What I Lost

by Alexandra Ballard

I hung up the phone and walked as fast as I could to the foyer. Ray was in the nurses’ window, filling out forms on the counter. “Ray, my friend got a new car and wants to show it to me. Is it okay if I go outside for just a second? Please? I promise I’ll walk really, really slow.”

  Ray nodded without looking up from his paperwork. “Don’t be gone long, though. Nurse Jill will read me the riot act if she finds out.”

  “I promise.”

  Katrina was right outside the door, leaning against the cutest cherry-red Honda Civic I’d ever seen.

  “Oh my God! It’s adorable!”

  “I know!” We hugged and jumped up and down a couple of times.

  “Why did your parents get it for you?” Had I missed her birthday? No. She was a July baby.

  “Because I just took the SATs, and guess what my score was?”

  The SATs. I’d forgotten that they were a couple of weeks ago. Katrina and I were supposed to take them together, for practice. I’d backed out, saying I had allergies. The truth was that I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. The SATs were four hours long.

  “I got a fifteen hundred! Can you believe it?”

  I tried to ignore the simmer of unease in me and be happy for my friend. But I couldn’t help it. What was I going to do about the SATs? And my grades?

  “Can you go for a drive? Please tell me you are allowed to go for a drive.”

  I totally wanted to. But leaving the property was about as against the rules as you could get. “I can’t.”

  “Oh.” Her whole body slumped. “Well, can you at least sit in it for a second?”

  I glanced back toward the door. Ray was nowhere in sight. “Sure, I guess I could. For a second, anyway.”

  I climbed in. It smelled like a new car. “This is so nice,” I said, settling back into the black cloth seat. I’d gotten my permit back in May, on my sixteenth birthday. I’d started driver’s ed at the end of the summer, but I’d had to drop out to come here. I was supposed to get my license in November, but who knew when I’d get around to it now. I thought for a second about Katrina, Shay, and Priya driving around together. It gave me a stomach cramp. It seemed impossible that I’d only been here for ten days. It felt like a month.

  Katrina turned toward me like she’d read my mind. “Things aren’t the same without you, E.”

  “Thanks. You know what I was thinking about the other day?”

  “No, what?”

  “Remember when we went ugly hunting?”

  Katrina beamed. “Totally. Oh my God. That was so funny.”

  Of all the things I missed doing out in the real world, ugly hunting was up toward the top of the list. The four of us used to do it every time we went to the mall. We’d go to a department store and try on the most hideous formal dresses we could possibly find and then Instagram the results. The best selection was always around prom, when the racks were overstuffed with taffeta, sequins, satin, and general tackiness.

  Once, Priya tried to get us into the bridal department at Nordstrom; she’d pointed to Katrina’s stomach and said with a wink at the saleslady, like she was letting her in on the secret, “The sooner the better.” The lady didn’t buy it, and we ran out of the store, three of us shrieking with laughter and Katrina swearing she was going to kill Priya, which somehow made the whole thing even funnier. It hurt to think about now.

  “Katrina, are Priya and Shay mad at me for some reason? I don’t get why I haven’t heard from them.”

  Katrina stepped closer. “They miss you,” she said. “Some people just don’t know how to handle stuff like this. It’s hard, E.”

  “What’s hard about picking up the phone?”

  “You know what I mean. It can be tough to know what to say. Like, right now I don’t want to tell you too much about what’s going on at school because I don’t want to make you feel like you’re missing anything. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t believe her. I was sure that with Shay and Priya, it was out of sight, out of mind. Other girls brought this up in group, too. How they felt forgotten.

  Katrina glanced at her watch. She wanted to leave now. I could tell. I racked my brain for something I could say to make her stay.

  It came to me a second later. Of course! “Guess who checked in the other day?”

  “Who?”

  “Simone McCann.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wait, Simone, Tristan’s sister? Whoa. Why?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her, but something stopped me. Karma, perhaps? Maybe, if I didn’t talk about Simone now, she wouldn’t talk about me at school later. So I backpedaled. “I don’t know.”

  “Huh. Is it weird?”

