by Leanne Davis
Nate shook his head. He squatted closer to Tracy. “I don’t know exactly. But I think it’s her coping mechanism. Like when she got that B+? She flipped out, but she tried to act like she didn’t. Yet I sensed so much more going on inside of her. I didn’t understand it would be this extreme, but I felt like there was more to how she copes with stress. For example she’s grown obsessive about Tommy and his getting off with raping Kylie.”
“I know she talks about it a lot and has considered switching to pursuing criminal law someday. But obsessive? No, I didn’t know that. Kylie’s rape hurt all of us. I didn’t realize it made Ally obsessive, however.” Tracy shook her head, staring down at her lap. “What is wrong with her?”
“I don’t think there is something inherently wrong with Ally. She has a problem, obviously. But she isn’t tainted or ruined. She’s a nearly perfect student, soon to be graduating college. She’ll go on to have a brilliant career, God, I swear, if anyone could be a Supreme Court judge someday, it’s your daughter. She’s beautiful and brilliant and funny and caring and she loves all of you to the point of suffocation. She isn’t tainted. She’s just got an eating problem…” His voice faded as he added, “Nothing will change that about her, not even this.” He waved at the strange collection of wrappers and boxes that he knew she had consumed in recent weeks and then expelled from her body. He was sure, using any means necessary.
Vickie nodded, her eyes growing big during his outburst. “Yes, yes, Nate is right. She is. She’s just got a problem. Like all of us. We all have something we need to work on. She will survive this, with your love and help. You’re good at handling problems, Tracy. Why do you think I want you raising my daughter?”
Tracy shook her head. “I don’t…”
“She calls you Mom when I’m not around. I’m not stupid. I know she does. It’s okay, Tracy. She needs you. You make up for what I lack.”
Tracy sucked in snot and air, wiping her eyes as she slowly climbed onto her feet. “It just shocked me. This…” She waved at the garbage near her feet. “This almost destroyed me, to be honest. Even with Kylie, I always suspected things. I didn’t know exactly what. It used to gnaw away at my guts and give me anxiety. But Ally? I just never…”
“None of us did,” Vickie agreed.
“No. I didn’t either,” Nate added.
Tracy glanced at Vickie. “I’m sorry about the mom thing. We tried to break her of it, but she refuses.”
Vickie shrugged. “Julia loves you, and me. It’s okay. I set that up when she was just a baby. Look at us, Trace. We found a working solution to a very odd and problematic situation. You’ll do the same with and for Ally.”
Tracy nodded just as the door slammed. Nate was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He turned towards Ally and his heart nearly sunk into his stomach.
Ally’s eyes grew big and surprised when she spotted him. “Nate? Hi. How did you get in here?”
Then she walked forward, leaning closer to kiss his mouth in a soft touch of lips. He let her. Touching her arm, he held her for a moment too long, trying to delay the inevitable. But he knew that once she realized what this was… what happened… what they knew… she might very well never kiss him again. “I’m sorry,” he barely breathed into her ear as his mouth grazed over it.
Her neck muscles jerked and her face inched back until her eyes could find his. Her mouth opened, no doubt to ask “for what?” when she suddenly whipped around. She noticed her mom and Vickie, but most telling of all the bags, her bags strewn on the floor by their feet.
Chapter Eleven
DIZZINESS FILLED ALLY’S HEAD and her eyes were blurry. Black pinpricks seemed to obfuscate her clear eyesight. No. Just no. Her brain refused to register what was happening. Perhaps, if she willed it away, she wouldn’t have to face it. Like the time Nate saw her throwing up, she managed to just go on like nothing happened. Nothing occurred. Nothing was wrong with her.
But her mom was standing there with tears in her eyes and… and the wrapper-filled grocery bags at her feet.
“I’m sorry.” Nate’s shockingly soft and sincere words echoed through her brain. Sorry? For what? Then she knew. In one second flat, all the pieces came together and she knew.
Shutting her eyes, she grabbed the door handle so she didn’t fall over and drew in a long, deep breath. She opened her eyes, pushing a hank of hair behind her ear, and letting the long strands graze her shoulder. Calm. She had to be remain calm. Even while her brain chanted maniacally over and over: They know. They know. They fucking know.
