Thin

by Alicia Michaels

  But, standing so near it just reminded me of all the nights we’d spent there whenever Chloe was out. I felt my face getting hot as flashes of him on top of me filled my mind. I bit my lower lip, hoping the pain would help me refocus.

  Clearing his throat, Aaron ventured farther into the room, shoving his hands down into his pockets. I stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to begin.

  “As I said downstairs, I’ve really been thinking about you a lot, Kinsley. I don’t know everything that’s been going on with you, but I did hear about you going to the hospital and some of the other rumors. I’m worried about you.”

  Scoffing, I shook my head. “I guess I’m spontaneous enough for you now, huh? Almost dropping dead from abusing pills must sound real exciting … sexy, even.”

  Sighing, he shook his head. “If I could take back the things I said before, I would.”

  I couldn’t stop the hurt from making itself apparent in my voice. “That’s the thing about words. Once they’re out and fall on the intended person with the intended effect, that’s it. There is no taking them back. Besides, if you said them, you must have meant them.”

  Crossing the room toward me, he reached out, resting his hands on my shoulders. “But I didn’t.”

  Confused, and unable to hide it, I widened my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. “Then why did you break up with me?”

  His hold on me tightened. “You and I have always been on a set path. Finish college, graduate, get married, finish our graduate programs, start our careers, begin a family. Last year before my graduation, I saw all of it looming so close, and I got scared.”

  Anger left a bitter taste in my mouth, and all the old, suppressed emotions came unfurling from deep inside of me. I was shocked to find they were as acute as ever, as fresh as if the blows had just been dealt yesterday instead of a year ago.

  “Marriage right after graduation was your idea,” I reminded him. “And it wasn’t as if it was happening too fast, or out of the blue. We only dated for three years, Aaron!”

  “You’re right,” he relented. “I can’t explain what I was going through … it just all seemed to be happening too soon, and I felt trapped.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, ’cause that’s what every girl loves to hear.”

  “It wasn’t you, it was me,” he countered. “I realize that now. I accused you of suffocating me and being predictable … but the truth is, I wasn’t ready, and I was scared. I deflected everything onto you, and that wasn’t fair. I’m so sorry for hurting you, Kinsley. You know I’m crazy about you … I always have been. It took me living an entire year without you to realize I can’t do it anymore. I still love you, and I doubt I’ll ever stop.”

  My jaw dropped, shock and gravity snatching the reflex beyond my control. As recent as two months ago, this was the one thing I’d wished for. If he’d come back into my life then, I wouldn’t have hesitated to jump into his arms, telling him I still loved him, too, and start ripping his clothes off. Of course I still loved him—after three years how could I not? The guy was my first, and it would take a lot more than a breakup and year of separation of cure me of those feelings. Yet, the sting of our breakup lingered, reminding me that I stood on shaky ground.

  “This really isn’t a good time. The things I’m going through are heavy. I can’t even think about relationship stuff right now.”

  Trailing his hands down my arms, he leaned in until his forehead rested against mine. “I know you’re going through hell right now. That just makes me feel worse about not being there for you.”

  “Well,” I murmured, trying not to fall under the spell of his nearness but failing miserably. “To be fair, most of this didn’t start happening until after we broke up.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he replied, grasping my arms, his fingers tracing slow circles on my skin. “If I hadn’t hurt you, maybe none of it would have ever happened.”

  Since our breakup had been the trigger of my downward spiral, I couldn’t exactly deny that. “I’m leaving for three months for rehab. I won’t be graduating on time, and I have a lot of things I need to work through.”

  Meeting my gaze, he frowned. “Have things really gotten that bad?”

  “‘Fraid so. My mom called me earlier to tell me my therapist got them to find a bed for me ASAP. I leave in two days.”

  Lacing his fingers through mine, he gave me a tug, wrapping my arms around his waist. Against my better judgement, I clung to him, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.

