Out of Breath (Exposed Series Book 2) Read online

  She leaned her elbow on the window ledge and rested her chin in her hand.

  “If you’re going to help me, does that mean I don’t have to go see Nadine again?”

  “Who’s Nadine?”

  “The shrink my Mom made me go to after she found out.”

  “Was talking to her helpful?”

  “I don’t know,” Kate said out the window. “I didn’t really like it. She made me feel crazy.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t think she’s a bad person or anything, though.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’m just trying to be honest,” she said. “Cause I want to stay with you. And that’s the rule.”

  I was glad she thought my asking for honesty was reasonable and fair. Which reminded me. It was time I tell Carol what was really going on.

  Chapter 3: Kate

  I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t binge and purge after eating McDonald’s. I must have been in junior high. After all, I’d considered eating fast food a one way, nonnegotiable ticket straight to gorge town ever since I started making myself sick Freshman year.

  But Dawn didn’t give me the opportunity.

  It wasn’t like she was stalking me like my Mom did. It was just that her apartment was literally too small for me to disappear into the bathroom unnoticed. Plus, there wasn’t even any food to binge on. In fact, shortly after we got back from breakfast, she realized how bare her cabinets were and suggested we go to the grocery store together so I could pick out some things I liked.

  We went to the regular grocery store where single people that meal plan and budget go. Not Costco where my Mom shopped, where things came in packages so big you could eat two pounds of Cheez-Its before you even made a dent in the box.

  I tried to think of a few foods I liked because I appreciated her going out of her way to get me some things. But it was weird. I didn’t know what I liked anymore. I mean, I knew what foods I liked to binge on.

  In fact, I could probably organize a special grocery store just for bulimics…

  When you walked in, there wouldn't be produce. Instead, there would just be lots of carbohydrates. Bagels, donuts, potato chips, cookies, pies, cakes, Pop Tarts, and cupcakes would be stacked everywhere. There would be an aisle just for chocolate and peanut butter and an aisle with juice and soda. The cereal aisle could stay just as it was. So could the frozen food section.

  After all, nothing beat binging while the next round of food cooked itself. So pizza, french fries, Hot Pockets, and Eggos would all get plenty of shelf space. Oh -and Toaster Strudels! Ughh. I mean, seriously, why do those come in packs of two when they are so flaky and delicious? And why don't all foods come with their own packet of icing? Anyway, finally, there would have to be a large dairy section devoted to foods that were cooling on the throat. Like milk and ice cream.

  But I knew that wasn’t what Dawn wanted to hear. She wasn’t asking me what foods I liked to eat and throw up. She was asking me what foods I liked to eat and keep down.

  The answer? Nothing.

  As far as I was concerned, food was the enemy, and it was hard to admit liking any of it enough to let it pass through my system. I mean, I had been obsessing about breakfast every minute since I swallowed my last bite. All I could think about was the fact that I was absorbing around eight hundred calories of biscuit, hash brown, and OJ.

  “Surely there are some things you like to snack on?” she asked again as she pushed the cart around the store.

  “Baby carrots?” I said, having learned the hard way that they were much easier to keep down than the alternative.

  “With hummus?”

  “Ehh.”

  “I love hummus,” she said, putting it in the cart. “What else?”

  “Grapes.”

  “Green or red?”

  “Green?”

  “Nice,” she said, placing a bunch in the cart. “Me, too. Have you ever tried freezing them? Amazing.”

  I clasped my hands behind my back as I watched her count and bag tomatoes.

  To be honest, I was excited at the prospect of not having access to binge foods or a place where I could binge. I was also completely terrified. Sure I’d made it a few hours, but I wasn’t better. The tapeworm (had she seriously called it that?!) was still niggling at me the whole time I was in the store.

  Like if I’d been by myself, I would’ve bought the French Silk Pie we’d passed in the bakery section and eaten the whole thing. Then I would have gotten rid of the evidence before going home to get rid of the pie. Maybe Dawn was right. Maybe there was a monster inside me.

  “You know you don’t have to get just healthy stuff,” she said as she turned down the snack aisle. “There must be something you like as a special treat.”

  I looked around.

  “Personally, I’ve been trying to go easy on processed foods lately, but I cannot live without Honey Braided Twists.”

  “The pretzels?”

  She nodded.

  “Those are nice.”

  “So that’s my pick,” she said, grabbing them off the shelf. “Your go.”

  For a moment, I felt paralyzed by the overwhelming array of colors and chip shapes. No matter where I looked, I saw foods I didn’t trust myself to eat in moderation, snacks that were just too… moreish.

  Sensing my anxiety, Dawn looked around to see if we were alone in the aisle before leaning in and speaking softly.

