by Cora Reilly
A smile broke out on her thin face and she stepped aside, so I could look at the notice board as well. “Hi, I'm Olivia,” she said. She didn’t try to shake my hand or to make any attempt at physical contact and I liked her for it.
“I'm Amber,” I told her.
“Are you here for the eating disorder support group?” she asked, her expression hopeful.
I hesitated. I knew that I had neglected my body over the last three years and hadn't been in the sun for the same amount of time but did I look like I was trying to starve myself? From afar Olivia hadn't looked that thin but now that I was next to her, I saw that she was wearing a thick winter coat to hide her body. Her skinny hands peeked out from it, like the hands of a skeleton, fingers like spindly twigs. Her cheekbones were protruding and I could see her blue veins through the skin at her throat and hands. The shadows under her eyes were even worse than mine.
“Actually, I'm here for...” I hesitated, not able to voice it. I pointed my index finger at the name of the group.
Olivia's eyes followed my finger and they widened slightly. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh,” she mumbled. “I hoped you were in my support group. You seem nice and I really don't want to go and...I should probably stop rambling.” She let out an embarrassed laugh.
I gave her a smile. “I don't really want to go to this group either but...” I trailed off. A thought popped into my head and though I knew it wasn’t fair toward Brian or Dad, I couldn't shake it off. “Why don't we just sit somewhere and talk, only the two of us?”
“That sounds perfect. Our own personal support group,” she whispered. “I’d really like that. There's a park around the corner, but it’ll be getting dark soon.”
The woman behind the desk was watching us. She probably wondered why we hadn’t checked in yet. “Is there a coffee shop close by?”
“Yes, a Starbucks is a five minute walk away. I can lead the way.”
We walked in silence and finally settled in two seats in a corner of the shop. It was the most private spot we could find. I kept glancing at the other customers, worried someone would approach us. So far I’d managed not to bump into anyone. The number of people around us was more than I was used to, but I tried to ignore my anxiety. I’d ordered a Pumpkin Latte but Olivia only wanted a peppermint tea. “So who made you go to the support group?” I asked.
She sipped at her tea. “My mother. She’s worried about me. I had to move back in with her after I spent a few weeks in hospital. I missed a lot of classes.”
She talked about her problems without embarrassment. I wished I could do that.
“What about you?”
“Nobody really made me go, but my father and brother really want me to get better.”
“Better how?”
I took a spoonful of cream, letting it melt on my tongue and enjoying the burst of Pumpkin spice in my mouth. “I’m not good with people.”
“You’re good with me,” Olivia said, tugging her legs under herself, making herself even smaller. She was still wearing her coat. “I didn’t notice anything strange about you.”
I pondered that. She was right. I had followed her into the coffee shop without a single freak out. Okay, I’d checked how many men were sitting in the room, but that had been more of a passing thing. Being around Olivia was easy. “Sometimes I panic,” I said. I hoped she wouldn’t push the matter. I really didn’t want to elaborate any further.
She nodded as if she got it, then said. “Maybe we should establish ground rules. Topics that are off-limits.” She fiddled with the tea bag, but didn’t avoid my gaze. She hadn’t once averted her eyes from me. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from her. Despite her obvious differentness – I could at least hide my brokenness most of the time –, she didn’t try to hide.
“I’ll start. Off-limit: diet, food, college, weight, boyfriends, healthy living, my father.” Her brows drew together. “I’m pretty sure I forgot something.”
I cradled my cup. “I hate the question ‘what happened’. I don’t like to talk about the past.”
“That’s all?”
“It is.” So what now? “I moved to Boston less than a week ago.”
“It’s too late to start college,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Okay. So college is only off-limits if it’s about me.”
I smiled. “I didn’t come to start college. At least, not right away. I moved in with my brother and his best friend.”
“That takes guts. My siblings and I fight all the time. I actually miss my roommate, even though she was a bitch.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“One sister, who’s two years younger, and a younger brother who’s thirteen.” Olivia spent the next hour recounting her life with her family. I loved listening to her and she obviously didn’t mind talking. A few minutes after the end of the support group meeting, we arrived back at the center. A hint of guilt filled me at the thought of having bailed on support group. I couldn’t tell Brian. He wouldn’t understand. I checked my mobile for a message from him. I’d written him ten minutes ago, but he hadn’t replied yet.
Zachary
I tried to block out the conversation but it was impossible. I plopped down on the couch and watched Brian pace the room, mobile pressed against his ear. This conversation had been going on forever. How hadn’t Brian lost his shit yet? If it had been Brittany who was bothered me like that, I would have hung up ten minutes ago.
“Lauren, I don't have time right now,” Brian said for the hundredth time and his voice had an edgy note to it. I smirked. I couldn't hear what she was saying in return but the rising of her voice told me that she was pissed – as usual.
“Lauren...” Brian, always the gentleman, tried to placate her. In vain of course. There was more screaming on the other end of the phone.
“I need to pick up my sister.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
“I don't think it's a good idea if Zach picks her up,” Brian said, though he sounded as if he was going to give in.
“I can pick her up if you want.”
