He Loves Me, I Love Ballet

Chapter 13

* a/n This chapter is a little bit of progress for Maria because I am planning on her making baby steps towards healing. Also, there's an event towards the end of the chapter which is going to feel weird, disjointed, generally without any premise whatsoever. Maria's mind and hormones aren't at the healthiest state right now because of her disease, so keep that in mind. And now you may read :) *

Chapter 13

At class on Thursday I was just going about business the way I always do. I noticed myself shaking more than usual and feeling fainter than I usually do, and I wasn't quite sure what was going on around me by the time we finished barre work. Then a few combinations in our center work the teacher stopped class and called my name, from very far away, I think. "Maria? Maria, all you alright? You seem sick, I know you're not doing anything out of laziness, so you must be sick. Your performance the last few weeks has been off, dear, you need to take a break to get better. Eat plenty, and don't do too much." My teacher spoke in a soft, lightly accented voice that echoed in my ears. I protested, I think, but I'm not sure quite what I said. Before I knew it I'd had my things packed and a guy from class was gently helping me into his car and driving me home. My parents told me the morning after that I was not to go to school for a week, and I could return to classes two weeks after that. My brain still hasn't fully registered the fact that I have no dance for three weeks. I've just been sleeping all the time to avoid eating, because without dance to motivate me, I've been wanting to eat more and more. The hunger got worse over the weekend, and yesterday, Monday, I gave in. It was four thirty-two in the morning when I ate. I ate 300 calories worth of cereal. I haven't forgiven myself, of course, but on the other side of the issue, I physically like the food, and then hate myself for that, too. It's a catch-22 because I can't be a fat dancer but I can't dance without eating.

Where do I go from here? I've wondering to myself all week. Today, Tuesday, I ate again, twice this time. I dot remember what I ate the first time, which scares me. I feel like all my control is slipping away from me, and I have this strange new physical strength to make it even more confusing for me. So what do I do now? I want to give up, eat like a normal person again. But the righteous, disciplined part of me won't let me. I'm glad, too. Thank god that that little voice in the back of my mind is there to help me when every cell of my body wants to give in to the food.

I've been doing nothing all day, and I need to leave the house. My parents aren't home, so I put on a pair of Uggs with my t-shirt and leggings. The t-shirt is long enough to cover the tips of my thighs, which are significantly larger than they used to be. I'm almost ashamed to leave the house with my newly fed (read: fattened) body. Oh well.

As I step outside I shut the front door behind me. I start walking without any specific place in mind. I can't go where I want to go (the studio, or the gym) so I decide to go somewhere I strongly do not wish to go. My feet turn me onto Rian's street. Everyone knows where he lives, what with all the parties he throws. It's a nice house, big but not too big and elegant, but homely. I attended his party at the end of freshman year, a time of my life where I could afford to drink and have fun. I used to do crazy things, just like every other teenager. My knuckles rap against Rian's front door and it occurs to me to wonder if he would want me here, but then I decide I'm not going to wonder. He wouldn't reject me, he thinks I'm too fragile. The door opens, revealing Rian, still in his school clothes. He looks at me and I look at him.

The words are suddenly out of my mouth. "Did you think you meant it when you said you loved me?"

He was taken aback by the bluntness of my words, I think. I'd been doing the soft, helpless, 'I'm healing' voice for a while. Anyway, he nodded. My shoulders shrugged.

"Okay." I say.

"Okay?" He asks.

"Okay." I say.

"What do you need, Maria? Just tell me." He asks.

Someone. I need someone.

And before the thought has had time to fully form in my mind my body has already acted upon it, and my lips are pressing against his. He's immediate to react and he brings up a hand to rest softly against my cheek, kissing me back slowly, romantically. I couldn't care less. I didn't need him to love me. I just needed to do something and I felt like I needed to do this. My fingers tangle in his hair and I pull myself tighter against him. Rian gets the message and pulls me into the house, shutting the door with the hand that isn't holding me to him. My hips are against his hips and my lips are against his lips and our fingertips tangle against each other as our feet stumble up the stairs to his room.

What happened wasn't romantic. I was bored, lonely and depressed and he had the great misfortune of being in love with me. It was just an event in time that happened and was over. I had sex with him and he made love to me and then, as soon as he fell asleep, my feet padded down the stairs and out the door. Rian would get over the undoubtable heartbreak when we had to have the 'so we fucked, now it's awkward, what do we do' talk and he realized it meant nothing to me. I had needed someone and the idiot was there for me, we had done the deed because I needed to do something and get over it. Now I was and I had to focus myself again. My eyes looked down at the food in my hands as I was walking, and my eyes took it in for a moment before it was flung to the side. My legs began to take me home, tired and hungry. My mind was determined that I stay that way.

*A/N it's hard to read, I know. It has to be, that's how Maria's thinking at this point. But as you can see she has a little incident where she starts to eat again. It's a very miniscule step, but it's a step... Or is it?*

*PS: you'll notice the weird way it's written, with 'my eyes' 'my legs' 'my mind' instead of just 'I' or 'me'. It's to simulate the sense of detachment Maria feels with her world and within her own body because her mind is so fucked up that it's deteriorating. That's what hunger will do to a person.*