  “Can I call you while you’re there? I know you can’t make a decision about us right now, but you need people to be there for you. I want to be ‘people’ again.”

  As always, I found myself unable to say no to Aaron. While I considered myself a fairly strong person before hitting rock bottom, he had always been my true weakness. From the first time he hit me with that mesmerizing smile, I was lost.

  “We aren’t allowed to have phones or internet access,” I told him. “No contacts to the outside world, so we can focus on healing. But there are family days once a month … maybe you could come visit me?”

  “I’d like that,” he replied. “Very much. The rest of this conversation can wait until you come home. I want you to focus on getting back to the Kinsley you used to be.”

  Forcing a smile, I hoped for the same. Anything was better than where I stood now.

  Bending his knees until he was more level with me, he captured my mouth in a kiss, his arms tightening around me. I responded on instinct, my gasp trapped between our lips and a chill running down my spine. God, the man could kiss, and it had been so long. Not counting one mindless one-night stand over the summer, I’d never been with anyone other than Aaron. No one else knew me like he did. There wasn’t a man alive who knew how trailing his fingertips through the ends of my hair and down my back would drive me wild. Or that kissing and nibbling along the line of my jaw made me weak in the knees.

  “I missed you,” he whispered, gripping the hem of my baggy T-shirt and drawing it slowly upward.

  Raising up on tiptoe, I deepened the kiss, desperate for some kind of closeness. I had missed him, too—missed the familiarity of hands that knew where to touch me and lips that knew how I liked to be kissed. I’d missed having someone to call mine, and belonging to someone. I wanted it back more than I’d been able to admit to myself in front of everyone.

  Moving inward, his hands found the waistband of my sweatpants. Deftly yanking the drawstring, he loosened them, causing them to pool at my feet. After stepping out of them, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight, determined to lose myself in the moment, even if just for a short time.

  Aaron’s touch skimmed my thighs and hips, traveling upward. His breath grew heavy and rapid, teasing my skin when he bowed his head to pressed a kiss to the side of my neck. His body become rigid against mine, his muscles tightening and that one masculine part of him rising up against the fabric of his jeans.

  Suddenly, his fingers touched my ribs, falling into the grooves between them left apparent by my tightly drawn skin. Gasping, I pressed my hands against his chest to push him away, embarrassment over the evidence of my problem stealing every ounce of sexual desire I’d been feeling just seconds before. I felt tears stinging my eyes as I backed away, wrapping my arms around myself. I could feel every bone beneath the skin. Definitely not sexy.

  Bending, I snatched my pants back up over my stick-thin legs, keeping my gaze averted. “I can’t,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron nodded, his breath still coming a bit ragged. “It’s okay. I understand.”

  But he didn’t. How could he? I was ashamed for him to see me naked because then it would all be in the open. It was one thing for him to know I had abused diet pills and made myself throw up. It was another for him to physically see what I’d done to myself up close. My fingers began to tingle and I clenched my fist, struggling against the urges wreaking havoc on my senses.

  “Can you just go, p
lease? I’ll call you later, I promise. I just … I need some time to think about this.”

  Nodding, but still eyeing me incredulously, Aaron backed away toward the door. “Okay, I’ll go. But are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  I made myself look him in the eye. “I’ll be fine. It’s just been a long day.”

  Reaching for the door, he opened it, watching me as he backed into the hall. “All right. Talk later?”

  “Sure,” I replied.

  A relieved sigh escaped me once the door had closed behind him and I released my unclenched fists. Turning in a slow circle, I observed my surroundings, trying to focus on something other than the raw ache spreading from my chest. I clenched my jaw, closed my eyes, and shook my head, willing myself to fight it, not to give in.

  My control snapped, and as the front door slammed, indicating Aaron had left, I ran from the room. Crossing the hall, I stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I collapsed over the toilet, thrusting two fingers to the back of my throat. It took several tries due to how little I’d eaten that day, but once my stomach began to quiver, and the spasms rippled up toward my throat, I experienced sweet relief. I gripped the rim, trembling as forceful heaves shook me, my eyes watering.