Lauren would keep bothering him until he went over to her. The woman was insistent and bothersome but Brian seemed to like her in some incomprehensible, twisted way. But I had no right to judge him. After all, I still had some kind of twisted affair with Brittany, the queen of all bitches.
“I’ll get her. Send her a message.” I shot him a smirk and grabbed my car keys before I left the apartment.
***
I hadn't thought about Amber's reaction when I'd agreed to pick her up. Shock crossed her face when I pulled up in the parking lot. She was talking with a girl that looked as if she was trying to starve herself. I got out of my car and walked toward them but stopped a few feet away.
Her dark brows drew together. “Hey Zack, what are you doing here?”
“I'm here to pick you up. Brian needed to deal with something.” With his bitchy on-and-off-girlfriend, I added in my head. I wasn't even sure if Amber knew about Lauren. Somehow I doubted Brian had told her.
She tried for a smile. “Oh okay. That's nice of you.” Tension leaked from her voice. What she scared of being in a car alone with me?
“That's Olivia,” she said with a nod toward the skinny girl.
Olivia smiled but didn't try to shake my hand; Amber must have met her in the support group. She glanced over to a red Lexus that stopped next to my jeep. “That’s my mother,” she said with a grimace. “I’ve got to go. See you soon, Amber?”
“Same place same time next week?” A look I couldn’t decipher passed between them, then Olivia slipped into her mother’s car and they drove off. Now it was only Amber and I. An awkward silence ensued.
“Ready to head home?” I asked, giving her my most encouraging smile to set her at ease. It seemed to work because she followed me toward my jeep. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of it and I couldn't help but grin. “That's huge,” she said in surprise. It was. My father gave the Hummer to me as a
gift for starting law school – a bribe, and the only form of love he knew. But I couldn’t tell Amber that.
“I'm not trying to compensate for anything here!” I said with a wink, and immediately wished someone would smash my fucking big mouth in.
Amber looked away.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I...” I rambled, then shut up before I could fuck up even worse.
“It's ok,” she said with a shrug. “Please don't apologize.” She climbed into the passenger seat with some difficulties, and I walked around the car and sat down behind the steering wheel. She fumbled with the buckle of the seatbelt. I hesitated. Should I try to help her? I would have to touch her and that would make her very uncomfortable at the very least. “Do you want me to help?” I asked eventually.
Amber froze and raised her head, uncertainty reflected in her eyes. I already regretted having asked her but I couldn't take it back. Her eyes locked with mine and her hands dropped from the seatbelt. “Yes, thank you.”
I tried to hide my surprise as I reached for the belt, careful not to touch her body. She tensed but didn’t say anything. I fastened the seatbelt as fast as possible and pulled back from her to give her room. “Done,” I told her, trying to act casual. I started the engine and took off from the parking lot. She relaxed.
I turned the radio on. “What music do you like to listen to?”
“Taylor Swift.”
“Really?”
She laughed at the look on my face. “Actually, I was just trying to see your reaction. You don’t look like the kind of guy who listens to Taylor Swift.”
“I’ll see what I can do for you.” I started searching the radio for something she might like and eventually settled on a station that was playing Adele. “Okay?”
She bobbed her head. “Better than okay. I love Adele.” She leaned back and gazed out of the side window. “You know, you're the only man apart from Brian and Dad that I’ve been alone with in years without wanting to bolt.”
I risked a quick glance in her direction. Her gaze was soft and melancholic. “I don't like being in cars. I usually feel trapped, but I'm ok now.” She started humming along with ‘Rolling in the Deep’.
I didn't know what to say and she didn’t seem to expect a reaction. I drummed the beat of the song on the steering wheel and she rewarded me with her smile. I wanted to see that look on her face again. I’d do anything for it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Amber
I felt horrible for bailing on therapy yesterday. Brian had been disappointed when I’d told him. He couldn’t understand that talking to Olivia had actually helped and had brought me a tiny step closer to normalcy. I kept my eyes fixed on my plate and took another bite from the stew that I'd prepared for us.
The bell rang, startling me. Zach rose from his chair and walked out of the kitchen to get the door. I didn’t even flinch anymore when he or Brian moved around me. Being in their company 24/7 was obviously helping in some strange way. Reagan's voice sounded in the living room, then steps rang out and she and Zach appeared in the kitchen. Kevin hovered in the doorway, his gaze flitting over to me then back to Reagan. I lowered my head, feeling my cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“Hi Amber, Hi Brian,” she said as she plopped down on the free chair next to me. Her red hair hung in waves down her back.
“Your hair is gorgeous,” I said without thinking. She grinned. “Kevin keeps telling me too, but I hate the color.” She held up the DVD ‘The Devil wears Prada’. “I thought we could have a movie night. It's been too long since we had one.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “So what do you say?”
Brian lowered his fork, his expression uncertain. I knew why. He avoided my gaze as he said, “I don't know.”
“That sounds great,” I said before Brian could say anything else. Reagan flashed me a grin, clapping her hands. “Then let’s get on with it!”
“We won't watch a chick-flick,” Zach said with a smirk, pointing his fork at the DVD Reagan was still holding up. Reagan rolled her eyes and I had to stifle a laugh. “Whatever,” she muttered, though she had difficulties keeping a straight face. “What would you suggest? Rambo the complete edition?”
