Thin

by Alicia Michaels

  With tears in my eyes and a huge smile on my face, I had launched myself at her, throwing my arms around her neck. She’d stiffened for a moment in surprise, but eventually hugged me back, holding tight for a long while.

  “Thank you, Mom. I promise, I’ll make you proud of me.”

  Taking my face in her hands, she had smiled at me. “I already am.”

  Royce’s voice brought me back to the present. “No boyfriend this time?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Aaron isn’t really my boyfriend anymore. I didn’t set you straight before because I was pissed. We broke up, but he wants to get back together and … well, it’s complicated.”

  With a scoff, he shook his head. “I get the feeling nothing is ever simple with you.”

  I laughed, nudging him with my foot. “Hey, he broke up with me.”

  “Yeah, because he’s insane.”

  Glancing up at him, I found that he seemed to regret his words the instant he’d said them.

  “I thought you were going to stop saying that kind of stuff to me.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t seem to help myself, apparently.”

  “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.

  Standing, he replaced the stool he’d borrowed. “That’s exactly why.”

  Turning to leave, he strode toward the door. Pausing with one hand on the knob, he turned back to look at me.

  “Kinsley, this guy … I don’t know him, but I think I’ve come to know you. I know I don’t really have a right to interfere in any aspect of your life, but I can tell you this. If you leave here and decide to go back to him, just be sure it’s what you want. I only say that because just now, you mentioned what he wants, without offering any perspective on your own needs. For those of us in recovery, the relationships we engage in are so important. Whatever you decide in the end, just make sure it’s a decision which won’t compromise who you are, who you’ve become, or who you want to be.”

  With that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the studio. I listened to his footsteps as they receded down the hall, heard the sound of the elevator coming and going.

  After a while I turned back to the canvas, though for a long time I simply continued studying it in silence. I traced the lines and curves I’d begun on the white canvas. A sudden idea occurred to me—a way I could approach this project a bit differently. Taking down the canvas, I went to find a fresh one so I could begin from scratch.

  As I took paint to the canvas, my hands seemed to take on a life of their own.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four weeks later …

  “So, tomorrow’s the big day,” Dr. Iverson said, his face appearing even younger than usual due to the big smile on his face. “Are you excited?”

  Shrugging, I smiled back at him. “I don’t know about excited. Nervous, maybe.”

  He nodded, adjusting his glasses when they slipped down his nose. “That’s perfectly normal. After being closeted away for three months, you should feel uneasy about re-entering society. But I hope you feel a bit more prepared than before.”

  I nodded. “I think so.”

  “Don’t forget your resources. The folder I gave you has some info on great group therapy programs in your area, and my card is in there, too, if you ever need to talk one-on-one. You’ve got your prescriptions, and I’m certain a wealth of techniques you learned in group. I think you’re prepared.”

  Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at the material he’d given me. I felt as prepared as one does on the first day of school. You have all your supplies, so you’re technically ready, yet you enter that building without knowing what will really happen. Will you get good teachers? Will you embarrass yourself at some point during the semester in front of your entire class? Will the boy you like notice you?

  “Where are you going from here?” he asked. “You have quite a few choices, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Chloe, Jenn, Luke, and Chase offered to let me live with them as long as I need. Kara is still in our on-campus apartment, and has found some new roommates for next semester, but left a spot for me if I need it. My mom offered to take me home until I’m ready to go back to school if I want. And of course, there’s Aaron’s offer …”

  Nodding, he braced his chin on his palm and stared at me over his frames. “Well?”

  Shrugging, I fought not to break his gaze. This was my last session and I didn’t want to discuss how uncertain I still felt about Aaron.

  “I think I may go to my mom’s for a while. We have a lot to discuss concerning my education. I don’t think I’ll be ready to begin again in the fall, so I have a bit more time to decide where I’ll be come January.”

  Dr. Iverson’s expression indicated approval. “You’re taking things slow. I think that’s a good decision for now. You’ve accomplished so much so quickly, but as we’ve discussed before, too much change too fast isn’t good for ongoing recovery. Whatever decisions you make going forward, I wish you all the best. For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to go on to do some amazing things.”

  Standing, he offered me his hand. Bypassing the gesture, I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck for a hug.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”

  Patting my back, he sniffed as if becoming emotional. “No need to thank me. It was my pleasure.”

  After taking up my folder, I left Dr. Iverson’s office, on my way to the medical floor for my final examinations. I had to do another EKG and bone density exam before I was clear to leave in the morning. After that, I could pack and relax for the rest of the evening. I found the halls flooded, as the first group therapy sessions of the day were letting out. Spotting Royce lingering near one of the doors, I approached him.

  After the day Dawn had been taken to the hospital, we’d stopped avoiding each other. There were no more late nights together in the art studio, as he’d stopped showing up. However, when we saw each other, we were cordial, if not a bit strained. He’d been keeping up with Dawn’s progress and updating me as he received news.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile. “I hear you’re leaving us tomorrow.”

