Skinny Read online

  1. She could get a sandwich and a banana at lunch. She would eat just half of the sandwich.

  2. She would write down all of her homework assignments in one notebook, class by class, so she could gather all of the right books to take home from her locker and have a plan of attack after dinner.

  3. She would stretch extra long after dance practice so she wouldn’t pull any muscles. She couldn’t afford to get hurt now, not with officer tryouts approaching.

  Chapter Twelve

  Melissa got an A on her French paper, a 94 on her Algebra test, and successfully executed her lab in Chemistry. She placed a red check mark in her notebook next to “Chem Lab,” flipped the pen, slid the red plastic cap from the bottom, and replaced it firmly on the top. She slid the pen in the zippered pouch of her backpack, where she removed a green pen. She removed the lid, placed it on the bottom of the pen, and wrote, “Chem—Read Ch 18.” Her stomach growled. A hollow thud hit from inside. She told herself it was okay. In fact, the feeling excited her a little. She was on track and in charge. She only had one more class until lunch, and then she could eat a piece of fruit and half a turkey and tomato sandwich. Maybe today she’d buy an apple. Her mouth watered at the thought of the juicy sweet-mixed-with-tart flavor of the fruit. She replaced the green pen’s lid and zipped it safely in its home.

  Rrrriinng.

  “Class dismissed.” Mr. Dougherty smiled from behind his thin moustache.

  Melissa sucked in her stomach and strode out of the room.

  “Oops!” Running over her list of homework again in her head, she ran smack into someone. Tootsie Pops sounded like hailstones pelting pavement as they scattered across the tiled floor.

  “Sorry,” she pleaded without looking up as she dropped to her knees to salvage the suckers.

  “That’s all right,” came the familiar drawl.

  Beau. Melissa looked up. “Hey.” Her throat felt thick. Goosebumps tickled her arms. Her methodical manner melted. She dropped her gaze to the floor, not able to look into his soft brown eyes.

  “Let me help you, my lady,” Beau said with a fake bow. “What’s going on in that head that you don’t even see me?”

  “Sorry.” Melissa smiled and tilted her head. Her ponytail swooshed to the side. “How could I have not seen you? I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to get through all of this homework. Crazy.”

  “Me, too.” Beau slid the last chocolate lollipop into the cardboard box. “Between basketball and school I haven’t been able to breathe.”

  Melissa stood with him. “Yeah, at least it’s Friday.” She widened her eyes. Maybe he would ask her out. Maybe everything was okay after all. She had been immersed in officer tryouts and school. Beau could be just as busy.

  “Melissa . . .” Beau waited until she looked him in the eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  “It’s okay. Really. I’ve been buried, ya know? Officer tryouts, that French project, the Algebra exam. It’s been insane—good, but insane.”

  “Are you really trying out for officer?” Beau tapped her on the back.

  She felt like she’d swallowed an entire egg still in its shell. Melissa hadn’t meant to tell him. She could feel the pink creeping across her cheeks.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’m just doing it for fun. Underclassmen never make it. I just thought it would be great practice. You know? Then maybe next year or the year after I’d have a chance.”

  “I bet you could be captain.” He grinned.

  “Not likely.” Melissa rolled her eyes.

  “See you later.” Beau winked and turned down the hall to his next class.

  Melissa could not contain her smile. She floated the rest of the way to English, plopped into her chair, and grabbed a chocolate Tootsie Pop. She was pretty sure it was the one Beau had just touched. Before she realized what she was doing, she popped it in her mouth. She jumped and pulled the sucker from her lips. Then she reminded herself it was only sixty calories and no fat. Plus, Beau touched it. She pulled a quarter from her backpack and slid it in her candy envelope.

  At lunch the gang assembled at their normal table.

  Lindsey pulled up an orange plastic chair and wedged her way between Melissa and Gracie. “So, Mel, how many Tootsies have you sold?” Lindsey asked.

  “Almost two boxes since we got back from break, including the ones I’ve eaten.”

  “You don’t look like you’ve eaten any of them,” Gracie said between sips of juice. “You look model thin.”

