‹ Prequel: Ana
Sequel: Relearning Laura ›
The "You're Not Fat" Campaign
Dilemma
Rick wants to take me out to dinner tonight. I am worried. I hate eating in public. I hate eating in general, even though I'm so hungry all the time. And Rick is probably taking me to his favorite restaurant - Vita è Bella. It's a hole-in-the-wall Italian place, and before I started hating food it was one of my favorite restaurants too. Cassie and I would go there every Friday night during our freshman year and share a bowl of pasta and sing the song from Lady and the Tramp. The waiters loved us. They called us their "dolce bambine con grandi appetiti" and always gave us free refills. Aldo, the owner of Vita è Bella, and his wife, Sofia, would often come join us at our table. Their sons, Amadeo and Demetrio, were typical Italian hearthrobs, all curly dark hair, olive skin, and dark, long-lashed eyes. For the longest time Cassie and I longed for them from afar. I think Cassie still likes Amadeo, the younger brother, who is only a year and a half older than us. I have long believed that Amadeo has a soft spot for Cassie, as well. He sometimes used to slip her an extra cannoli.
Cassie and I haven't gone to Vita è Bella in almost a year.
I don't really want to go now. I tell myself it will ruin the memories, but really I know that I'm scared. Italian food has such a high calorie count. Even if I get a salad, it will still be drenched in dressing, and sprinkled with cheese. And of course Rick will want to get a cannoli, or two, or three. And he'll want to be silly and share a plate of pasta, which will obviously be slathered with tomato sauce and cheese and parsley. I can feel my stress levels rising already. There is no way out of this. One meal at Vita è Bella will cost me more than 700 calories. My maximum-calorie goal the past few weeks has been 400 per day. I will definitely have to purge after dinner. Except that it's a Friday night, so Rick will probably want to go to his house after dinner and watch a movie or play Bananagrams or something. Obviously I can't purge at his house, and I'm scared to purge in public, so the Vita è Bella is bathroom out.
You could just tell him you're sick, that little voice hisses in my mind. Make yourself throw up. Then when Rick gets here you'll be pale and smelling of vomit. He won't want to be near you if you smell like puke.
I consider this option. Rick doesn't know that I purge, so he might not suspect anything. It's a good idea, really.
But on the other hand, I barely get to see Rick. He's in all AP classes, and he works. I miss him.
It is quite the dilemma.
And before I solve it, the doorbell rings.
Rick has made my decision for me.
Cassie and I haven't gone to Vita è Bella in almost a year.
I don't really want to go now. I tell myself it will ruin the memories, but really I know that I'm scared. Italian food has such a high calorie count. Even if I get a salad, it will still be drenched in dressing, and sprinkled with cheese. And of course Rick will want to get a cannoli, or two, or three. And he'll want to be silly and share a plate of pasta, which will obviously be slathered with tomato sauce and cheese and parsley. I can feel my stress levels rising already. There is no way out of this. One meal at Vita è Bella will cost me more than 700 calories. My maximum-calorie goal the past few weeks has been 400 per day. I will definitely have to purge after dinner. Except that it's a Friday night, so Rick will probably want to go to his house after dinner and watch a movie or play Bananagrams or something. Obviously I can't purge at his house, and I'm scared to purge in public, so the Vita è Bella is bathroom out.
You could just tell him you're sick, that little voice hisses in my mind. Make yourself throw up. Then when Rick gets here you'll be pale and smelling of vomit. He won't want to be near you if you smell like puke.
I consider this option. Rick doesn't know that I purge, so he might not suspect anything. It's a good idea, really.
But on the other hand, I barely get to see Rick. He's in all AP classes, and he works. I miss him.
It is quite the dilemma.
And before I solve it, the doorbell rings.
Rick has made my decision for me.