  Leaning against the wall, I held the folder over my chest. “Mom and Dad will be here for me in the morning.”

  “Good,” he replied, turning to face me and bracing his shoulder against the wall as well. “You look … wow, you look amazing, Kinsley. Like a different person.”

  Remembering his past words, I lowered my gaze and fought against the heat flaring in my face.

  You’re beautiful.

  I wondered what he thought of me now, thirteen pounds heavier, with my skin returned to its usual coppery brown glow, and my hair thick and shiny because of my healthier diet.

  “I feel different,” I said. “I wanted to thank you. Even though you were only my counselor for a little while, you really had an impact. Jessica doesn’t do journal assignments, but I still write in my notebook almost every day. I plan to continue doing it after I leave.”

  “I’m happy to hear that,” he said. “Anything I can do to help.”

  “An update on Dawn would be nice,” I replied.

  “Oh yeah.” He smacked his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten something. “She called me yesterday to tell me she’s being released from the hospital. Over the last few weeks they’ve been working to get her back used to eating solids. It was rough going there for a while, but she says she gained three pounds and can tolerate lots of different foods.”

  My chest squeezed painfully, and I felt myself tearing up, both with sadness and joy. It hurt to know she’d spiraled so low, but I was happy she had begun clawing her way back.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “There’s a facility closer to her folks in Dallas,” he replied. “She’s checking in today. Their regimen is a bit stricter than ours, and no visitors are allowed. It’s a six-month treatment, but she has high hopes for it.”

  “I’ll have to pay her a
visit in six months then,” I said. “I want to give her my gift.”

  Royce grinned, and I knew he was thinking of the painting I’d finished just last week. Joy had been surprised to see that I’d changed the direction of my self-portrait, but had understood once I explained to her my reasons. The canvas hung in my room now, along with the others, ready to go home with me. I’d told Joy that this one needed to come with me. While she would have loved to display it in her studio, she’d been understanding about my need to give it to Dawn. Split down the middle, the canvas displayed both mine and Dawn’s faces as one face with a jagged gap renting us both in half. The piece had been my way of expressing just how alike we were, how much her recovery had become an important part of mine. I’d painted Dawn as I saw her—with mischievous blue eyes, and a sarcastic little smirk. I’d decided she should have the painting, so that she could see herself the way I did … the way I wanted to start seeing myself.

  “Speaking of which,” he said, bringing me back to the present. “I have a gift for you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You do?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Before you leave in the morning, meet me in the studio. I’ll have it there.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “See you tomorrow?”

  Royce’s expression became serious, his mouth pinching in to a grim line. He nodded in agreement, then moved on, leaving me behind.

  I knew he didn’t want to say what I’d been thinking … that tomorrow would likely be the last time we saw each other. While I should have been bursting at the seams with joy to put Willow Creek behind me, in way I felt as if I was losing something important. As much as I knew that it needed to happen, I still found myself mourning the loss—even if it was the loss of something I’d never really had.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Morning came faster than I’d imagined it would. Almost too fast. I woke up to Sheila’s smiling face, offering my last dose of vitamins as a patient at Willow Creek.

  “I would say I hope to see you again,” she began, giving me a tight hug. “But that’s not true. I actually hope I never see you again.”

  “You won’t,” I promised with a smile. “You guys took such good care of me here, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that.”

  Swiping at a tear, she gave me a nod. “I think you’re right. Take care of yourself, honey.”

  I took my time getting dressed and inspecting the room for the last of my things. I slid the framed photo of me and my friends into the front pocket of my suitcase, then took down my body image poster, rolling it carefully and placing it on top of the standing bag.

  I had a little time before my parents arrived to eat breakfast and meet Royce, so I hustled to the dining hall. I found Derek sitting there, with a modest breakfast consisting of an omelet and two pieces of toast.

  “Hey, girl,” he said as I took my place across from him. “Today’s the day, huh?”

  “For both of us,” I reminded him with a smile.

  After seeing what had happened to Dawn, Derek had opted to stay another month at Willow Creek. It’d made a huge difference in him, prompting him to take recovery more seriously. He had lost eleven pounds, was eating a balanced diet, and actually trying to exercise instead of goofing off in the gym.

  “I don’t want to die,” he’d said to me the day after Dawn had been carried away in an ambulance. “I’ve barely started living.”

  He was due to leave the day after me, and had promised to keep in touch with both me and Dawn.

  “Do you think we’ll be okay?” he asked after a moment of silent chewing. “I mean, it’s easier to do things the right way in here, isn’t it?”

  “It’ll be harder out there,” I agreed. “But I have faith in us. We won’t be perfect, but we’ll be better than we were.”

  Seeming to think that over for a moment, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  After finishing our breakfast, we said our tearful good-byes before parting ways—him to finish packing, and me to say my final good-byes. I found Joy in the art studio, murmuring in hushed tones with a student. The two stood before a half-finished canvas which looked as if it was coming along nicely. She wished me luck in my recovery, as well as my impending years studying art.

