dance studio to do our workshop.

     I keep messing up simple stuff such as sissones and chest stands. Ms. Abby keeps yelling at me for turning in my supporting foot and falling out of my turns. I slowly obtain a stomach ache and a horrible headache that makes me want to pass out. I haven't eaten breakfast, and I'm going to try not to eat today. You're the worst dancer, Lilliana. The absolute worst. You don't deserve to dance with your thighs that don't fit leggings, your stomach that isn't flat, and your ribs that aren't showing.