  “Hardly.” Melissa shook her head.

  “I’m serious,” Gracie said.

  This should have been a compliment, but Melissa sensed something other than praise in Gracie’s voice.

  “So do y’all want to sleep over at my house tonight after the game?” Raven asked, her enormous brown eyes darting around the table.

  “For real?” shrieked Emma. “I’m in!”

  “Me too.” Melissa nodded. “If my folks let me.”

  “Of course they will.” Gracie elbowed her. “Drew has an away hockey game, so I’m in. We’ll all come!”

  Raven smiled, her ultra-white teeth shining between her stained brick red lips. “Mom said we could order pizza and bake brownies and rent the new movie with Jennifer Lawrence.”

  “I love her,” Emma mumbled with her mouth full of Cheetos.

  “She is gorgeous,” Lindsey agreed. “I think she needs to pluck her eyebrows though.”

  Melissa looked at Lindsey’s perfectly groomed brow line. “Only you, Linds, would even notice.”

  “I just don’t know how some of these movie stars get away with poor hygiene. If I had all that money, I’d get my teeth bleached and a spray-on tan.”

  “Maybe you should be a makeup artist,” suggested Gracie. “I never know which color is best for what.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty much a lip gloss and mascara girl.” Melissa shrugged.

  Lindsey scrolled her phone to Pinterest to show Melissa and Gracie the new Fabulous Fuscia nail polish she wanted.

  Melissa glanced at the inviting images, but her mind replayed her conversation with Beau in the hallway. He’d probably be the star of the game tonight. Did he say he would call her? She couldn’t remember.

  Chapter Thirteen

  And twist, twist, grab the box, and twist, twist, turn around, and twist, twist, HOLD, two, three, four.

  Melissa kicked her right leg in the air exactly one second after Jill next to her kicked her right leg, and then Stacey kicked her right leg exactly one second after Melissa did. The whole team landed in the splits in a beautiful ripple effect.

  Cheers and whistles came from the bleachers as the dance team held their pose with their chins up high and perfect smiles plastered on their faces.

  Tweet, tweet, tweet, tweet.

  The captain blew her whistle.

  Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.

  The dance team stood up together like soldiers, turned to face the basket, and marched out the side door, the heels of their saddle shoes slapping the gym floor.

  With her chin still pointed upward, out of her peripheral vision Melissa could see the players gathering around the bench. Beau’s dark curls contrasted sharply against the white uniforms, making him easy to spot. Careful not to stare or break stride, she continued marching until she was in the hallway. Once outside of the audience’s view, she tossed back her head and laughed. Blood rushed through her veins like a tidal wave. Was it adrenaline from dancing or from seeing Beau?

  Lindsey hugged her. “Whoo!”

  Jill walked by, gave a distinctly fake yawn, and pulled out her cell phone.

  “I’m starving! Let’s get something to eat.” Lindsey motioned to the concession stand.

  Melissa glimpsed her reflection in the sparkling glass of the trophy case as they walked past. She looked distorted and wide. Lindsey looked tiny and shiny.

  “I’ll come,” Melissa said, “but I’m saving room for pizza and brownies.”

  “Oh,
yeah.” Lindsey wiped sweat from her forehead with her hand. “Let’s just get a soda and find everyone.”

  Melissa was riveted to the action on the court while her friends gossiped about whether Princess Kate was pregnant again or not and discussed what kinds of brownies were their favorite.

  “The fudgier and gooier the better,” Emma offered, “but they go straight to my thighs.” She slapped her jeans where they pulled taught around the tops of her legs.

  “Well, we’re making them with chocolate chips and frosting.” Raven licked her lips.

  Beau made a three-pointer. Melissa shot to her feet and cheered. The rest of the girls stood and cheered too.

  “Why are we clapping?” Gracie whispered in Melissa’s ear.

  “Beau scored,” Melissa whispered back.

  “What’s with you two anyway?” Gracie asked as they sat back down.