How and why, as well as other questions concerning the oddities of the situation, paled in comparison to the panic that instantly consumed her.
She rushed forward. No. They shouldn’t have looked inside the bags. They were hers. Her souvenirs. The evidence of her weakness, her strength, her need, her desire, but mostly, her accomplishment. Falling to her knees, Ally began stuffing all the stray wrappers, boxes, and plastic containers into the three plastic grocery bags. She planned to put them away. And keep them hidden. Out of sight. Then they could all forget this whole incident. They could just pretend it didn’t happen. And she was fine. Because she was fine. She really was. This little episode? Just a transient moment of stress. It wasn’t for them to see or know. How dare they enter her room and search it? The anger simmered under her indignation. How dare they?
I’m sorry. Nate’s words continued to repeat over and over in her brain. Did he know what she did? How did he find the evidence? Either he found them or her mom and Vickie, of all fucking people. But the details faded from her mind as her desperate desire to re-hide the evidence overtook her. She had to put it all back where it belonged immediately. That urge was just as fast and furious as the need to binge on food. Or spew it out.
Suddenly, there were hands on her shoulders. Gently, they oh-so-carefully pulled her upwards. She tried to shake them off and tears rolled over her cheeks. Startled at the wetness on her face, she wiped them. How annoying. They didn’t help or do anything to improve her current predicament. Her tears were useless. Only food could soothe, relax and fill her emptiness. It, alone, could nourish, sustain, and compel her in her eternal pursuit of perfection.
“Ally? Ally?” The second time, Nate’s tone was more insistent. “Ally, baby, let it go. Just let it go.”
Nate’s voice entered her stream of consciousness. His tone sounded so soft and gentle and caring. Almost like a light caress over her skin. His mouth was on her temple and his breath felt warm. Hearing his low voice so clearly in her ears, Ally blinked and tried to focus. Her reeling mind quit spinning. She blinked again and noticed she was surrounded by garbage. Slowly lifting her eyes, she saw her mom and her aunt crying as they silently watched her. She found Nate kneeling next to her, his hands stroking her, his face filled with kindness. Nate seemed so sad, like an adult dealing with a crying child who didn’t understand the gravity of a dire situation. A child too naïve to realize the tragedy she was witnessing. Ally slowly released the plastic wrap from her clenched fingers and the crinkling plastic was the only sound that filled the room.
Shaking now, and staring down at the floor, she whispered to Nate, “How did you know?”
“I saw you.”
She shut her eyes. He must have seen her that day. The day she learned about her sister’s rape. That was the biggest tragedy of the day, and of their lives now. Not this. Ally’s “disorder” was no more than a coping mechanism. A tried and true way to deal with it all. Sure, it wasn’t that common. And Nate and her mom and her sister and even her aunt would not have chosen it. But so what? It belonged to her. Who were they to judge? Or disapprove? Did they think she was a freak? What were they even doing here at her house and going through her stuff like that? It was her room. Her stuff. Her privacy. The realization that her privacy had been violated made her very angry. She began pushing Nate’s hands off her and jumped to her feet.
“How dare you come in here like this?” she screamed at everyone. Reac
hing over, she grabbed all the bags and rushed into the bathroom, needing to hide them from their critical eyes. The urge for complete privacy nearly overwhelmed Ally. It was far more stressful than their accusations and shocked faces. So what if she ate too much sometimes?
Grasping the doorknob, she slammed the bathroom door shut. She only wished that out of sight was out of mind with all of them. She faced the door for several long seconds. Finally, she released it and returned to the bedroom.
“I came in without your permission,” Tracy finally spoke up. “They came with me. I needed to know. I didn’t believe Nate…” Her mom sounded distraught. Ally recognized it as the same tone she used whenever she dealt with Kylie’s problems over the years. Kylie had plenty of crises and dramas, not including the things she hid from all of them. Kylie was so needy and broken that she constantly required her mother’s coddling and attention. It was not the voice her mom ever, not even once, used when addressing Ally. That’s because Ally was always so strong and in control. She was more like her mom’s friend than a daughter in need of mothering by Tracy. It had remained that way for years. And now she was reduced to being treated like her messed up sister? No, just no. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t the screw up. She wasn’t the one her mother had to be careful with how she talked and worded things.
