Not Just a Number: A Young Adult Contemporary Novel

by Sara Michaels

  In order to keep myself motivated, I had set several small goals for myself in the areas of physical and emotional health, and I also included some practical activities that I knew I had to get done in order to move forward. I had them logged in a productivity app that Theresa had recommended, and it really felt like a great self-affirmation every time I ticked one off.

  The big thing from a physical health perspective was to get my BMI or body mass index back within a healthy range. At the moment, it was on the borderline between underweight and the initial stages of normal, but according to my nutritionist and Theresa it should ideally be halfway through the normal range for optimal health for me personally. The irony was that my goal was almost exactly the same as I had weighed before I started trying to lose weight.

  So, weight was my main focus in recovery, but there were also other significant changes that needed to happen in order for my body to function normally again.

  My body temperature had started to normalize again, and I had realized with a start how significantly my health had been affected by my anorexia. It was a disorder that had outward physical signs like weight loss, but it was the physical damage you didn’t see that was more problematic. I now understood that I had put my heart under significant pressure, and I had forced my body to operate all its functions without any fuel. As a result, my body had started to cut out nonessential functions like my period. It had changed the extent to which it regulated my temperature, figuring I could sort that out myself while it went about the business of keeping me alive.

  The intense exhaustion I had felt was my body saying, “Lie down, I can’t carry you around and keep you alive.” I hadn’t listened, though, and so it had forced me to stop. Right on the pavement, my body had said, “Enough!”

  I was grateful that I no longer needed to wear the coat. It was getting easier to experience normal temperatures like everyone else. Of course, I hadn’t just been wearing the coat for warmth, but also for comfort. That part of not wearing the coat had been more difficult to deal with than feeling cold, but I was slowly coming to terms with it. I still wasn’t exactly flaunting myself these days, but I felt less of a need to hide my body.

  Today I was wearing jeans and a shirt that fit. It wasn’t tight or revealing, but it didn’t gape around me like a sack either.

  “There’s a weird breeze today,” Ryan said, rubbing his arms to get rid of a rash of goosebumps that had appeared. I wondered if he had read my mind. He had a habit of knowing what I was thinking, it seemed, or perhaps we were just on the same wavelength.

  “Darn, where is that big coat of mine when we need it?” I joked and winked at him.

  He smiled at me strangely and I wasn’t sure if I had said the wrong thing. It wasn’t like I was minimizing everything that had happened, but it felt good not to be too serious about it. I would occasionally make jokes like this, and I guessed it was my way of showing that I wasn’t too wrapped up in myself. I hadn’t thought it would be offensive to Ryan, of all people, who was one of the most chilled people I knew.

  He did laugh a bit, but it sounded stilted, almost like he was nervous.

  That was strange, I thought. What could he possibly have to be nervous about?

  Kya had stayed behind at school for a dance troupe get-together, and we would all be seeing each other the next day for milkshakes. Lisa, the waitress, had been over the moon to see me after my last visit to the diner had ended in my weird outburst. She had been even more overjoyed when I had ordered my usual milkshake, and I had to admit it had tasted good. The struggle was still there in convincing myself that it was okay, but it got easier with every sip, and conversation now distracted me from my obsessive thought loops more than it had before.

  I was really enjoying our slow walk home that afternoon. Ryan knew that I wasn’t allowed to exercise too much yet, so everything we did was slow and deliberate, like two old people slowly making their way down the street. It was nice to spend some time with just him. Even though Kya was always welcome and her presence appreciated, the dynamic between Ryan and I was different, easier somehow. For the last while, our friendship had been different than before. Not in a bad way, just with Ryan being responsible for watching what I ate, our interactions had been different. I had seen another side to him as well, a stronger, more protective side, and it was quite exciting if I was honest. My mom had described it as a “big brother” role, but I didn’t feel like that fit anymore. There was an element of protection and my being able to rely on him, but I definitely wouldn’t describe him in brotherly terms.

  We neared the spot where I had passed out on the day that all my secrets had been revealed. The relevance didn’t pass Ryan by either as I felt him looking at me while we walked. I wondered if he regretted having been with me that day. It was one of those situations where, if you had just done one thing differently, everything would have changed. If he had stayed after school for something, or if we hadn’t paused quite as long to say goodbye to Kya, he wouldn’t have been stuck caring for sick Abby.

  “You’re looking so much better now than you were that day, Abby.” I arched an eyebrow at him with a playful look of shock, and he shook his head and waved his hands. “No, no, I mean you always look great. You're beautiful. I just mean that you look so much healthier.”

  I laughed as he desperately tried to correct himself. I knew exactly what he meant. I did think that was the first time he had called me beautiful, though. It felt good, probably even more so coming from him because I had so much love for him.

  It was difficult to define that love. It wasn’t like the love I had for Kya, a friendship love. I wasn’t sure that I really could define it because I didn’t think that I had felt that way about anyone else.

  When I was with Brandon, I thought that I loved him. I now realized that I hadn’t really. I had cared for him and I had liked the fact that his popularity status automatically elevated mine by association, but I hadn’t loved him. He definitely hadn’t loved me, that was for sure. At times I wondered whether he had even really cared about me because if he had, surely he wouldn’t have behaved so hurtfully.