  When I’d finished, I stood and flushed, taking my time splashing my face with cold water, and rinsing and brushing my mouth clean of the sour taste. Glancing up into the mirror when I had finished, I cringed. This girl wasn’t me—or rather, she was not the ‘me’ I used to be. My sienna brown skin had taken on a grayish pallor, my eyes bloodshot and watering. The hollows of my cheeks made my jaw and cheekbones jut out and my eyes looked far too big set in dark circles. My emaciated body swam in clothes four sizes too big.

  I couldn’t be this girl anymore. I needed to get back to the girl who made straight-A’s, was an accomplished tumbler and cheerleader, and had big plans for her life after graduation. Plans that could include Aaron again if I got my shit together.

  Resolute, I marched from the bathroom, hands clenched at my sides. Finding the room in disarray after the packing session, I set about making everything right. Closing drawers and replacing strewn clothes, re-packing the suitcase—making sure everything was folded and arranged inside by type and color—vacuuming and making both beds. Once everything sat in its proper place, I felt better.

  Now, it became even more imperative that I get this thing under control. Too much depended on it, including my life.

  Chapter Three

  Three days after my tumultuous meeting with Aaron, my parents arrived at the apartment to drive me to the rehab center. Together. While I’d known to expect them both, the sight of them in the same room for the first time in almost a year was a bit jarring. Two more polar opposite people couldn’t exist in the world. My dad is a huge bear of a man, towering over six feet, with ebony skin, warm brown eyes, and thick, coarse hair cropped close. A thick beard covered his jaws, giving him an intimidating air—but I knew better. At the sight of me he grinned, flashing his earnest smile and opening his arms to me. In that moment he turned into the world’s best teddy bear.

  As my dad and I embraced, my mother was more reserved, which was to be expected. Serious to a fault, everything about her screamed ‘no-nonsense’ from her austere clothes, to the waist-length jet-black hair always arranged into a tight, orderly style. Once my dad released me, her greeting was far less warm—a short hug lacking all of my father’s kindness.

  It’s not as if she doesn’t love me—this was just her way. The things she had to endure as a Muslim Indian woman in the male-dominated world of business and finance has turned her into a bit of an ice queen. This, of course, being one of the many reasons they split up. Apparently there was only so much ice my dad could take.

  “Ready to go, Slim?” he murmured, reaching out to take my suitcase from Chase who had toted downstairs for me.

  “Really, Robert,” my mom snapped, nostrils flaring in annoyance. “I hardly think ‘Slim’ is appropriate given the circumstances.”

  I could tell Dad was annoyed, but he kept his tone even. “I’ve been calling the girl ‘Slim’ since she was four, Amala.”

  Her only response was to purse her lips and avoid his gaze—a move I’d seen plenty of times over the years.

  Clearing his throat, Chase shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly trying not to let his discomfort with the situation show. With a rare day off from both work and class, he was in chill mode, dressed in sweat pants and a faded T-shirt that read: Hug a tree. They have fewer issues than people.

  “Sorry everyone isn’t here to see you off,” he said. “But have a safe trip, and we’ll all be there to visit on family day.”

  Inclining her head, Mom gave Chase a withering glance. “What is your name again, young man?”

  “Chase Watkins, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Chase, I understand that you mean well, but perhaps you’ll spread the word to your other roommates that Kinsley doesn’t need any extra visitors on family day other than her father and I. I’m certain you understand that she is going to Willow Creek in order to heal. A bit of distance from certain … environments will do her some good.”

  “Mom!” I exclaimed, shocked she would insinuate that my roommates were part of the reason for my condition.

  “I think it’d do her a world of good to see everyone she cares about on family day,” Dad interjected, pointedly ignoring my mother’s venomous glare. “I’ll see you then, Chase.”

