Spoiler! :
"Shh. Shhhh. It's okay, Am. Don't cry." Such a pointless thing to say. Amity had been going out with Dallon for months, how could she not cry when he broke up with her? They were so close. It was so sweet watching them together. It was clear they adored each other. Heck, I was almost crying. I can't, though. I have to be strong for her. She's not tough enough to get through this by herself. She's too willing, too...sweet. Interesting. Before now I had never thought of that as a bad thing.
I tightened my grip around her tiny shoulders. Dallon approaches. "Hey, lets go to my house. We'll have smoothies and do our nails." I smiled down at her.
"Kaylee, you always know just what to say." She brushed her shimmery blond hair out of her tear-streaked face and turned toward the parking lot. I winced as, in the process, she happened to notice Dallon standing not ten feet away. Amity took a deep breath and, as I watched, astounded, marched her little frame up to Dallon. He stared down at her, expressionless.
I jumped about a foot as Amity, with more power than I though possible from her, backhanded him across the face. She was about to rebound and slap him again when he grabbed her toothpick wrist in his own muscle-bound fist and tossed her to the ground as though she were an apple core, gnawed to a scrap of trash no more worth holding onto than, well, an apple core. I heard her start sobbing afresh, and, as he turned away, I darted up to him, snagged his shirt in my fist, twirling him around. He looked startled, even more so when I started talking.
"Just who do you think you are?" I said between my teeth. "You've scarred her. You've broken her. Thanks to you, she'll never be the same."
"I think I'm Amity Jensen's ex-boyfriend. Let go of my shirt."
"That's it? That's all you can say? Do you feel any shame? Do you feel anything at all? You cold monster, does love mean anything to you?"
"What's the big deal? Lemme go." With that he jerked his arm out of my grip, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked off.
I helped Am off the sidewalk and helped her to my car. Her arm was bleeding. I cleaned it up before starting the car and driving to my house. As I started the blender running with some strawberries in it, I asked, "Are you feeling okay now?"
"I guess," Was her only reply. She sounded raspy, shaky. I guess that's all you can expect for someone who'd been crying for the past ten minutes. I stood there a while longer, wondering what to say. When the blender turned off and I could hear clearly I could hear her crying again. I went to her.
"Oh, come on. You know that if he broke up with you he doesn't deserve you. You are so amazing, you'll find someone else."
Wrong thing to say. She cried harder. I sat and patted her shoulder for a minute before she said, "I stopped living today. He was my only reason."
"Don't say that!" I gasped.
She looked me in the eyes. "I just did," She whispered. "You can have my share of the smoothie. I just want to go home."
I nodded. I took her home in my car. We said nothing. There were many times I wanted to, but at this point I feared it was pointless.
The next months oozed past, a single, sludgy, thick, mass of gray and brown. I would never understand why those were our school colors. They don't even go together. I stuck by Amity's side, but sometimes I wondered if she wanted me there anymore. More than once she would slip away, not to be seen for a long while. She seemed more and more tired. She lost weight.
I found her one day in the bathroom. Her pink hi-tops, the ones she wore every day, protruded from underneath the stall door. She was kneeling down, crying and dry-heaving simultaneously. "Am?" I winced as she not-so-dry-heaved. "Amity, are you okay?"
I could hear her breathing slowly. When she finally came out she didn't look at me. She only went to the sink and rinsed her face off. She glanced up, hesitated, then came tentatively into my arms. She was so frail, I was afraid I would break her. She was shaking so hard, I wondered if she needed my help or if she would break herself first. I pulled away and peered into her hollow eyes. "Do you want to use my phone and go home, or do you want to get a ride with me? I don't mind skipping trig."
She muttered that she would take the ride. The entire time I was driving I could almost feel the cold emanating from her. I asked her if she would be coming to school tomorrow, or if she was too sick.
"I'm not sick."
"But you just..."
"I know."
We were silent for several more moments. As I pulled up into the driveway of her house she turned to me. "Please, Kaylee, don't tell anyone I'm making myself throw up."
"Why?"
"I'd...I'd just rather not anyone know."
"No, I understand. What I want to know is why you're...doing that." I couldn't bring myself to say the words.
"I figured that if Dallon doesn't want me I must be really unattractive. Losing weight was the only thing I could start doing without my mom knowing about it. I have to do everything I can to get him back." She was silent for a moment. "Can I go now?"
She sounded so sad and exhausted that I couldn't say no. I promised to keep her secret and let her out of the car, then drove back to school without paying much attention to where I was going. The rest of the day passed by in a haze. My best friend is bulimic. My best friend is bulimic, cycled through my head; noisy, smelly, and disturbing as the circus.
I had to help her. If I couldn't tell I would have to help her myself. It would be hard, but it would be worth seeing the light in her eyes again. She was still half-alive. Not half-dead, half-alive. I had to be strong for Amity.
I talked to her more. I introduced her to my friends. It worked, kind of. I saw a spark every once in a while, though at times I wondered if it was wishful thinking. Sometimes I talked to her, asked her if she was going to get help. Every time she gave me a firm 'No.'
Things went downhill again a bit later. Dallon started asking after Amity again. I wasted no time after that. I couldn't let Amity get hurt again. I called her parents and told her what she had told me. They called a therapist, and she was gone. At first I couldn't believe what I had done, I had just broken a promise. I kept telling myself it was for the better. That it was okay if Amity never spoke to me again, because she would get out of her eating disorder.
She was gone for year. It was in the middle of our senior year I finally saw her again, though I barely recognized her. She had color in her cheeks again. She had gained weight and looked healthy. Her eyes had the same sparks of quirky humor they had before. When she met my eyes she embraced me so tightly I couldn't breathe. "Thank you. I'm so sorry. I love you."
By then we were both crying. When Dallon showed up I barely noticed through my joy of seeing Amity happy again. She noticed, though, and marched up to him. After a fearful deja-vu moment I realized it would be different now. She spoke to him evenly and calmly; "I owe you an apology, too. I'm sorry I let you use me for so long. I'm sorry I didn't see through your lies. You were so good at weaving them, though, I hope you won't hold too much of a grudge on me." She was being sarcastic again. I couldn't believe how much I had missed that in her. "All that remains now is for me to promise that I will never make the same mistake again. I'm strong enough without you."
With that she turned neatly on her heel and fairly strutted back to me. She smiled brightly, tossed her hair, and pulled me away. I could hear Dallon calling for us. Who does he think he is, I wondered finally. He held her heart in a jar for so long, like an insect. Imprisoned. What makes him think he can sweet-talk her back in? Who do you think you are, Dallon? Who do you think you are?
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