  “Kate, having an eating disorder isn’t like being an alcoholic. You can’t avoid your drug of choice. The only way you can make peace with food is by learning to enjoy it in a healthy way. And that takes practice.”

  I huffed air out from between my lips.

  “The only way to keep yourself from overeating is by giving yourself a little treat here and there. Does that make sense?”

  I nodded.

  “Cravings don’t go away. They either get satisfied or they get worse. But it doesn’t take much to satisfy a craving.” She gave me a gentle nudge. “Small indulgences are how you keep yourself from going off the rails.”

  “Sun Chips,” I said. “I think Sun Chips are nice.”

  She smiled and her eyes crinkled. “What flavor?”

  “Blue. Multigrain.”

  She reached for the big bag.

  “Maybe we could get the smaller bags?” I looked at my feet for a second. “Just so I um-”

  “No problem,” she said. “Whatever you want.”

  And even though she said it like it was no big deal, I felt like I’d had my first little win.

  On the way home I wondered why it was so easy to talk to Dawn about my eating disorder. Not that I was doing much talking, but still.

  I guess it had something to do with the fact that she worked with crazy people for a living. So she didn’t take my problems personally, and she knew I couldn’t fix them overnight.

  But everything she said made it sound like she believed I was already getting better. And that made me want to believe it, too.

  That night, we did just what Dawn said we’d do. We ordered salads from an Asian place down the street and watched 27 Dresses which we’d both seen a thousand times.

  “Have you ever been a bridesmaid,” I asked, shaking the last crispy wontons on my salad.

  “A few times,” Dawn said, forking some grilled chicken.

  “Any cool dresses?”

  She looked up and thought for a second. “Nothing that memorable. Except once. The bride was obsessed with Tim Burton."

  "The director?"

  She covered her mouth while she chewed. "Yeah."

  I waited for her to swallow.

  "So we all had to wear these outfits that made us look like black and white corpse dolls."

  "What?"

  "And we all had to draw lines on our lips so it looked like our mouths were sewn shut.”

  “Whoa.”

  “I think it was supposed to be sweet. Like they would love each other way beyond this life. Or s
omething morbid like that.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “They’re still together.”

  “How nice that they found each other.”

  “I know,” she said, closing the lid on her empty salad box.

  When the movie ended, Dawn told me that she’d fixed up the guestroom for me.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said. “I would’ve been happy on the couch.”

  “Don’t be silly. You need your own space. But I mostly use that room for storage so you’ll have to ignore all the stuff piled in the corner.”

  “Okay.”

  “I cleared off the desk in there, though, so you have a place to do your homework.”

  “I might go test that out now,” I said. “I have some math to do.”

  She smiled. “Sucks to be you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know.”

  “Well I’m going to have a glass of wine and watch a few episodes of the Walking Dead before I go to bed.” She pulled her legs up on the couch. “If you finish your work, you’re welcome to join me.”

  I wondered if the invitation extended to the wine, too, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to seem like a lush after she’d been so nice about letting me stay when she knew how fucked up I was.

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll just go to bed.”

  “Okay. Well make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will. Goodnight.”

  “Sweet dreams, Kate. See you in the morning.”

  That night, as I laid in the guestroom of my mysterious Aunt’s north side apartment, I was really impressed with myself. My stomach wasn’t growling from emptiness, and it wasn’t sore from being stretched. And I wasn’t tired because I was in a food coma or because I was exhausted from binging and purging.

  I was just tired from being called out and fighting the urge to binge all day. But I made it. I made it through the day. And if I could do it once, maybe I could do it again.

  After all, if I was mentally tough enough to start making myself do something as awful as binging and purging, maybe I was strong enough to stop doing it, too.

  And even though I knew I had a long way to go, for the first time in a long time, I had hope.

  Chapter 4: Dawn

  “Dawn?”

  “Yeah, Tina. It’s me.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

  “I know.”

  “Gosh, the line is so clear. It sounds like you’re right next to me.”

  “Actually, I’m right below you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m at the coffee place in your building.”

  “I thought your flight was yesterday?”

  “It was. I just didn’t get on it.”

  “Is everything okay? Are you-”

  “I’m fine.” I held the corner of my cranberry scone and willed myself not to break it until I got off the phone.

  “So..?”

  “I had a surprise visitor on Saturday night before I was supposed to leave.”

  “If you missed your flight because of some booty call I swear to-”

  “It wasn’t a booty call.”

  “Well then who-”

  “Kate. It was Kate.”

  “Kate?” She was quiet for a second. “Like Kate Kate.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Give me five minutes.”

  Tina arrived in a tailored three piece suit so I knew right away she was going to be in serious business mode. She walked up to the table and pointed to the extra coffee and the brown paper bag that she didn’t yet know contained a piece of carrot cake.

  “Is that for me?”