“No, that one’s reserved for Valentine’s day.”
I choked on my water, which made Zach’s smile widen.
“I’m sure we can compromise on something,” Reagan said.
“We're still eating,” Brian reminded her, pointing with his fork at his plate.
Reagan pouted. “Well, then eat faster!”
I shook my head with a smile. I was already done eating and put my plate into the sink. Kevin and Reagan walked into the living room and I followed a few feet behind them. They sat down on one of the loveseats and I chose the one across from them, pulling my legs up and rested my chin on my knees. Brian and Zach entered the room and I could tell that my brother was worried again. I wished he would stop looking at me like I was a porcelain doll that would shatter any moment. I knew that my mental state was very questionable but his worry kept reminding me of that fact and made acting normal even more difficult. He plopped down on the sofa and chanced another look at me while Zach browsed their DVD cabinet.
He straightened. “Crank!” He lifted a DVD with a man in a business suit and a gun in his hand. I'd never heard of that movie. Reagan seemed to know it though, and she wasn't too enthusiastic about watching it. I nodded my agreement anyway. It was better than watching a love story. I relaxed into the lovechair and turned my gaze to the TV as the opening credits started to run.
Some time in the middle of the movie, my eyes landed on Reagan and Kevin. They were snuggled against one another on the loveseat, looking like two people in love. Kevin kept running his hands up and down Reagan's back, occasionally planting a kiss on her temple, or throat, or cheek until she turned her head and captured his lips with her mouth. Usually, displays of affection brought back memories but what I witnessed between Reagan and Kevin was far more than physical closeness. It was a display of love, of trust, of tenderness.
My heart clenched. This was something I would never have. Tears brimmed in my eyes and it was getting harder to breathe. I swallowed and pushed all the longing, all the despair, all the wistfulness down where it belonged – buried in the depth of my mind with the dying embers of my hope. You better get used to the hell that's your life, Amber, and stop longing for something you'll never have, a cruel voice in my head said and somehow it sounded like one of the men that had ruined my life.
My throat tightened painfully and bile rose in my throat, but I fought against it. Another break down would freak Brian out. I didn't want him to worry more.
“I'll get some popcorn,” I announced and was relieved to hear that my voice wasn't shaking. I felt everyone's eyes on me when I rose from the loveseat and walked out of the room. I closed the kitchen door behind me and drew in a deep breath as I closed my eyes briefly. After I'd calmed down, I searched the cupboards for microwave popcorn. With shaky hands I put it into the microwave and leaned against the counter.
Reagan stepped into the room and closed the door. I tensed. She looked uncomfortable and hesitant while she hovered next to me, not the expression I was used to seeing on her face.
“Amber, I'm sorry. I didn't think about it. That was completely inconsiderate of me,” she said. I turned away from the microwave to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Kevin and I, we shouldn't have...not in front of you,” she whispered, pressing a hand against her forehead, covering her red eyebrows.
Please don't apologize for that. It's all I ever wanted. I shook my head, horrified. “No, Reagan. No. Please, don't act different around me.”
“But it bothered you,” Reagan said, her brows drawing together. “I don't want to bring up memories for you.”
I swallowed, ignoring the tears prickling in my eyes. The mentioning of memories brought up images that I didn't want to see – not ever again. I gripped the counter tightly in an attempt to keep it togethe
r. Be strong, Amber.
“Amber?” Reagan's voice was gentle and full of concern.
I drew in a deep breath before I faced her with new resolution. “When I saw you and Kevin, it didn't bring up memories because I've never experienced anything even close to that. I've never been in love. I've never been so close to someone. I've never wrapped my arms around someone and thought this is home. I've never looked into someone's eyes and felt butterflies in my stomach. I've never made love to someone and I won't – ever. I feel like I've come to an impasse, like my future is a blind alley. I will never know how it feels to lie in someone's arms, to be in love, to kiss someone. Never.” My voice broke and I had to turn my back to Reagan or she would have seen the tears streaming down my cheeks. I felt pathetic and guilty for burdening Reagan with my problems. I'd buried my fears, worries and longings for so long but with my new life they'd resurfaced and I wasn't able to push them away.
I wanted to live a normal life. I wanted to experience love and trust. I wanted happiness. I wanted them so desperately and knowing that I could never have them killed me.
Reagan touched my shoulder, turning me toward her. “Amber, whatever happened doesn’t define who you are forever. You are in control of your life and you can be happy and in love, if you only give life a chance.” Without warning she wrapped her arms around me. I froze at first but then I melted into her touch. I hugged her back and buried my face in her shoulder and then I wasn't able to stop the sobs. Reagan's arms around me tightened and for the first time in years I found comfort in someone's touch. It was so overwhelming that all my walls seemed to tumble and I cried like I hadn't ever cried in front of someone. “I want to give life a chance, but I’m broken.” After a moment I pulled back, feeling embarrassed and guilty. “I'm sorry, Reagan. I didn't...”
She shook her head, her expression determined. “No. Don’t apologize for your tears,” she said. “And you're wrong, Amber.”