  “Nothing much. We’ve both been so busy with basketball and officer tryouts and school and everything. You know, he’s great. He’s really great. But, it’s nothing. Ya know?” Melissa smiled.

  “Yeah, I know how nothing it is!” Gracie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

  After the game the girls walked across the parking lot to Raven’s parents’ van where Raven’s brother, Randy, already waited.

  “Mel, wait up,” Beau called from behind.

  Melissa turned around. Beau jogged toward her and stepped up on the concrete bike rack.

  “Great game,” she managed.

  “Thanks.”

  She waited. Would he ask her out for tomorrow?

  Beau lowered his head. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Lindsey winked at Melissa.

  “Let’s head to the van, gals,” Gracie chirped.

  Raven led the way.

  “Hey, ladies, want a lift?” Randy called from the van window.

  “Don’t take too long, lovebirds.” Emma elbowed Beau on her way past.

  “What’s up?” Melissa’s heart raced. She sensed something was wrong. She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say yet at the same time was riveted to every Southern syllable that came out of his mouth.

  “Like I said in the hall, I . . . I . . . I’m just sorry I haven’t called. I really am.” Beau ruffled his hair with his right hand. “I just have so much homework and Coach is on me all the time.” He looked up from the metal rungs used to lock bikes and met her forced smile. “I really like you, Mel.”

  Something was wrong. Melissa felt a queer shiver like when she ate ice cream too fast.

  “I really like you, too.” She willed her hands to stay at her sides so she couldn’t bite her nails.

  “But, well, with basketball and having to make grades and everything . . . well, Mom and Dad think I shouldn’t date right now.” Beau spoke to the ground.

  He meant date her. At least he could look her in the eyes. Melissa felt like someone was stabbing her heart. An ache deep and sharp hit her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

  Beep, beep.

  Raven’s van pulled up alongside them.

  “Looks like you’re wanted.” Beau nodded toward the van.

  “Yeah, a slumber party at Rave’s.” Melissa bit her lip to hold back tears.

  “Sounds dangerous.” Beau laughed a hollow laugh. “Have fun with your friends.”

  “Always.” Melissa turned and yanked the van’s door open. What she wanted to say but couldn’t was, “I’d rather be with you.” That was one of the things. But there were so many more.

  Her throat burned. Her heart felt like a balloon ready to pop out of her chest. Her eyes ached as she strained not to cry. As she pulled the door shut, Beau waved from the parking lot. “Melissa, I’m sorry.” His voice lingered as the door slammed.

  How could he end it like that?

  “What was that all about?” Gracie rested her French-manicured fingers on Melissa’s thigh.

  Melissa shook her head back and forth. She couldn’t speak. The corners of her eyes boiled with tears.

  “Gracie, pass me that CD,” Emma boomed, reaching her arm in front of Melissa’s face.

  Tears slid silently. Melissa hoped it was dark enough in the backseat that no one could see. She was embarrassed. What would her friends think if they knew Beau had broken up with her? If she wasn’t good enough for him, she probably wasn’t good enough for them either. Squished on both sides by warm bodies and surrounded by the boom of her favorite companion, music, Melissa couldn’t remember feeling more alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Melissa pushed her angst way down inside of her. She stomped on her pain and decided to live it up. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten crazy and pigged out with her friends. She wanted to ignore the pit in her stomach.

  She gobbled handfuls of chocolate chips while baking brownies with her friends. She laughed at Gracie’s story about how her brother, Tanner, had started shaving and had held the razor the wrong way. She scarfed down three pieces of Papa Paulo’s pepperoni. Melissa couldn’t remember being this famished. She had become so regimented with her diet that she ate what she was supposed to eat when she was supposed to eat it, according to her rules, without regard to hunger. But now she felt completely empty, like there wasn’t enough food to fill her hollow void.

  She jammed to the new One Republic song Raven had put on and gobbled four brownies still warm from the oven.

  She was almost feeling normal again until she went to the bathroom. The girl she saw in the mirror was ugly. She was hurt. She was sad. Maybe it was Beau’s parents, but maybe this was his way of dumping her gently. Did he want his pin back? He hadn’t asked for it. He hadn’t exactly explained what he meant by “shouldn’t date right now” either. They didn’t actually go on lots of dates.