Except that’s exactly how her mom was talking to her.
But no one knew anything. Not for real. So what if Ally had food wrappers? Ally nearly scoffed at their indignation. They had no knowledge of her behavior, whether she was throwing up or using laxatives. Ally didn’t have a strong compulsion to exercise, so there was no real change in her behavior that they could point to as confirmation of whatever they thought they knew. Ally took in a deep breath. They didn’t really know!
“I don’t know what Nate told you. But I’m fine, Mom. I sometimes stress eat. Duh! I’ve been pretty troubled lately, between Micah’s re-entry into our life and learning my little sister was raped by a guy I still see at school. And knowing he got off scot-free without being punished for his crime? Yes, I will admit that I felt highly stressed recently and that makes me eat too much sometimes. So sue me. It’s not a crime to overeat. I’m sure Nate’s worried I’ll end up becoming a fatty, but really, I won’t. It’s just a temporary condition.”
“It’s not temporary,” Nate replied before anyone else. “It’s not about eating too much or suffering from stress. It’s not nothing, Ally.”
God, if only they were alone. Her right eye started to twitch at the hateful words she wanted to use in her reply. How dare he? Digging her fingernails into her arm to keep her tongue from lashing out, Ally restrained her tirade and every vulgar word and description she could think of to hurl at him. She already had her mom in knots and needed to stay calm in order to keep her mom from comprehending what she saw.
“Mom. I’m sorry. But it’s just food. It’s not like I’m on drugs or anything. I just needed some form of relief. It’s been so hard. Kylie…”
Ally stepped forward as her mom’s arms wrapped around her. Surprised, Ally automatically hugged her back and her mom kissed her hair. Then she kissed her forehead. Ally relaxed her shoulders, cuddling into her mom’s embrace. Her mom actually believed her. Her mom shared the stress they had been living under. Only her mom and she understood the impact that Kylie had on their lives. Yes, it drained both of them of energy and felt tragic at times because they both loved Kylie so much. Ally felt her mom’s mouth right over ear, just like Nate’s had been earlier. Her mother’s voice was crystal clear when she said, “I love you so much, Ally. But I don’t believe a word you’re saying. You need help, sweetheart. Help that I’m going to get for you.”
Ally screamed out loud and pushed her mom away. Her sudden burst of energy seemed superhuman and the rage inside her flashed sharp and quick, like a lightning bolt, or a nuclear blast, or a fist to the jaw. She hadn’t been this angry since Micah left them. Her uncontrollable temper almost got her expelled from school years ago; and that was when it ended. She swore she’d never let anger flash like that through her again. It was too immense for her to control… and worst of all, it was totally unpredictable. NO! No, she had to restrain it. She could not allow herself to ever lose it again. It was miserable. It made her head ache and her stomach churn as her entire body shook and she felt like her veins were melting. NO! She couldn’t be that angry. And even if she was, no one could see it.
“I don’t need your help. Get out! Just fucking get out! I didn’t ask any of you over here. Get out!”
Turning away to rush into the bathroom and lock herself in, she was stopped when a foot in the doorway blocked her. She kicked the sneaker, recognizing it as Nate’s. She couldn’t budge it no matter how hard she kicked and slammed the door on him. She shrieked loudly, “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck YOU! I hate you, Nate. I hate you so much. I hope you die!”
Still, the stubborn sneaker didn’t move. She was staring at it, almost blinded by her fury and rage. She just couldn’t budge it, which made her shriek with frustration. Tears blurred her eyes and rolled down her face. Nate reached inside and wrapped her in his arms. Then he lifted her up and out of the bathroom. She resisted by struggling, twisting, and trying to shake him off. She cried and hissed and shrieked. She even spat in his face and attempted to dig her fingernails into his cheek.