  “If you want it.”

  “Great.” She pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. “So. Your epic trip. I guess it’s on hold then?”

  I shrugged. “Kate wants to stay with me for a while.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Flattered, I guess.”

  Tina leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Did she say why?”

  “She’s having some problems.”

  “What kind of problems?”

  “Mostly normal teenage problems,” I said. “But it’s been hard on Carol.”

  “I see.”

  “She and Fred were thinking of sending Kate to some school out East where she could be watched more closely.”

  “Jesus. Is it that serious?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “So she’s going to stay with you instead?”

  I covered my mouth so Tina wouldn’t get an eyeful of scone. “I already told her she could stay.”

  Tina pinched her chin. “Wow, Dawn. That’s a lot. Are you sure you feel up to that? In your… intimate apartment. And health wise?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. A few days ago I felt well enough to go gallivanting in South America with strangers and long bus journeys and questionable medical care.”

  “I’m not saying I ever thought that was a good idea,” she said. “And I’m not saying that I’m not thrilled to have more time with you.” Tina swallowed. “Cause I am. But this sounds pretty complicated and you tend to-”

  “Run away from stuff?”

  “Your words, not mine.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Tina. I was completely panicked when she showed up at my place the other night.”

  “Understandable.”

  “But I think she needs me.” I licked my finger and dabbed at some scone crumbs. “She was so grateful when I said she could stay.”

  “You barely know her.”

  I shrugged.

  “I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.” She took the lid off her latte and took a sip. “This isn’t exactly going to make your life easier.”

  “I know that, but I’ve been making selfish decisions my whole life. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

  “Is minding a troubled teenager really how you want to spend your last…” She glanced down at the table and cleared her throat. “Your time?”

  “I don’t know. We had fun yesterday.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m so glad that you’ve thought this through.”

  I sighed.

  She tilted her head. “What do you want to come out of this?”

  “I don’t know. Something better?”

  “Something better.”

  “Well we had no relationship before yesterday.”

  Tina peeled the icing layer off the top of her carrot cake.

  “Come on. You have to admit that it’s strange that she showed up the night before I was supposed to leave?”

  “Strange? Yes. A sign from the cosmos? No.”

  I took a sip of my drink and licked the sweet foam off my top lip.

  Her eyes stopped sparkling for a second. “Look, it’s not that I don’t like kids-”

  I laughed. “That’s a lie.”

  “Well you didn’t like them either until what? 24 hours ago?”

  “She’s not a kid. She’s a teenager.”

  Tina threw her hands up. “Oh joy. Even better.”

  I squinted at her. “Aren’t you even a bit curious to meet her?”

  Her eyes softened. “Maybe a little.” She looked around for a moment and broke a piece of cake off with her manicured fingers. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Dawn. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “Why does anyone have to get hurt?”

  “Somebody always gets hurt.”

  “Even if that were true I’m going to die anyway.”

  She flinched.

  “How much worse could it get?”

  “I don’t know.” She twisted her wedding ring. “But do you really want to find out?”

  “I think it will be worse for everyone if I back out now.”

  “Well there’s your answer.”

  “I guess I already knew what I wanted to do.”

  “Of course you did or you wouldn’t have asked for my opin
ion.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even know why you run stuff by me. You always end up doing what you want anyway.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for understanding. You’re the best.”

  “Dawn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Does Carol know that you’re not just helping out to be polite? Does she know what this means to you? To have family around right now?”

  I looked down at the table and ran my fingers along the fake wood grain. “I don’t think so.”

  “You need to tell her.”

  “I don’t want her to worry.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “I’ll tell her,” I said. “I know I need to tell her.”

  “And one other thing,” she said, checking the absurdly small face of her thin gold watch.

  “Shoot.”

  “Don’t put all your eggs in the Kate basket.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What I mean is that I know it’s exciting to spend time with her and be there for her. But she has her own life, and you need to respect that.”

  “I know.”

  “I just thought I’d mention it because you seem to have forgotten that you closed your practice and gave away your cat so you could go on the trip of a lifetime.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you have to find some meaning outside of her. For both your sakes. Make a bucket list or something.”

  “I don’t think I have time for a whole list.”

  “Well at least do some things you’ve always wanted to do.”

  My mind drew a blank.

  She stuck her finger in the air. “Like you’re always saying you’d like to do one of those nude drawing classes.”

  “Yeah…”

  “And you’ve always wanted to go to the ballet.”

  “Some bucket list so far,” I said. “So glad you mentioned it.”

  “And you used to talk about wanting to write a book."

  "Did I?"

  "Yeah. About your sexual adventures and what you learned from them after you read that other book. What was it?”

  “Advice to a Young Wife from an Old Mistress.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “No. That is it, and you’re totally busted.”