  “No, not really. I don’t see her that much yet.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  She wanted more info, I could tell, but I didn’t want to tell her about seeing Tristan. She’d make a big deal out of it.

  “Tell me what’s going on at school,” I said instead.

  She launched into a story about a freshman I didn’t know or care about. I waited as long as I could before I asked what I was dying to ask. “So … seen Charlie lately?”

  Katrina scowled a little. “Yes,” she said, full of scorn. “He’s the same. Still an ass.” She paused. “He asked for your address.” She obviously did not think this was good news.

  My stomach flip-flopped. “Really? When? Why?”

  “The same day you came here. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened. It’s just that, well, I didn’t want to upset you. Has he sent you anything?”

  “No. Nothing.” Except for perfect things, I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut. She wouldn’t understand.

  “Elizabeth, you can’t let this mess with your head, okay? I don’t want you waiting for something that never arrives.”

  “Katrina, I am so much better now. Seriously, I’m not like that anymore.” We both knew what she was talking about. After Charlie and I broke up, my anorexia got worse. I started existing on six cans of Diet Coke, four almonds, and two cucumbers a day, down from one yogurt, a few almonds, one banana, and three bites of dinner. By the time I got here, six weeks later, I weighed 90 pounds, 15 less than when we broke up.

  Katrina wasn’t buying it. “He’s still toxic, Elizabeth.”

  “I know. But don’t worry. He hasn’t sent me anything and I bet he won’t. I don’t even want him to.”

  “Well,” she said, “just don’t get your hopes up. He probably asked me because he knew it would kill Heather. They were in a huge fight at the time.”

  I played with my seat belt and looked away, embarrassed by how excited her words made me. “How do you know?”

  “Priya told me. It doesn’t matter anyway, because I think they made up.”

  “What was the fight about?”

  “I don’t know. Why do you care?”

  “No—no reason,” I stammered. “I’m just bored here, that’s all. I like to keep track of things.”

  “Um, okay. But, Elizabeth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s still a jerk.”

  “I know.” I almost said something then, so she could see how great he actually was, how he had this little-boy smile he sometimes gave me. Or how, when he learned I had a total phobia of being in speeding cars, he slowed down and didn’t drive as fast as he usually did. Or how, at night, he liked to have tea with his mom, which I thought was ridiculously cute. Or how he’d bring me nuts or a Clif Bar at work and encourage me to take bites. I knew she’d approve of that.

  Katrina’s phone chirped. She checked it and whacked the steering wheel. “Shoot. I have to go. We have an Amnesty meeting in an hour and Devin messed up the copies. I need to unjam her printer.” Katrina was the social conscience of our school. She was president of the Amnesty International club and the community service club, and secretary of student government. Her college application was going to be amazing. Mine, on the other hand? Let’s just say being here wasn’
t helping.

  “I wish you could take me with you.”

  “Me too. Hold on.” Her thumbs flew across her phone screen. “I just need to let her know I’m on my way.”

  “Okay.” I opened the door and got out. I desperately wanted her to stay, but I couldn’t think of the right words to keep her there. “Katrina?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for coming. I miss you.”

  She jumped out of the car and ran around it to give me a hug. I held on to her, not wanting to let go.

  “Me too, E.” She stepped back and I wiped my eyes, embarrassed that I needed her so much. But then I saw her eyes weren’t exactly dry either. “The second you’re out of here we will go for the most epic drive ever.”

  “Okay.”

  She walked back around to the driver’s side. Looking at me over the roof of the car, she said, “I wish I could take you out of here. Or make you better.”

  I nodded. “Me too.”

  Then she climbed back into the driver’s seat and was gone.

  I hadn’t noticed the chill before, but now it seeped into my bones.

  On my way back inside, Tristan’s Jeep came roaring into the driveway.

  My stomach sank. Be strong.

  He hopped out. The gravel crunched under his feet.

  “My mom needed me to hand in some forms for Simone. I forgot before,” he mumbled.

  “Oh.”

  It was so cold. I shivered.

  “What are you doing out here, anyway?” He looked at me like I was crazy.