  Poor Chase seemed to not know what to say or do when caught between my parents, but managed to worm his way out of the situation. With a smile and shake of my dad’s hand, he nodded.

  “Thank you, sir. You guys drive safe.”

  Taking that as his chance to exit, he retreated to the kitchen, leaving me feeling like an injured, bleeding swimmer between two circling sharks.

  Turning to face Dad, Mom folded her hands in front of her and heaved a heavy sigh. “Do you have to go against everything I say?”

  Rolling his eyes, Dad moved for the door, toting my luggage. “Not everything is an affront to your authority, Amala. These kids are Kinsley’s friends; they’ve lived together for years. Of course they should come visit!”

  Trailing me and Dad to the car, the sound of my mom’s heels clicking on the pavement resounded, mingling with the noises of students coming and going on foot, by bike, and by car.

  “I’m only saying that, as usual, you made a decision which undermined mine, without even giving me the courtesy of a private conversation. Your opinion isn’t the only one that matters, and you could have at least given me the courtesy—”

  “Oh, you mean the same as you gave me?” he snapped, tossing my suitcase in the trunk of his car and slamming it shut. “Wait … there was no courtesy. There was only you, once again, speaking for us both without giving me the courtesy of even having an opinion.”

  Sliding into the front passenger seat to keep them apart, I dropped my purse into my lap and fished out my phone and ear buds. Those two had my head hurting, and my fingers itching, and I needed to drown them out, pronto. As I cranked up the volume and closed my eyes, I focused on the soulful voice of Kimbra and sighed with contentment. Aside from Kimbra’s voice, there was nothing else I could hear beyond my earbuds, which would make the four-hour car trip to Willow Creek far more tolerable.

  It was baffling to me how two people who claimed to have once loved each other could turn out to become mortal enemies. At the rate they were going, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them on the six o’clock news. I chuckled to myself, imagining Nancy Grace’s forceful tone as she leaned toward the camera and bellowed, “Bombshell tonight! Management analyst and financial guru bludgeons ex-husband to death with a calculator! Details after the break.”

  What happened to the people I’d grown up with? It was hard to reconcile this version of them with the couple who had met in London while Dad was stationed there with the Air Force and Mom was there finishing up college. T
hat an East Indian woman had been willing to follow an American back across the world, where she knew no one, proved their love. Yet, you’d be hard pressed to find any evidence of that love now.

  Glancing over at my dad, I could see his mouth moving. Judging by his expression, he still argued with Mom. Looking away, I closed my eyes again and did my best to ignore the tension in the car.

  At some point I fell asleep, jolted to wakefulness twice when we stopped for gas and food. I ordered a taco salad bowl at our food stop, and ate around pretty much everything except the lettuce, discarding the rest in the paper bag. If my dad noticed that I neglected dressing, meat, cheese, and other assorted toppings, he didn’t mention it. When I woke again, we were pulling in front of Willow Creek.

  A twinge of anxiety squeezed my chest as I exited the car, staring up at the massive building. Stark white with plate glass windows, the facility stretched up four floors. On the ground level, large floor-to ceiling windows and glass doors gave a glimpse at the stark lobby. As Dad retrieved my luggage, I spied a fenced-off area to the left of and a bit behind the building holding a paved running track, as well as basketball and tennis courts. For the moment they remained empty, but that could be because it was four p.m. in Texas with summer approaching. Sweat was already breaking out over my brow and I had been standing outside less than a minute.

  Once my things were unloaded, we began the walk across the parking lot. I tried not to dwell on the fact that arriving here felt too much like turning myself in for prison. There were no bars or gates, no armed guards. Dr. Brown had told me that my confinement here was voluntary; I could leave at any time. Still, as my dad held the door open for me and Mom, I became overcome with a sense of panic. You would have thought I was being led to the gas chamber.

  A pretty receptionist with blonde hair and sharply contrasting red lipstick smiled at us when we walked in.