Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Fifty Three

TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERS

Aurora

Everything was seeming blowing up in my face. That was the first time I had ever seen that look on Sam's face in all the years I had known him. I didn't see what the big deal was, it wasn't like I was starving myself. If anything, I was eating far more than I should, only purging when I had done so. Nothing sinister. Sam just didn't see it that way though.

The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut was enough to break me from my thoughts. Immediately I wiped away the tear stains from my cheeks that had long since dried, lest the unexpected visitor notices them.

"Rory, I'm home," my dad yelled as I heard him slip his shoes off.

"In the living room," I called back. Almost instantly did I hear his footsteps echoing around the house.

"Y'alreet, pet?" he asked with a smile, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of my head before continuing his journey to the kitchen, probably to start dinner judging by the Aldi bags clutched in his hands.

"Alreet," I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Just saw Sam, ya know," he told me nonchalantly. My entire body tensed up at the mention of my boyfriend. "Was in a bit of a tizzy actually."

"Oh, reet?" I inquired, the part of the clueless idiot coming all too naturally to me.

"Aye," he began, the sound of rustling following. "He said he was worried about ya, sommat about you having an eating disorder."

"What?" I inhaled sharply.

"I know, how absurd!" he laughed loudly. "Told him he was imagining things. There's no way like."

"Yeah, no chance," I chuckled softly but my heart was racing. I didn't know why. It's not like I did have one. I certainly wasn't anorexic nor would anyone think it if they looked at me. I was far too overweight to even be considered so.

"Ya might want to phone him though, he didn't seem reet," he sighed.

"Yeah, I will," I assured him. I didn't waste any time, pushing myself up from the sofa and out to the hallway to pull my shoes on.

"Rory?" he called.

"I'm gan oot," I told him, not waiting for his reply before I darted out of the door.

Sam

After bidding my goodbyes to Jamie, I decided to take a trip to the beach to clear my thoughts. It was absolutely Baltic out but I never minded the cold. Plus it meant that King Edward's Bay would be near enough empty and I wasn't in the mood to deal with being social.

I don't know how long I spent sitting on one of the many sand dunes staring out at the wild, grey ocean crashing onto the shore. My thoughts consumed me, filled with my concerns for Rory and the worst-case scenarios of 'what if'. I was so tense that my muscles were beginning to hurt and my jaw ache, but my mind kept me distracted from the pain.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I hastily pushed myself up from the soft sand and turned to face the source of the voice, only to be met with my girlfriend storming towards me, absolutely seething.

"What?" I frowned, my brain which had been working overtime taking a minute to process her words, never mind her anger.

"What. Is. Wrong. With. You?" she growled, punctuating her words with a finger jabbing into my chest harshly. "There is nowt wrong with me! I don't have a fuckin' eating disorder! And I certainly don't need you telling my fuckin' dad I do!"

"Rory-"

"No!" she spat. "I told ya I'm fine! It's like you don't fuckin' trust me!"

"You're twisting this," I faltered.

"You're twisting this," she hissed. "Whatever ya think is gan on, isn't."

"Scarlett-"

"Don't call me that!" she glowered, cutting me off.

"Fine. Ya need help, Rory," I told her through gritted teeth. I was thankful we were alone, the only sound other than our conflict was the waves against the shore and the howling of the wind as it blew around us, mirroring the emotions we were both feeling in that moment.

"I don't need anything! Least of all from you!" she fumed. "You had no right to tell my dad, especially when it's not fuckin' true!"

"Ya can't expect me to believe that? Hell, how can you expect yourself to believe that?" I scoffed, staring at my girlfriend, who didn't dare speak. She only stared at me challengingly. "Oh my god, you actually believe that, don't ya?"

"Why wouldn't I? It isn't true," she raged.

"You're lying to yourself," I huffed harshly.

"You're like a broken fuckin' record!" she laughed bitterly, pinching her nose with her index finger and thumb.

"I won't drop this," I promised her, waving one of my hands wildly to convey my conviction. "I'm not gan sit back and watch you kill yourself."

"Then don't," she spat. "We're done."

"What? Rory-"

"Leave me alone, Sam," she hissed, turning on her heel and storming off, leaving me standing alone with a shattered heart and a mind filled with conflicting thoughts.