  “Royce wanted me to tell you that he’s in there,” she said, gesturing toward the sculpture room.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, my palms breaking out into a sweat as I made my way toward the half-open door.

  I found him in his usual place, wearing his leather apron, gloves, and goggles, bent over some piece of machinery with a hunk of metal taking shape in is hands. Not wanting to distract him, I leaned against the doorway and waited, watching him work. Sparks flew as he shaped the metal, his brow furrowed, biceps bunching and rolling. After a while, he paused, pushing his tool aside. As he reached for another, I cleared my throat, gaining his attention.

  Whipping is goggles off, he gave me a grim look. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “I wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye,” I replied.

  Crossing the little room toward me, he picked something up on his way. When he extended it to me, he avoided my gaze. “I made this for you. A little something to remind you how far you’ve come.”

  I took the small sculpture with both hands, my mouth falling open as my eyes caressed its lines and curves. The piece was small enough to display on a bookshelf or end table, but struck me as deeply as if he’d made it ten feet tall. It was a 3-D replication of the first painting I’d created in this studio—a mass of twisting black and gray shapes, with one red ribbon threading through it in sharp contrast.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said after a moment. “I took photos of your painting as you worked, then drew it how I imagined it might look at different angles and executed it. I started on it here, and finished it off in my home studio.”

  Glancing up at him, I clutched the little sculpture to my chest. “Royce … it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his apron and shrugged one shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  An awkward silence ensued, until I found myself fidgeting. It seemed neither of us knew what to do with our last minutes together. He ground his teeth, causing his jaw to flex and move beneath his skin.

  How did one say good-bye to their ex-counselor who they had a crush on, but knew they shouldn’t, even if he reciprocated the feelings?

  Apparently, by turning it into an incredibly awkward situation.

  “Well, I’m going to go,” I said. “My parents are probably here.”

  He nodded, still avoided my gaze. “Okay.”

  I backed away, taking my time. Who knew why I was moving so slowly, and watching him as if waiting for something. I couldn’t even tell myself what I was waiting for. Just as I turned to walk out, his gaze snapped up and locked on me. But I couldn’t go back. It was time to move forward.

  It was time to go home.

  When I arrived in the lobby downstairs, the last person I expected to find waiting for me was Aaron. I faltered near the elevators, dropping the three canvases clenched beneath one arm and losing my grip on my rolling suitcase. Gazing behind him, I searched for my parents, but found only his car idling on the curb. My pulse fluttered, and my heart hammered in my chest at the sight of him. He looked immaculate in a pair of jeans and crisply ironed button-up shirt. The perfect edges of his hair indicated a fresh cut, and his face had been smoothly shaven just this morning.

  The elevator doors dinged and began to close, but shuddered and paused, backtracking as the sensors found me in the way. Snapping out of my stupor, I knelt to retrieve my dropped canvases. His scent overwhelmed me when he appeared at my side, kneeling to help me.

  “Hey, you,” he said with a smile, taking up the canvases and tucking them beneath one arm.

  I stood and wheeled my bag out of the elevator, allowing the doors to close behind me. Aaron looped an arm around my waist and yanked me aga
inst his body, aiming his lips at mine. I stiffened, turning my head before I could think about what I was doing. His kiss skimmed my cheek, and he gave me a puzzled look.

  “Nice to see you, too,” he joked, though I could see confusion in his gaze. “Sorry to shock you like this, but when your mom called me and said you were due home today, I begged to be the one to pick you up.”

  I forced a smile. “I’m just surprised, is all. I’m happy to see you.”

  “Are you ready?” he asked, already walking across the lobby with my canvases. “Your parents are going to meet us in Austin in two weeks to take you back to Louisiana … that is, unless I can talk you out of going.”

  Left with no choice but to follow, I dragged my suitcase behind me, trailing Aaron to his car. I stood by silently as he loaded my things into the trunk, then rounded to the passenger side to open the door for me. I slid onto the leather seat, glancing numbly at the dashboard as he made his way back to the driver’s side. Once inside and buckled up, he opened the glove box and produced something small and black. I recognized it as my phone.

  “I figured you’d want this back ASAP.”

  When I accepted the phone, I found it fully charged. “Thanks.”

  Discovering I had several unread texts, missed calls, and notifications, I quickly darkened the screen and lowered the phone to my lap. Resting my head against the back of the seat, I closed my eyes. Catching up with everyone was too much for right now. I needed to take this one step at a time, and for that moment, this meant getting home.

  But … where was home?

  4C was still an option, because Kara was there. However, I didn’t plan to start back in school until later. Did I want to move in with Aaron? It was something I hadn’t let myself consider while at Willow Creek.

  Aaron’s hand on my thigh snapped me out of my wandering thoughts. “You look amazing,” he murmured. “Just like the Kinsley I remember.”