“The honor of knowing you can kick my ass any day of the week.” I clap for him and continue walking. “In running that is. I’d wipe the floor with you on the beam.” It’s my best event and he knows it.
“Considering guys don’t even compete on the beam, Sophie. I’d say you’re right about that.”
He walks me to the front door and gives me a hug. “Thanks for the notes.”
“Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.” We part ways and I run inside the rec room, finding the first available bathroom. After some trial and error, I’ve discovered it’s the least used bathroom in the dorm. As expected, the stalls are all empty and I waste no time sticking my fingers down my throat, helping my body find relief. It doesn’t take much of my own effort before I gag repeatedly, the heat of the spices from the tacos burning my throat and nose. I try to slow down, to ease the stinging pain, but it doesn’t help. Combined with the acidity of my stomach, I’ve created a volcanic eruption of molten lava. I knew it was a bad idea to eat that much considering I’ve been struggling with soup.
I’ve gotten better at gauging when I’ve completely purged. There’s no specific evidence, but rather a notion from within. Satisfied, I wipe the tears from my watery eyes, the exertion causing every muscle to tighten up. I reach for the flusher and pause. Gasping, there’s blood in the toilet and on the back of my hand. It’s happened before, but never this much. With my throat comparable to the grit of sandpaper, I know I have to give myself a rest from vomiting. This isn’t healthy. But I feel ten times better now that I’ve gotten it out of my system. It’s not the same high that comes with a real purge though; this is done out of necessity rather than to right a wrong.
“Was that you in there? Jesus, Sophie,” Cara says.
I hate being caught. It makes me feel even more shameful than I already do. “My Mexican fiesta didn’t agree with me at all.”
She eyes me warily, but says no more about the subject. “Are we still going out tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. That’s if you still want to go.”
“You’re not sick?” She questions.
“Not anymore. I’m doing better actually.” I’ll be one hundred percent as soon as I chug a Gatorade and brush my teeth.
She claps, her excitement spilling over to me. “Okay. I’m so excited to hang out again. Let’s leave in an hour. I have to stop by Drew’s quickly, but I’ll only be a minute.”
I flick my ponytail. “Sure. I’ll start working on this mop of hair.”
My mind still reeling from seeing blood in the toilet, I turn my attention to my hair and work on making myself look presentable. If I do run into Kipton tonight, I don’t want to look like shit. Maybe someday there will be a chance for the two of us to reconnect. Until then, I’ll continue to visit him safely in my dreams where I don’t have to worry about if he’ll leave me, or grow to hate me.
“Do you want to borrow something to wear?” Cara asks as soon as she returns to our room.
“I know you won’t approve of anything I have.”
She laughs and shakes her head in agreement. “Here, wear this jean skirt you wore last time and try this tank top with it. You can wear the same boots too.”
I hold up the top, taking in the sparkly sequins lining the front. Is she trying to make me look like a disco ball? “The same skirt and boots? Won’t people notice?”
“I hate to break it to you, Sophie, but your clothes didn’t stay on long enough for anyone to notice other than asshat Caleb. Please try to keep your distance from him tonight. You have a better shot of staying clothed that way.”
Rolling my eyes, I know she’s right. “I can’t argue with you there. There will be no excessive drinking or nakedness tonight, Cara. I promise.”
Laughing she snorts. “You said that last time and look what happened.”
Man she’s going for the jugular tonight. “You made your point, Cara,” I remind her.
“Sorry. Kipton won’t let anyone else touch you anyway.”
“He won’t be keeping tabs on me all night.” Will he?
“You are so clueless, Sophie. My brother still has it bad for you.”
“Not anymore.” I made sure of that.
“You do realize that avoiding him won’t work forever and eventually you’re going to give in and have wild monkey sex again.”
“Cara!” I clutch the top to my chest as my mouth hangs open in shock. “What do you mean again?”
“Oh come on, I know you two did it. Now you’re both avoiding each other and it’s because of me. So tonight I vow to change that. I’m reuniting you both, making it clear that I don’t have a problem with you two dating. I thought I had already made that clear, but apparently not. You two are a pain in the ass when you’re tiptoeing around one another. Make out already! You’re sad. I see it in your eyes. I don’t want you to be.”
Feeling the blood drain from my face, I sit down on the edge of my bed. “Maybe I’ll stay in tonight. You go without me.” I don’t want her to play matchmaker. This has nothing to do with her opinion of the two of us together. It’s about my choices—how I need things to be for my own sanity.
She pulls me by the arm off the bed. “Oh no you don’t. Now let’s go see Kipton and get you laid.” Shoving me to the closet, she picks up the skirt and sticks it in my hand. “Change.”
“Cara! He’s your brother! You can’t say those things.”
“I told you I don’t care. I’d rather he picks you over some blond bimbo with fake knockers and a nonexistent IQ. Think about it, whoever he marries I’ll have to be around all the time. I refuse to set myself up for torture if I can help it. Now move it, woman.”
“You know I’m a blonde right?”
She shoves me forward again. “Yes, I do. But you’re not a moron and your boobs are small. Keep it moving.”
Looking down at my chest, I sigh. Well she’s right about that. I slide on the jean skirt and am surprised when it hangs off my hips. This can’t be the same skirt as last time. “Cara, are you sure this is the same skirt?”
“Yes, why?”
“Just checking.” I grab a belt from my wardrobe and fasten it around my waist. I’d like to credit the weight loss to my conditioning, but I’m not stupid enough to believe it doesn’t have something to do with getting sick all the time either. I’ll have to start doing a better job of resisting.
I THOUGHT WE’D BE ONE of the early arrivals at the party, but the house is already full. Without question, Caleb is manning the keg, dishing out pick-up lines as fast as the cups fill with beer. Cara stops me near the keg. “Sophie, can you grab my beer. If I don’t pee right now I’m going to explode.”
“Sure. I’ll wait for you by the stairs.”
“Thank you!”
She dashes off and I laugh at her urgency. “Hey, Good Lookin’. You back for more?”
“Nope. Not tonight. I’m getting Cara a beer.” Caleb eyes me appreciatively and slowly fills Cara’s Solo Cup.
“You’re looking extra hot tonight. You sure you don’t want a drink?” he questions.
I shake my head. “Nope. I’m good.” I don’t need any motivation to act like a fool again. This is my second party; surely I’m wiser this time around.
“That’s a shame. You’d have more fun if you drank.” He hands me back the cup, overflowing slightly with sticky white foam. “Sorry about the head.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “The what?”
“Head. The foam.”
That’s a new one for me. “Oh. It’s fine.”
“I forgot you’re new to this party thing. Lick your finger, then stick it in and swirl it around. It’ll make it all better.”
I stare at the cup watching the bubbles slowly pop. I’m not molesting the beer. Cara can do whatever she wants with her cup. “Thanks for the tip.” I roll my eyes and walk away.
“Hey, Sophie.”