Hate; feel intense or passionate dislike for (someone or something)
Carter Shay is a seventeen year old girl who's grown up with everything handed to her in life, her family has money, she has a nice car. She has designer clothes. Great parents, goe...
I slowly open my eyes and squint to get my eyes used to the light. I look around the room. It's a hospital room, not the nurse's room, an actual hospital room. "The nurse called 911." I jump at the sound of Noah's voice.
He's standing against the doorframe with a coffee in his hand. He walks in and sets it down on a table. We don't say anything for a few minutes, he's the first to break the silence. "They won't tell me anything since I'm not family, but your mom is on her way." I nod and sit up.
The doctor walks in. "Carter, I wish I could say I'm glad to see you back here." Noah's eyes snap to mine. Shit. "Do you want to wait for your mother?" I shake my head and he turns to Noah.
"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to-"
"He's fine, he can be here." Dr. Cade turns to me. He's gonna find out eventually, might as well find out now.
"Are you sure? It's pretty personal-"
"It's fine." He nods and reads off of the chart.
"When's the last time you ate, Carter?" I shrug.
"A week, maybe, I don't know," Noah mumbles something from behind him but it's too quiet for me to hear.
"How long has it been since your last relapse?"
"Five months, next week would've been six." He nods and writes something down.
"Carter, you have to stop this. I'm gonna give you one more chance because I believe you want to try. But if this happens again I have to recommend rehab." I nod. "For now I'm gonna recommend therapy again, but you're almost eighteen which means you are almost in charge of your health. I'm gonna go print out a list of the foods you need to be eating, I'll let you guys talk and I'll fill in your mom when she gets here." I nod as he exits the room.
Luckily they didn't change me out of my clothes so you can't see the cut marks. "Relapse? Why the fuck aren't you eating, Carter? What's he talking about?" He stands up from his chair and I look down to my feet.
"I have an eating disorder. Last year some people made comments about my weight so I stopped eating. Five months ago I didn't like how I looked and I stopped eating and last week-" I trail off but he finishes for me.
"What Ashlyn said?" I nod, still looking at my feet. Noah used his fingers to carefully move me to look at him. "Do you not believe anything I said at the dance?" I shrug.
"You saw I was upset, so you tried to make me feel better, but that doesn't mean that you meant it." He sighs.
"Carter, I promise my life that every single thing I said is true. You don't need makeup, or a straightener to look beautiful because you already are. It doesn't matter how much you weigh to anyone, I promise. You are gorgeous exactly how you are and anyone who tells you to change that can fuck off. Ashlyn's just jealous that you can look better than her in sixteen-dollar shoes than she can in two-hundred-dollar shoes." I know I'm crying because he uses his thumbs to wipe away tears.
How did I hate him a month ago?
I pull him in for a hug and he sighs into my neck. "Ten dollars."
He pulls away. "What?"
"The shoes we're ten dollars." He laughs and rolls his eyes.
"Don't tell Amber because she scares me but you were definitely the most beautiful girl at homecoming." I laugh. I have butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies! I don't know what he's doing to me but I like it.
But it's messing up our whole dynamic, but I'm just now realizing with all the insults he's told me all these years he's never mentioned anything about my looks or body. Maybe he's a better man than I thought.