  “Katrina got a new car. She was just showing it to me.”

  “Oh yeah, I thought that was her. I saw it at school. Pretty sweet.” We walked the last couple of feet to the door together. He reached around me to open it. His iPhone and a bunch of papers spilled onto the ground. I reached down to retrieve them. He did too. Our heads cracked together.

  “Ouch,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

  “Sorry.” His ears turned pink from embarrassment.

  When he gathered up his stuff, he stood, and for a second we were only inches apart.

  I held my breath and stepped away. I hadn’t brushed my teeth since lunch, and it couldn’t be good. That was another lovely anorexia side effect—“hunger breath,” aka breath that STINKS.

  “Um, do you need me to get you ice or anything?”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I don’t need it. A lot of us here bruise easily. It’s a low-iron thing. You know, a side effect of the eating disorders we all choose to have.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about before. I just—I’m upset. I love my sister. And it kills me that she’s doing this to her—that this is happening to her. Don’t take what I said personally. Seriously.”

  How could I not? “Forget it,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”

  He sucked in his cheeks and looked toward the door.

  “Looks like you need to go,” I said. Then, when he didn’t move, “See you.” I hope never again.

  “Yeah. See you.” He jammed his hands in his jeans’ pockets and left. I saw him light up a cigarette the minute he was out the door. I didn’t remember him smoking so much before.

  And then I put him out of my mind. He was nothing but noise. Charlie had asked for my address. That was the sign I’d been waiting for. It was time to call.

  22

  At 5:45 p.m. I walked to the pay phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number Charlie had scrawled on the scrap of paper he’d slid across the counter to me at Scoops that first day. It was still in my wallet, folded up small.

  I hung up as soon as his cell started to ring. What if he felt the same way Tristan did about eating disorders?

  No. Charlie didn’t feel that way. At school he might have come off as a pompous asshole—he was loud and a show-off and loved to drive his fancy BMW too fast in the parking lot. That’s how Katrina saw him. That’s how I’d seen him, too. But then we went out, and he was different with me. Sensitive, even. He’d always say, “Elizabeth, you are perfect just as you are.” Those were dreamy words, even if they were untrue. “I’m worried about you,” he’d tell me sometimes. “What can I do to help?” I always acted like I had no idea what he was talking about.

  No, he wasn’t like Tristan. He was kind. Besides, he’d sent me all this stuff, so obviously he wanted to talk.

  My breath left a fog on the receiver as I redialed the first three numbers. 9-7-8 … My finger slipped and I hit a 5 by accident. Crap. I hung up. Don’t be a loser. Do it! I told myself.

  This time, with shaking fingers, I made it all the way through.

  “Hello?” When Charlie answered, his voice sounded even better than I remembered—low and rumbly. I was quiet. “Hello?” he said again, and this time his voice was annoyed.

  I cleared my throat. “Um, Charlie? It’s me.”

  “Who?” I could hear “No Woman, No Cry” playing in the background. It was just like our first date all over again. It had to be fate. I spoke a little louder. “It’s me, Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth?” There was a pause. A long pause. “Wow.” In the background, the music shut off.

  I pushed on. “How are you?”

  “Good. Thanks.” I wanted him to feel me missing him through the phone. I wanted him to reach out. I wanted him to say he missed me. I wanted him to say, Let’s get back together. As it was, he sounded cool and a little distracted.

  I took a deep breath. “I was calling to say thank you.”

  He didn’t say anything at first. I heard him breathe into the phone. “Sorry,” he finally said. “I can’t really hear you. Hold on, okay?”

  “Why is she calling?” said a girl in the background. A girl who sounded suspiciously like Heather.

  “Babe,” he said. He muffled the receiver then, but I could still hear. “I’m just going to see what she wants. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  My grip on the receiver tightened. He’d called me babe too.