“Ally, stop! Stop it!” The screech was as wild as her behavior. Tears rolled down her face. She glanced around. Tears ran down Vickie and her mom’s faces. Who spoke? Her mom? Vickie? Nate? Her emotionally aroused state made her ears echo and the voice sounded far away. As if she were in a tunnel, she was unable to hear anything but her own hard breathing, sobs, and shrieks.
Finally, Nate restrained her. That was only because he was so much bigger and stronger than she. Otherwise, he’d have stood no chance at controlling her. She hated him again. How dare he? All of this was his fault. She felt trapped against his chest, with her back to him and his arms totally encircling her, pinning her arms to her sides. Her breathing slowly regulated and she finally stopped fighting him.
In horror, she suddenly went limp, like a soggy, cooked noodle in his arms. Her humiliation immobilized her. She could not force her gaze to rise up and look around to witness the utter shock and repulsion that her mother, aunt, and boyfriend probably felt about her. She had never reacted like this before. And now she’d not just lost control but almost lost her mind. What had she just done? By behaving like this all she’d done is prove them right. She’d given them cause and reason to look more intimately into her life. It gave them fuel to believe Nate’s accusations. Damn it! This was why she usually controlled all her emotions and strove not to let them free. All they did was fuck everything up and let people see things they had no business seeing. Things like maybe needing to eat more than the average person when stressed.
But it wasn’t their business. It was hers! And now? Oh God, now they were going to take it all away from her. She wasn’t sure what hurt more, her family and Nate knowing, or the fact they’d most likely stop her from doing it. She slumped further into herself, clutching her stomach and hating all the things swirling inside her right then.
But stronger than all that, was the urge, the desire, the need to eat something. Anything. Now. She whimpered as the strong clutch of her need embraced her.
Chapter Twelve
NATE HELD UP HER suddenly wilting body in his arms. She nearly slid down the front of him as though she had no bones left. He glanced around the room, and the helplessness he felt almost made him fall flat on the ground in despair. Flexing his arms to hold her up better, he hadn’t expected anything like this out of Ally. Not the cool, calm, collected woman he knew over the last few years. She didn’t seem like a college freshman or sophomore or junior. She did not seem like a kid at all in the time Nate observed her. She acted more like a professor, hanging out with the rest of the students. She was definitely not an emotional, crying, angry or out-of-control girl like the one he now held, collapse
d and sagging in his arms.
Tracy stepped forward and Nate had a crushing, almost embarrassing desire to throw Ally at her and run out. He wished he could run away from the room, the apartment, and this girl. This scary girl with problems. If Nate could just release Ally to her mother, he could walk away. He wasn’t equipped to deal with that. It was way out of proportion to the relationship he shared with Ally. At this point, no one even knew about their relationship, except the very people in this room. So it wasn’t like Ally was a long term, serious girlfriend, or fiancée, or wife. She was just a girl he had a crush on for years. A girl he could have fallen in love with, or at least he thought he could, until all this happened.
“Oh, Ally, honey,” her mom murmured as she took Ally from him and embraced her. Tears. Crying, and more hugging. Nate was left standing there, so he crossed his arms over his chest, unsure of what to do next.
Tracy pushed back from Ally and tucked her hair behind her ears and shook her head. “You were so angry at first, when your dad left us. And then it just stopped. I thought you let it go then. I had no idea what you kept inside of you still.”
Tracy stroked Ally’s head and spoke the soothing tones of a comforting mother. Nate backed up and leaned against the wall, clearly at a loss for what to do with himself. Should he leave? Stay? Run? Talk? He glanced at Vickie for a clue, but she was too focused on Ally.
Her swearing, screaming, and the venom in her voice, when she said she wished he would die, puzzled him. Nate had no idea how to accept the things that flew out of Ally’s mouth. It didn’t fit her at all. She never got angry or lost control. She was as astonishing to Nate as a fish walking around a carnival. None of Ally’s history or her personality matched up to what he was now experiencing.
“What’s happening?” He glanced up when he heard Tabitha’s voice in the doorway. “I heard screaming. Ally?”
