Cheerio

After school, I stood by Puck’s locker, my stomach tying itself into knots. I was dreading having to tell Puck the truth, but I knew I had to. Even if I tried to lie, not only would it ruin my chances of getting people to like me for the first time in my life, Puck would totally be able to tell and make me tell the real story in the end. So it was really a no-brainer.

Puck sauntered up to his locker a couple minutes later, after the majority of the school had already gone off to their cars or buses. He was wearing a smirk, obviously pleased with his idea of making me reveal my deepest, darkest secret.

My face twisted into a scowl as I thought about how much his smug air made me want to slap him. But, thankfully, I resisted. “Look, I’ll tell you what you want to know,” I told him, realizing that I sounded like something out of a bad mystery movie, “but we’re not doing it at my house. I don’t want to risk my mother or brother overhearing us.”

“So where do you want to tell me, then?”

“Why don’t we go to the Lima Bean? That’s that coffee place, right?”

“Yeah. Won’t there be more people to overhear you, though? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, it does, idiot.” I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes together when I realized that I’d insulted him. “Sorry. But it does because there’s a lot more noise because of the amount of people. It’s less likely someone will be able to hear us.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Puck sighed, as if he still thought I was out of my mind, but figured it was easier to agree than argue.

We made our ways out to his car in silence, the tension and anxiety growing almost unbearable. My stomach had evolved from just flipping to lurching. My head was spinning, and my knees were weak. Something told me that the last thing my body needed in its current condition was caffeine, but if it was a way to avoid going to my house, I would have to take it.

Puck pulled into a parking spot at the Lima Bean, and we hurried inside to escape the cold. After I got a decaffeinated vanilla chai tea and Puck got his coffee, we sat at a corner table, which was out of the way enough that we’d be able to hear each other and that no one would be able to eavesdrop easily.

I stirred my tea, mulling over what words I was supposed to say. I knew that I was probably putting a little too much thought into it, but it wasn’t everyday that I spilled my guts to someone. Never mind the fact that I barely knew Puck.

“So, are you going to say anything or what?” Puck asked finally after taking a long sip of his coffee. How he did that, I have no idea. The steam was still rising out of my tea in huge swirls, showing that it was still scalding.

I took a deep breath. “Before I say anything, I just want to let you know that I think you’re a major douchebag for making me do this.”

He nodded, as if this didn’t surprise him in the least.

After breathing a couple more times to calm my nerves, I started talking. “Did you know my parents are divorced?”

“No,” Puck responded, not sure what I was leading up to. “So are mine, though.”

“That’s not my main point.” I laughed a little bit, starting to feel slightly looser. “When I was growing up, I was a Daddy’s girl, like a lot of other girls. I looked up to him, like he was a God or something.” I shook my head, trying to fight back the tears that were starting to form. It wasn’t easy, revisiting this situation. It had been a long time since I voluntarily retrieved these memories.

“I don’t know how I was so dumb, even when I was young. My father…he was kind of a complex person. When he was good, he was great. He’d take me to the movies, to baseball games, everywhere. I felt so special. He made it so obvious that he favored me over my brother, even though I was a girl.”

“But when he was bad, he was horrible. From when I was old enough to understand words, he would tell me all sorts of things when we were home. That I was fat, stupid, lazy, ugly. Granted, he usually used different words, but that was his intent.”

Puck looked at me as if I had cracked through some kind of wall he had up, and my story was starting to get through to him. “When someone you respect that much says shit like that to you, you believe it. So I grew up thinking I was all those things. When I was nine, I started binging and purging. You know, stuffing my face with almost every type of food we had in the house, and then puking it all up.”

“What the fuck?” Puck snapped at me. “Don’t you know that could kill you?”

I put up a hand and gave him a threatening look. He wanted the story, so he was going to get it.

“My father left when I was ten, and I stopped for a few months. But then I started getting interested in cheerleading. I looked around at the girls I was dancing with, how thin they were, how beautiful they were. How could a fat, lazy, stupid, ugly girl like me compete with them?

“So instead of binging and purging, I just purged. Anything that passed my lips, I threw up, basically. I kept just enough down to keep me from passing out or doing anything that could give away my secret.

“I know it’s dumb to tell you all this, since I still do it, but some habits are hard to break. I’m not so much of an idiot that I don’t know there are going to be long-term effects from what I’m doing, but I’ve been doing it too long. It’s…normal for me.”

We were silent for a second, and to cover the fact that I was feeling very uncomfortable, I took a sip of my tea. It was still a little too hot for my taste, and I felt like my tongue was melting.

Finally, Puck cleared his throat, as if clearing away any emotion that might have shown earlier. “That’s sad and everything, but what does it have to do with your comment?”

I swallowed down the pain in my mouth before answering. “Everyone thinks that I have this perfect life, that I choose to be a bitch. But in reality, my life kind of sucks and the only reason I treat everyone is like shit is because it’s easier than becoming friends with any of them. Being close to people means that you have to share secrets with them, that people get to know you too well. That’s just…too much of a danger.”

“Well, we’re not close, and now I know a lot about you.”

“I know. It sucks, but it had to be done.” Now that I told him, I did feel a little better. My nervousness was gone, but I still had to wonder what was going to happen next. What if Puck told someone? I would totally lose my mind.

“Look, this may be awkward because, like I said, we’re not close, but what you dad said is bullshit. You’re none of those things. Do you know that now?”

I gave a small smile as I got to my feet. “Thanks. But some things are so far ingrained that they can’t just be overwritten by one compliment.”

Puck looked at me with pity, and I turned away. It wasn’t my intention to make him feel sorry for me.

Suddenly, I turned to face him. “Look, you can’t tell anyone about what I said, okay? Not Miss Pillsbury, not your mom. Not even your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, if you get a dog, and you have the urge to tell it my secret, don’t. Pinky swear on it.” I held out my hand, pinky extended, waiting for him to comply.

He just rolled his eyes at me. “Are we in third grade or something?”

“Just shut up and do it.”

He grumbled under his breath, but finally hooked his pinky with mine. “Now, if you break your promise, I get to break your pinky.”

“I understand how it works,” Puck informed me. “Now are we going to work on our assignment or what?”

“Sure. But we’re going to your house. My mom and brother would be all over you if you came to my house. In a questioning way, not a sexual way.”

Puck laughed and grabbed his coffee before we started toward the door. “I saw your mom once at a football game. I totally wouldn’t mind having her all over me in a sexual way.”

I slapped him on the shoulder and tried to look appalled, but I ended up laughing. “You’re such a pig.”

“Got that right, babe.”