‹ Prequel: Ana
Sequel: Relearning Laura ›
The "You're Not Fat" Campaign
Easy Lies
The first miniscule bite of ravioli slips through my lips and I shudder. The ingredients run through my head floureggsaltricottacheesepepperherbs. I can taste everything. The cheese is soft and it spreads across my tongue in an absolutely heavenly way.
Ew. I can't believe you're eating that. You fat whore. Don't you have any self respect? You don't deserve that ravioli. You don't deserve any food at all. Go to the bathroom and puke it all up. Go. GO NOW.
The food curdles in my mouth and I blink back tears. I set down my fork and grip my glass of water. The condensation makes my hand slide down to the base of the cup. I take a long drink. Rick reaches across the table and takes my other hand.
"How have things been going?" he asks quietly. "You've seemed a lot better. You haven't been freaking out as much."
Of course you haven't, you've been doing all the right things.
"I'm okay. Tired a lot. My teachers have been piling on homework."
"Yeah, mine too."
We eat - well, he eats, and I pick slowly at the tiny bits of pasta on my plate - in silence for a few minutes.
"This is nice," he says, smiling at me. "We barely get to see each other anymore."
"I know," I sigh. "It sucks."
He doesn't want to see you. You're too ugly and fat for him to care.
"It does suck. I feel like I haven't been there for you at all. I'm sorry, Lo."
"No, no, it's okay, honestly."
Damn right it's okay. You shouldn't even be here. You shouldn't be with him.
"How..." he pauses and bites his lip. "How has everything been with... eating and stuff?" I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.
"Fine. Everything's fine. I'm fine," I lie easily.
Good girl.
Rick smiles.
"That's so good, Laura. I'm so proud of you for beating that."
Beating what? There's nothing to beat. I'm helping you.
"Yep," I reply. "I'm doing great."
They're such easy lies.
Ew. I can't believe you're eating that. You fat whore. Don't you have any self respect? You don't deserve that ravioli. You don't deserve any food at all. Go to the bathroom and puke it all up. Go. GO NOW.
The food curdles in my mouth and I blink back tears. I set down my fork and grip my glass of water. The condensation makes my hand slide down to the base of the cup. I take a long drink. Rick reaches across the table and takes my other hand.
"How have things been going?" he asks quietly. "You've seemed a lot better. You haven't been freaking out as much."
Of course you haven't, you've been doing all the right things.
"I'm okay. Tired a lot. My teachers have been piling on homework."
"Yeah, mine too."
We eat - well, he eats, and I pick slowly at the tiny bits of pasta on my plate - in silence for a few minutes.
"This is nice," he says, smiling at me. "We barely get to see each other anymore."
"I know," I sigh. "It sucks."
He doesn't want to see you. You're too ugly and fat for him to care.
"It does suck. I feel like I haven't been there for you at all. I'm sorry, Lo."
"No, no, it's okay, honestly."
Damn right it's okay. You shouldn't even be here. You shouldn't be with him.
"How..." he pauses and bites his lip. "How has everything been with... eating and stuff?" I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath.
"Fine. Everything's fine. I'm fine," I lie easily.
Good girl.
Rick smiles.
"That's so good, Laura. I'm so proud of you for beating that."
Beating what? There's nothing to beat. I'm helping you.
"Yep," I reply. "I'm doing great."
They're such easy lies.