Four years today.
Four years ago, on this very day, I was announced cured, and my parents gave me permission to attend college. Local, of course. No way were they letting me move to another state where they couldn’t intervene if I relapsed.
Cured. A strange word. I knew I wasn’t cured—at least not really. I fought daily, hourly against the urge to go back to that time. I still regarded food as my enemy; extreme exercise and starvation were my friends. But I wouldn’t go back. Couldn’t. I was stronger. Improved. I had new friends, friends who knew nothing of my troubled past. I had a life again and I wouldn’t give it up. I had to keep moving forward, no retreat, no surrender.
Lexington, you have put on weight… interrupted the voice I fought so hard to quell, a haunting echo in the back of mind. Your hips are wider… There is cellulite on your thighs. You know how to get better. Just let me in, give yourself over to me…
He never left me. He was always there, waiting for the ideal moment to pounce. Waiting for me to weaken just enough to let him take back control.
Shaking my head, I pushed him back into his cave. He would not escape again. If he did, I knew he would eventually win, and I wouldn’t be able to go on. He would finally succeed in killing me.
A knock sounded at my door, and it burst open, jerking me from my dark thoughts. Cass, my blond Texan best friend, the girl who spoke without a filter. The saying was true: everything was bigger in Texas, including Cass. But I envied her. She owned it. Lived it. Wore her size with pride.
As soon as I saw her, I sat up straight, grinning wide, playing the role of the happy-go-lucky girl who always wears a smile. The girl who hides behind her makeup, the reinvented girl who came to UA to escape her past. That made-up girl is the only “Lexi” my friends have ever truly known.
“Yo, biotch! How’s it hangin’?” Cass walked into the room, wearing rhinestone jeans with her usual skintight black tank, and she slumped down on my black velvet loveseat at the side of the room.
“What you doing in bed at five p.m.?” Her blue eyes suddenly widened. “Oh shit! Were you flicking the bean? Do you need some…” She bowed her head and whispered behind her hand, “Lexi time?”
Grabbing my pillow, I groaned and launched it at Cass’s head just as she lifted her middle finger on her left hand, rotated it like a vibrator, and licked her lips. The pillow hit her square in the face, and she scowled.
“Fine, but there’s no shame in getting yourself off… Just saying! I do it at least twice a day. Well, I did until Jimmy-Don started taking care of that shit for me. Lord, what that guy can do with just the tip of his tongue!”
“Thanks for letting me know, Cass,” I said dryly. She just wiggled her eyebrows at me in response.
“So where’s Ally and Molls?” I asked. Ally, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, courtesy of her Spanish mother’s Latino exotic looks, and Molly, our British transfer genius who had just arrived here at UA a few months back to get her Masters. She was beautiful underneath her mass of brown hair and thick geek glasses. And Molly, the most private girl I knew, had managed to capture the attention of the most popular guy on campus—Rome “Bullet” Prince, Ally’s cousin and star quarterback for the Tide.
“Studying, I think?” Cass finally answered.
Cass shifted in her seat and, glancing at the slightly ajar door, leaned forward. “What the hell’s up with Molls and Rome?”
“I don’t know. Never known the guy to care for anyone but his friends, and then Molls arrives and suddenly he’s always watching her, trying to talk to her.”
“He’s sure got folks talking.”
“Has Molls said anything else about it to you?” I asked.
Cass hit me with her yeah-right expression. “Nah, darlin’. You know that chick’s not into sharing her feelings. But, fuck, Rome Prince! What I wouldn’t give to be rammed from behind by that dude!”
My eyes darted to movement at the door. “Hey, Molls! Hey, Ally!”
Molly timidly entered the room, pushing her thick black glasses up on her nose. Ally followed behind, scowling at Cass in reprimand.
“What are you talking about? I heard my name mentioned,” Molly asked warily.
I swallowed and snapped my gaze to Cass, who was just casually lounging back on the loveseat.
“Erm…” I mumbled, thankful my white makeup covered the red blush of my embarrassment.
Cass rolled her eyes. “We were talking about you getting all dripping wet for Rome Prince! Mr. Turn-any-*-into-a-faucet!”
Ally made a gagging sound. “Cass! He’s my cousin! Jesus Christ! The guy’s like my damn brother!”
Molly’s brown eyes were huge behind the lenses of her glasses, and she sputtered, “Bloody hell, Cass! Could you be any more crude!”