  My thoughts drifted back to Ryan. He could have just ignored what I was going through. He could have taken the easy way out and just left me to my own devices, figuring that it wasn’t his problem. Instead, he may well have saved my life.

  Although it sounded dramatic to say, even in my head, I too had now seen some of the literature my mom had read that first night. I had seen how far this disorder could go, and it was pretty horrific. The shiver that ran down my spine as I thought about it had nothing to do with the cool breeze. I was still a way off from full recovery, and maybe I would always have to be aware of my relationship with food, but I knew that I had made good progress. The most important part was that I had acknowledged that I had a problem, and now that Ryan was acknowledging my progress, I really felt like I had come full circle.

  “I’m really proud of you, Abby,” Ryan said, and my heart sang at his words.

  Through my therapy, I was starting to realize that my deep need for approval was part of my problem, but I was pretty sure it was okay to be glad that someone so dear to me was proud of me. My need for approval was what was behind my so-called self-improvement exercise of losing weight, but it was never about improving myself for the sake of being better or healthier. It was always about becoming someone that I thought Brandon would approve of. I hadn’t really intended to get him back, but I had figured that if I could fix the ‘problems’ that had caused him to break up with me in the first place, maybe I could somehow avoid that rejection again.

  Ryan continued, “You have worked so hard, and I know it hasn’t been easy for you at all, but even when you sometimes struggle, you always keep on fighting.” I briefly wondered if he knew about my cheese string lie, but decided to put it out of my mind and just enjoy his kind words and encouragement. The cheese string was in the garbage rotting away, and I sure wasn’t going to let it spoil my walk with R
yan.

  The cool breeze was quite refreshing, even though I was also getting goosebumps on my arms.

  Ryan’s house was in view now, and I knew that he would soon veer off home and I would walk the rest of the way to my house. I wondered what Mom would make for dinner, and for the first time in ages, the thought did not cause me panic.

  Quite suddenly, Ryan stopped walking. He put his hand on my shoulder to stop me, too, and looked at me. “Abby, I need to ask you something.”

  Ice ran through my veins. What now? Was it going to be something about the anorexia? I really didn’t know if I could get too deep into that right now. I just wanted to have a chilled afternoon.

  He was chewing on his lip and looked terrified, which in turn, terrified me. “I want to ask you something,” he repeated, “but you have to promise me that this won’t affect our friendship, and you have to just be honest. If the answer is no, then it’s cool. Seriously.”

  He was completely freaking me out now. How could I promise him that it wouldn’t affect our relationship when I didn’t know what he wanted to ask me? What the hell could be on his mind that was stressing him out so much?

  “Our friendship is the most important thing here, okay? And I really don’t want to mess that up.”

  A million possibilities flew through my head, and I did my best to quell them. If I allowed myself to get into a thought loop, I was going to say the wrong thing, and apparently it was very important that I give the right answer to whatever life-changing question Ryan was about to ask.

  “Our friendship is really important to me too, Ryan,” I said desperately. “What’s wrong? You’re freaking me out.” I hadn’t seen Ryan like this before, and I suddenly wondered whether he was about to ask me for advice about a girl. My heart started to race. I didn’t know if I could deal with that. Was he dating someone or wanting to date someone and needed guidance?

  A sick sinking feeling filled my stomach as I tried to picture him with a girlfriend. It would be even more painful than seeing Brandon with Grace. In fact, there was no comparison to how terrible that would be, and I was suddenly just realizing it. I did not want Ryan to be with anyone. Why, though? Didn’t he deserve to be happy? He deserved happiness more than anyone.

  Despite the chill of the breeze, a sweat had broken out on Ryan’s brow, and my heart was pounding fast now. “So obviously we have prom coming up.”

  He was going to ask about advice for a prom date! Bile rose in my throat, and I knew that I had to handle this kindly to avoid upsetting him and making things uncomfortable. I thought about who it could be that he was interested in. I had been so wrapped up in myself recently that I had not paid much attention to what he was doing or who he was talking to. Was it someone we both knew? Maybe it was the new girl that joined halfway through the year because her dad was transferred from Michigan. She was really pretty, and Ryan had spoken about letting her sit with us at lunch at one stage, but then my whole “eating disorder” thing had made lunch less of an enjoyable experience.

  It probably was her. I braced myself for the pain as he started to speak again.

  “You are going to look so amazing in that dress, Abby, and I would like to be the first person to see you in it.”

  Huh? Why was he talking about my prom dress? I had excitedly showed pictures of it to him and Kya earlier in the year, but what did that have to do with our friendship? I felt like he was taking the really long way round to a pretty direct endpoint, but I still had no idea what that endpoint was. Did he want to take pictures of me in my prom dress? Had he taken up photography? Did he want to be there when I came down the stairs at home? What the heck was he trying to ask? I felt like he thought he had already delivered his question, but the quizzical look on my face and my silence told him that it had not quite hit home, because I still had no clue what he was talking about.

