Chapter One

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Chapter One

Moving to Santa Carla, California, had been too stressful for Mom. Following the curtails of her divorce, where Dad took everything, Mom had to uproot us back to her old home. Dad didn't want us; he had shouted when the divorce papers had been served. He didn't want to have to deal with a crazy, ill daughter or a son who read comics all day long. I remember feeling as if my heart had just stopped beating after being stabbed with a knife.

My dad had some choice words for my mother, too. By the time my father had read through the divorce paperwork, my Mom had dissolved into tears. Sam had crept into my room, trying to appear older and rougher than breaking into his own tears. I had welcomed my brother into bed, flipping down the light coverlet for him to crawl under.

Sam had hugged my stuffed animal, face buried in the soft fur until the screaming stopped. Usually, I would have sung to my little brother to help him sleep, but with the divorce, the fighting, and my own personal issues, I'd start withdrawing. Which meant not even speaking.

The school had ended by the time the paperwork had been signed and settled. Sam gave Mom grief about moving to her hometown, but I said nothing. There wasn't anything left for me in Phoenix - my toxic relationship had ended badly. I touched the lightening bruise on the side of my face in memory. I didn't have any friends, and now Mom had divorced Dad.

I felt hopeful that Santa Carla would be a better place. Something deep inside me yearned for the sandy beach, the hot summer sun, and the scent of saltwater in the air. I could faintly remember the summers spent in the town; Dad always griped about coming to Mom's hometown. Our summers spent in Santa Carla were few.

Sam grumbled for most of the ride. I was content to let my brother sit in the front seat while my Mom tried to ease the growing tension rising with every mile closer to Santa Carla. I didn't bother to protest - not wanting to spend one more minute in Phoenix. I didn't want to be any closer to my paternal figure than I had to be. Sam was popular. He wore designer clothing and had a lot of friends in Phoenix, even though he was a comic nerd.

"Honey, you need to eat something," My Mom's eyes found mine in the rearview mirror. I sighed granola bar in hand. I had picked each piece of oats off the bar for two hours. "Please just eat the granola bar."

"I'll eat it!" Sam reached back and snatched the granola bar from my hand. Before Mom could protest or reprimand my brother for taking my food, he had it half-crammed into his mouth. My stomach turned with disgust at seeing his bulging cheeks and flecks of chewed food on his lips. "Mmm!"

I just sighed and returned to gazing out onto the landscape. I could hear the seagulls becoming louder, indicating we were closer to Santa Carla and the sea. Mom wanted to say something else about my food situation but turned her attention to my brother as they messed with the radio.

For the past three years, my parents have struggled with my eating disorder. I didn't want to eat anything at all. My dad tried to ship me off to an inpatient facility, but they released me after I didn't gain any of the much-needed weight back.

Nanook, my brother's husky, set her head on my lap, offering warmth and protection. I reached down and pulled a copy of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina out of my bag. I knew it would be at least another hour before we reached Grandpa's place in Santa Carla.

"We are stopping!" Mom announced loudly, startling me. I was engrossed in the pages of Russian literature, the illicit affair between Anna and Vronsky. I jumped, the sharp tone of my mother's voice cutting through the scenes playing out in my head as I read.

I grabbed the discarded ribbon across my thin thigh and pressed it between the book's pages. I always needed to find my bookmarks; therefore, I would use any material to track my progress. Mom pulled into a gas station parking lot, needing to fill the car's tank.

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