  “Are you still there?” His voice was different away from Heather. Softer. “Sorry about that. How are you?”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m … um … I’m good. Listen, Charlie, I wanted to thank—” My confidence totally evaporated. Suddenly, I doubted everything. “Charlie,” I said, “I got some packages recently. They … I … Well, someone sent me a brass ring, a jar of sand, a House of Pizza ring, and a poster. Any of these sound familiar?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Instinct was telling me to shut up, but I couldn’t stop. It was like I was possessed.

  “Packages?”

  He has no idea what you are talking about. Stop! I told myself. Don’t say another horrible word. But it was too late. I blurted out, “Yeah. It’s okay. You can tell me. I figured it out.” My voice petered out at the end.

  “Figured what out? Wait—do you think I sent you that stuff?”

  “No, I—”

  He interrupted me. “Elizabeth, I didn’t send you anything. I mean, I should have. Mom said I should send flowers, and so I asked Katrina for your address, and I meant to do it this week, I swear. I’ve just been busy, but I’ll send them now if you want. Wait—did these things have my name on them or something?” he said, confused.

  Oh my God. I’d done it. I’d completely humiliated myself. “Oh, no. I mean, yes, but it must have been my cousin, Charlie. You guys have similar handwriting.” I had to get off the phone.

  “Oh. Well, did you need something? I mean, I’m sure my mom would—you know—send something if you needed it.”

  His mom? “God, no. I’m fine. Okay, well, I better go and give my cousin a call to thank him. He’s so thoughtful, you know.”

  “Didn’t you tell me once you didn’t have any cousins?”

  “What? No! I have lots of cousins. Tons.” I didn’t have a single cousin. Mom was an only child, too, and Dad’s brother, Tom, wasn’t married.

  I could hear the confusion in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Um, Elizabeth?”

  “What?” Hang up! Han
g up! Hang up!

  “I’m glad you’re getting the help you need. And thanks for calling.”

  “No problem,” I said, my voice barely audible.

  After I hung up, I could still hear his voice in my ear. I slid off the stool and onto the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around myself.

  I was so stupid.

  * * *

  At dinner I kept my eyes on my plate and didn’t make eye contact with anybody. I was embarrassed just to exist, like all my weaknesses and shortcomings were listed on a flashing neon sign above my head: Pathetic! Anorexic! Can’t keep a boyfriend! Makes fool of self on regular basis! Loser!

  Charlie didn’t care about me. He wasn’t missing me, or thinking about me, or even worrying a tiny bit. He’d erased me. My heart hurt, but I didn’t know if it was because it was broken or because I was dying.

  I needed to move. I yearned for a trail in the woods where I could sprint until I collapsed. But no one here would let me go. No one would understand how the only way to fix this would be to run the shame right out of me.

  And then all of a sudden everything inside me exploded, like a shaken-up soda. The rules didn’t matter. I jolted out of my seat, overturning my water glass in the process. I made for the doors, head down, ignoring the nurses calling, “Elizabeth, sit down. The meal isn’t over yet”; Lexi saying, “Wait!”; Willa saying, “Come back! You’ll get an Ensure!”; and Margot saying, “Elizabeth, you are bold.”

  I got to a door and rattled the handle. It was locked. I’d walked straight to the utility closet. The door to the hall was one over. Face burning, I yanked it open and sprinted away, my strides long and fast. I was determined to get outside. Then I’d run and let fresh air fill my lungs and then I’d be okay.

  I threw open the front doors. It was dark. No moon. No stars. The cold air made my nose burn. The frost-covered driveway beckoned, and I broke into a run, but my legs barely responded. I willed my breaths to energize me, but I only made it twenty feet before I bent over double, sucking wind. My lungs have shrunk, I thought hysterically. My legs are concrete blocks. I’ve ruined myself.

  I remembered how, back in July, I’d woken up early one morning unable to sleep. The sun was rising and I could tell it was going to be hot, but at that hour it was still cool. I’d laced up my blue Nikes and set out toward the beach. It was deserted at that hour, just me and the seagulls, and as I ran toward the water, my feet barely touched the ground. It had been a short run; I’d already started to tire faster, but for those few minutes, feeling the cool air in my lungs and the strength in my feet, I’d felt like I could fly. Now I wondered if I’d ever feel that way again.