  Melissa tried to think about something she was in control of—something good.

  Dance team? Captain audition practices were a disaster. Jill was evil.

  School? It was a drain. Her workload was overwhelming, and she still hadn’t pulled up her Chemistry grade.

  Why had she eaten so much? As if devouring a lot of junk was going to make her feel better. Now she only felt worse. Melissa touched her stomach. It seemed to expand like a loaf of bread dough set out to rise.

  She wished she could get rid of all the disgusting feelings inside of her. She wanted to get rid of the stress and the uncertainty. She wanted to undo whatever had caused things to go wrong with Beau. She wanted to take back all of the pizza and brownies.

  Before she knew what she was doing, Melissa kneeled on the fuzzy periwinkle bath mat in Raven’s bathroom. She reached behind her and looped the end of her ponytail into her ponytail holder, creating a bun. She examined the index and middle fingers of her right hand as they formed a peace sign. Her fingernails, jagged from biting, scratched the back of her throat.

  “Agh,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut.

  She couldn’t stop now.

  She jammed her fingers down her throat farther.

  Cuugghkk! She coughed, expelling her fingers, which were hot and moist. She hoped her friends couldn’t hear her, hoped the music was loud enough to drown this out.

  Again, Melissa leaned over. This time a hot gush filled her throat, sweet and sour and acidic. She removed her fingers and peeked in the toilet. Not a lot, but at least she had gotten rid of something.

  Her eyes watered.

  Melissa leaned back, disappointed. She had hoped to feel more triumphant, more in control, but she couldn’t even make herself puke very well.

  Then a surge rose in her throat. This time she couldn’t control the hot mucousy bile. It overflowed out of her mouth and through her nose like the baking soda mixture out of her volcano science experiment in third grade.

  The gagging made her eyes water, and her mascara smeared down her cheeks. Her fingers were covered with thick brown goop. She inhaled. She had to clean herself up. No one could know what she had done.

  L
ike a robot, Melissa stood and turned the left faucet knob on high. She grabbed a wad of toilet paper and blew the remaining goo from her nose. She squirted a silver dollar–size dollop of soap in her left palm and began to lather with the hot water. She scrubbed her hands and arms up to her elbows. Then she scrubbed her face, erasing all traces of tears and vomit.

  God, please don’t let them know. Please don’t let my friends know what I just did. Please make them still like me. I need someone to like me.

  She smelled her hands. They smelled like the piña colada soap Mrs. Mack stocked in all the soap dispensers. That smell always made her think of Raven. She loosened her hair and let it fall down on her shoulders. She took a deep breath. She was ready, but she was sure her breath smelled like vomit.

  Melissa meandered past the kitchen counter, where she grabbed a stick of gum from her purse and popped it in her mouth. The sharp taste of artificial sweetener almost made her gag again, but she knew the mint would help overpower the scent of her sin.

  “Yeah, what’s wrong with her anyway?” Emma’s voice stung Melissa’s ears.

  “Things did not look good with Beau,” Lindsey said. “I think she needs eyeliner and maybe a fitted sweater. She needs to make him want her.”

  “Give her a break, guys.” Gracie’s words hung in the air as the girls sensed Melissa’s return. The sudden hush from her friends affirmed the “her” they were talking about. She bit her lip and forced a smile.

  “Lindsey, I was hoping you could give me one of your famous makeovers.” Melissa winked, pretending she hadn’t heard them. “I figured I needed to wash away the old me so you could create a beauty queen.”

  Lindsey squealed with delight and pulled out her makeup kit.

  “I’ve been dying to, Yellow.”

  Melissa flopped down onto the couch and chomped her gum. “I’m all yours, Linds.”

  “Well, which one?” Lindsey squeaked, holding up two eyeliners.

  “Oh, whatever, how about blue?”

  “How daring of you, Melissa. You’re normally a more conservative girl.” Lindsey grinned giddily.