Fragile Bones

Chapter Twenty-Three

"We're having dinner in twenty minutes," I heard my mom say, cracking openly bedroom door. I simply nodded, not bothering to vocalize an answer. Somehow, I had a feeling that this was the time my parents were going to talk to me about the whole divorce situation. They hadn't said anything on Friday (probably since they had been busy handing out candy), nor Saturday, leaving today the only available weekend day left. To be honest, they hadn't said much of anything in general to me. When I wasn't at school, I spent my hours in my room either doing homework or obsessing over my body. It was evident to me I had lost enough weight to be noticed by my parents, but if they saw anything different they didn't bother to comment on it.

It was getting easier to not eat. Once you've trained your body to not take in as much calories, your stomach shrinks and it becomes more bearable. I would still get pretty severe stomach pains, but those usually lasted only ten minutes at a time, and only a couple times a day, if that. Being in pain thirty minutes out of the twenty-four hours in a day was like a bucket of water in the ocean. Insignificant.

My phone buzzed from next to me. I reached over my homework that was splayed across they grey comforter to pick it up. Asher's name was displayed on the lock screen, which didn't surprise me in the least. We had been texting each other a lot these past few days, since he couldn't be at school to actually talk to me. It felt strange to have someone I could just talk about my day, or share funny gifs with. He asked if I had any social media, and I had to lie and say no because let's face it. If I told him I had some weird stalker account with a pseudonym he would think I'm crazy. So, he made me make a new one with my actual name and follow him. When I tried asking what the point of it was, he only said that "everyone did it, so you should too". Yes, great logic. The one thing I wouldn't do was upload a selfie as my profile picture.

Do you want to come over, was the simple message. No punctuation or anything, so it almost sounded like more of a demand than a question. Ignoring the butterflies erupting in my stomach, I was about to type "no", but hesitated.

I looked at my door, as if expecting my mom to still be standing there. Any minute now she would call up that dinner was ready, and I would be forced to talk about something I didn't want to. Something that would mess up my life more than it already was. I know running away from your problems is never a good solution, and I would have to face it eventually, but putting it off a little while longer wouldn't hurt anyone. For this reason, my fingers typed out yes.

•••

As it turns out, it really wasn't hard to sneak out the front door. I made it to Asher's house relatively quickly, even though it wasn't too close. I figured I would take the time to exercise a little better than I normally did, and jog. However, when I arrived at his house I'm sure I looked awful and sweaty. Running had never been my strong suit, and it showed. Smoothing out my hair, and wiping a sleeve over my damp forehead, I knocked on the door. While I waited from someone to answer, I stole a glance at the other houses on the street. All of them were big and lavish, definitely coming from people who had money. I bet Spencer lived somewhere around here; it certainly seemed like he was well-off.

The door opened and to my surprise it was not Asher, but a woman I had never seen before. It didn't take long for me to deduce that she was a maid of some sort, based on the clothing she was wearing. She was very pretty, with thick, dark hair pulled up into a bun at the base of her neck. I guessed she was probably in her late thirties or early fourties. She smiled kindly at me, and over her shoulder I saw Asher running up to the door behind her. "Mary I said that I would get it."

"I know, but it is my job to do this. You spoil me too much child," she said to Asher, and ushered me in.

"This is Mary," Asher said to me, reaching behind her to slam the front door shut. "Mary, this is Madeline."