Perspective- Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Lucy

I was relieved when the bell for the end of school rang. It had been a long day, I’d never wanted James to find out about Sean like that. In his mind it was yet another terrible betrayal from his awful bitch of a girlfriend, but he wasn’t totally innocent! Sure, he’d never cheated like I had, but he told lies about what he was doing or who he was with in case I disapproved, I mean, for Gods sake, he even told his Mum all the details of our relationship. What is with that? He thinks I don’t love him as much as he loves me. That’s not true. I love him with everything I’ve got; I just love in a different way than he does.

I heave myself off my seat and begin walking towards the Thame Leisure Centre where I meet Annabel to walk home with every day. She is stood outside with a can of Dr Pepper, her blue eyes panicky behind her trade mark glasses, her straightened hair beginning to unravel due to the weather, and Twit the hat askew on her head. The sight of my goofy bestie stood outside, swigging from a can as though her very life is dependent on it, immediately raised my spirits,

“What are you doing to that poor can? You’re meant to swallow after you sip, not swig it around your mouth for half an hour… Oh, god, please don’t gurgle it!” I laughed at her, she swallowed it and grimaced at me,

“I’m trying to wash the guilt from my mouth.” She stated, I frowned,

“What do you have to feel guilty about?” Annabel studied her hands for a couple of moments, I took the can from her and took a swig, and she looked up and whispered,

“I made out with Chris.” I struggled not to spit the drink in her face, swallowed, choked, and burst out laughing.

“Crap. Why’d you do that?” I giggled,

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. It was all Lady and the Tramps fault!” I looked at her in confusion, then James walked straight past, heading towards the bus bays,

“Fine.” I screamed after him, terrifying a small year ten girl stood close by, “don’t say goodbye then!” he ignored me and continued to walk. I closed my eyes in frustration,

“What’s going on there?” Annabel asked in alarm at my out burst,

“Forget it and spill all about Chris. What about his spots, weren’t they gross on your face, like, ewww!”

I half listened as Annabel detailed her ordeal with Chris, it was a good distraction from my drama queen of a boyfriend,

“I mean, I practically choked on his tongue! He dribbles too, I may not be the most experienced kisser in the world, but at least I have control of my spit.” She concluded with the voice of someone who has just suffered a great tragedy. I laughed,

“Lets go see Megan, she’s got to hear about this!” Megan was a friend of ours who we walked to school with (as well as a boy called Atilla), but who’d been ill that day. I wanted to see her so that I wouldn’t have to go home straight away, because once I was home I’d just eat comfort food because I was pissed with James. I couldn’t start binge eating again, it was essential that I remained a size six, people only want you when you’re thin. Annabel turned her piercing blue eyes on me,

“Oh yes. Why not, lets go tell more people about me snogging Mr Acne.” She replied sarcastically. I turned the corner to Megan’s house anyway, and she sighed and followed me, just as I knew she would, just as she always did.

Megan answered her door with a big smile on her ghostly pale face,

“Hey guys,” she said sounding genuinely pleased, “I love it when people visit me when I’m ill.” We stepped over the thresh-hold and I immediately told her,

“We just thought we’d come and tell you all about Annabel’s latest adventure.” Annabel groaned, stepping in behind me and kicking off her shoes,

“Do we really have to go through this again” she asked,

“Yes.” I insisted, because if we didn’t talk about Annabel, Megan might ask about James,

“Spill all.” Megan said to Annabel, her eyes alight with interest. Annabel exhaled slowly then said,

“I kissed…” but I interrupted barely able to stand waiting,

“She totally got it on with Chris” I squealed,

“No way. NO WAY” Megan shrieked, looking at Anna for confirmation. She nodded once, “Annabel! I do not approve” Megan told her, incredulous at this new gossip,

“I don’t approve and I did it!” Annabel replied, “It was an accident.” Megan and I looked at each other and burst out laughing, and, after a moments hesitation, Annabel succumbed and joined in too.

We didn’t stay long enough. We re-analysed Annabel’s ‘accident’ for half an hour, then we asked Megan how she was and talked about the daytime telly, then the conversation turned to my own relationship. I quickly made my excuses for needing to go home, and Annabel and I left. For about five minutes I gave her my best walking in heels tips (don’t why I bother, she’s a hopeless case), then we went our separate ways. I got to my door and prayed someone else was in the house, but the door was locked and the lights were out.

I remember when having the house to myself was a good thing. It meant I had complete control of the television remote, it meant I could play my music as loud as I pleased, it meant I could walk around completely naked if I so desired. I never had desired that, but it was nice to know the choice was there. The older I got, the less I enjoyed being alone. When I’m alone I’m free to eat as much as I want, I’m free to hate myself for eating so much and count up every single calorie, I’m free to go into the toilet and force myself to be sick, I’m free to obsessively run up and down the stairs fifty times, and I’m free to dig out the clothes I wore when I was twelve years old and make sure I’m still the same size. I need to stay thin. It’s why boys like me, it’s why I like me. It’s the one stupid thing in my stupid life I can control. I know I’m a bitch to James, and I know one day he’ll leave me. I can’t control that. I know my parents will split up, and I’ll have to choose between them. I can’t control that. I know one day I’ll get old, and nobody will want to screw me. I can’t control that. But food, and my weight, that I can control.

So that’s what I did when I got home. I had three packets of crisps, a raspberry yoghurt, a ham sandwich, a can of coke and three chocolate bars. Thast 3389 calories. I felt a bit sick after all that anyway, so I rushed upstairs, raised my index finger and pushed as far down my throat as I could, and bought it all up. Once you start being sick like that, it’s quite hard to stop, but about five minutes later I’d stopped heaving enough to gargle some mouth wash, and start on the stairs. I’d run up and down thirty two times when my Mum and Dad returned home, so I had to go and do sit ups in my room instead. I could hear them through the floor arguing,

“If I had the money, I would just walk right out of here.” My Mums muffled voice was proclaiming,

“Get a job and F off then” my Dad replied, equally as angry. So she stormed out the house and slammed the door. She’d be back though; this was practically a routine now. Sometimes I wondered if they still meant the awful things they said to each other, or if it was just like reciting lines from a very old script.

“Sixty two, sixty three, sixty four, sixty five.” I counted the numbers in my head as I continued to do my sit ups. Half an hour later Dad called up the stairs,

“I’m going to the Chippy, what do you want?” my tummy rumbled, but I declined the offer,

“I ate earlier, thanks Dad.”

At about nine in the evening I got a text from James,

“Sorry for over reacting, forgive me?” I smiled with relief,

“Of course babe, it didn’t mean anything with Sean.” I reassured him,

“I love you forever baby” he promised, probably thinking that it was true, but it wasn’t. Nothing good lasted forever, not for me. One day I’d screw it up so badly he wouldn’t come back. But for now, I’d let him hope,

“I love you too. Always.”