  He groaned and took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to be clearer. “Abby, I would like you to be my prom date, and I want you to know that my,” he struggled for the words, “my feelings for you are more than just friends.”

  Holy cow. What? I briefly wondered if I was having a psychotic break and I was imagining all of this.

  Had Ryan really just asked me to the prom? It was several seconds after the question had finally left his lips and I still had not answered, so he filled the silence.

  “Abby, if this is something that you really don’t want, it’s totally fine. I’m more than happy to just be friends. You can be totally honest with me. I don’t want you to do this because you feel like you have no other choice or something.” He was rambling now, words falling from his mouth faster than I could process them.

  I was still stuck on the fact that Ryan had asked me to the prom. I was shocked, there was no doubt about that. Despite Kya’s idea that Ryan had deeper feelings for me, I hadn’t expected anything to happen before we went off to college. I had entertained thoughts of us connecting while we were in Chicago, but I certainly hadn’t thought about going to prom with him. It wasn’t that I did not want to go with him, I just didn’t think that was on his mind at that point.

  All at once, though, it felt right. The idea sank in and settled around me like a warm blanket. I actually could not picture going to prom with anyone else.

  He started to say something else, likely another round of “don’t feel pressured,” but I stopped him with a raised hand.

  “Ryan...” I smiled broadly and looked into his eyes. “I would love to go with you to prom. In fact, I wouldn’t actually want to go with anyone else.” As my truth tumbled out, I realized that I was still smiling. It wasn’t a plastered-on fake smile even though I was nervous; it actually felt like the most genuine smile I’d had on my face in a very long time. It had been some time since I had felt true joy, and even longer since I had felt like I had anything real to smile about.

  As Ryan stood in front of me, though, he was the best reason in the world to smile.

  He looked stunned and just stared at me in silence for a moment, likely wondering if he had heard me correctly. “Really?” Then he broke into an enormous grin himself, and my heart skipped a beat. The sweat was still evident on his brow, and I was pretty certain that if I placed my hand on his chest, the thumping inside would match mine.

  I took both his hands and looked at him. People talk about time standing still, and I think I witnessed the phenomenon in that moment. The breeze blew around us, dogs barked in the distance, Ryan’s house stood just yards away, but we were insulated from it all. Time moved around us, but we stood still.

  “Yes, really,” I said. I knew we weren’t going to kiss. The moment was deeper than that, in fact. Instead, I just lost myself in his eyes, and he in mine. “There is no one else in the world I would want to spend that night with.”

  I had tried to convince myself over the last few weeks that prom was really not a big deal and it didn’t matter if I went or not. Now, though, I had to admit that it was a big deal. It signaled the moment that we all turned away from our high school journey and looked to the future. For me, it was going to be the moment where I celebrated my advancing recovery by wearing my sister’s dress. It made total sense that I would spend that night with Ryan.

  The pressure and strain of the last few weeks seemed to melt away in that moment. The breeze just picked them up and blew them away. I could not remember ever feeling like this about Brandon, and as I acknowledged my deep connection with Ryan, I realized that what I’d had with Brandon was really superficial. This, though, was one-hundred-percent real.

  16

  That night, I sat in my room and thought about the events of the day in amazement. How different life could be from one moment to the next.

  I had been friends with Ryan from our first day at high school. I could still remember seeing him standing by the water fountain, awkwardly trying to figure out where he was supposed to be. He had moved from another school district. His parents had hoped to find a nicer neighborhood for their family
here. I had been familiar with the high school because my sister had gone there. My mom and I would attend sports days, concerts, and other activities that my sister had taken part in, so when I had started going there, it had not seemed completely new.

  Despite the time that had passed, I could still picture what Ryan had been wearing that day and how alone he looked. This was after we had tumbled into each other on the stairs. Literally, fallen into one another.

  My heart had gone out to him, and even though I knew that he would have made friends even if I hadn’t walked up to him that day, sitting in my room now with the knowledge that there was so much more between us, I thanked my lucky stars that I had approached him that day. It was so weird to think that I had never thought about him as more than a friend. I mean he was totally gorgeous, and smart, and amazing. Perhaps, deep down, I had never thought he would be interested in me precisely because he was so amazing. He clearly had deep feelings for me, though, and I felt really lucky to be the object of his affections. If someone like Ryan liked me, maybe I wasn’t that bad.

  I briefly wondered why, if Ryan liked me, Brandon didn’t. Could they have such different standards? Ryan was actually better looking than Brandon, if I was honest, and smarter too. The only thing that really made Brandon popular was his sports abilities, as well as his arrogance.

  And his arrogance made people more fearful of him than anything, I admitted to myself. The real difference in their choice in partners, lay in them, not me.

  Ryan was the type of person that was capable of a deeper relationship than Brandon was. Brandon was all fun, and parties, and superficial interest. Ryan saw who I was as a person. Perhaps that was the reason that Brandon had been more attracted to Grace. She was also flightier, less serious about life—which was fine, there was nothing wrong with that really. It just meant we were different. Very different. I was the math geek, and she was the cheerleader. Could it really be that simple?