I didn't take my meds today.
Two days ago Caitlin Adams asked if I was bipolar because I was into her on Monday but by Friday I had figured out that she was too demanding.
But those words, that question... it seeped into my soul and tarnished my tho...
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"Where are you going?" I asked Jamie as he rushed around the house looking for his car keys.
"Out." He found them and shrugged on his jacket.
"Out where?" I swiveled on the bar stool, following his every movement with my eyes.
"Out anywhere away from you." I fluffed up my hair, chasing his footsteps down the driveway. I was bored out of my mind, I had no friends here besides Cam and he was seven episodes deep into Teen Wolf. I plonked myself in Jamie's car and waited for him to start up the engine. "Get out."
"I'm bored. I'm coming." He pursed his lips at me but then turned the key into the ignition and I smiled.
Jamie was an attractive guy, in a 'I'd never date you kinda way.' His smile was a toothy grin reeking of boyish charm.
I watched him with interest, he held the steering wheel loosely like driving relaxed him. His medium-length hair blew in the slight breeze pouring in from the window, ashy blonde tufts blowing softly but not enough to actually disrupt the messy style it always remained in.
"So where are we going?" I asked, tracing my fingers over the threads of my seat belt.
"For food." He fiddled with the blower temperature and then smiled. "It must be really boring to eat all healthy and shit all the time. You don't even put sugar on your cornflakes."
"You're severely malnourished Fearne, your blood work shows that you haven't eaten in days and your body mass index is dangerously underweight. We're going to look at putting you into a program for an eating disorder." The doctor read from my charts instead of speaking to me, I listened really carefully to understand the Indian lint he had to his voice. I eyed up the cannula in my arm, it was slowly making me feel human again.
"I don't have an eating disorder." I croaked, my words taking up all of my energy and effort. "My father told me I had gained weight and advised me to cut sugar out of my diet." The doctor looked up from my chart and furrowed his dark brows at me.
"What was your original weight?" He pulled a pen out of his pocket and got ready to write.
"126lbs." My lips felt dry and cracked but I didn't have the energy to raise the cup of cool water to my lips.
"126lbs isn't overweight, it's perfect for your height. Cutting sugar out of your diet wouldn't have had this drastic impact on your health Fearne." He seemed confused but life with my father was simple. He laid down the rules, I had no choice but to follow them.
"My father halved my meals, refused to allow me to eat anything with sugar or carbs. I underwent long hours of fasting and he weighed me frequently to check my progress. My future husband wouldn't want me to be fat. My job as a female is to look pretty, be slim and attend to his every need."
"Fearne, I'm going to need to speak to your father about this and a social worker." I laughed weakly.
"The social workers are useless, they take me away from him and then put me back with him, then take me away again. I wish they would just make up their mind. And as for you, you're Indian. My father won't credit anything you say as plausible because he's disgustingly racist."
"We're going to get you a dietitian, increase your solid intake at a slow and steady pace. Leave it with me Fearne, you'll soon be feeling brighter and better."
"Whatever."
"You get used it until it becomes so normal the thought of eating anything else makes you sick."
"Kinda like not drinking." He side glanced at me with his powder-blue eyes and I wanted to start a conversation off about his battle with addiction that I assumed he had but he pulled into a parking lot of a hometown diner. We walked in together and I spotted Arlo instantly, suddenly becoming extremely nervous.
"Fuck, you didn't tell me he was gonna be here." I whispered as we approached the table. My frigid palms became clammy and I wiped them on my light-wash jeans.
"Who?" Jamie questioned.
"Nobody, shh." I whispered back.
"You spoke to me!" Jamie stated.
"Shh."
We sat down, the thought of my Instagram mess up fired into my brain and resonated there like a gunshot. Fuck, my cheeks were as hot as lava. I hope I wasn't blushing.
