***lilly***
My alarm goes off and I hear Elliana's alarm go off too. The walls are thinner. I hope she didn't hear me cry last night. It was quiet, but maybe not quiet enough. She's going to tell your Mom that you're depressed, Lilliana. You screwed this whole thing up.
I pray that she didn't hear me last night as I get up from bed and stretch. She probably didn't. I take my meds and do my hair in two french braids. I do my skincare and my makeup, and then I remember my calorie limit. 500 calories.
I pick out some black dancewear. Whenever I can, I choose black. Black makes you look skinnier. You look so fat in that tank top, Lilliana. At least you chose leggings. I have to leave in fifteen minutes. Just enough for breakfast. Cornflakes are 100 calories. I decide against milk, because it has 103 calories.
"Lilly, we're gonna take Elliana to dance- wait. Why don't you have milk in your Cornflakes?" Mom asks me as she's making her coffee.
"Because... I don't want my Cornflakes to get soggy," I quickly lie, and Mom luckily believes it.
My mind lingers on the fact that Elliana and I are going to carpool to the studio for privates, and my excitement grows. To save time, Mom receives an email with the schedule and texts it to me. I'm in group A.
I have lyrical at 7:00, school at 8:00, hip hop at 9:00, contemporary at 10:00, lunch and school at 11:00. Acro and gym tumbling at 12:00, jazz at 1:00, school at 2:00, and then to cap off the day, jumps and turns at 3:00.
I'm a little upset that I don't have ballet, but at least I have hip hop. I grab my dance bag after putting the dish in the sink. Despite having a 500 calorie limit, I spot chicken breasts in the fridge. That's like, half, my calories.
I pack five baby carrots, and a cup of blueberries. 135 calories. I make sure to grab my phone and water bottle as I head to the lobby. Elliana is already there. She's wearing white and also has her hair in two french braids.
"Oh my God! Twinsies! Ready to go?" I ask, playing with my braids.
"Yeah! Lemme take a pic," Elliana says before placing her phone in front of us for a selfie.
I quickly throw one of my braids up in the air for the photo and then we go to the car on my way to the car.
"I'm in Group A, what's your group?" I ask Elliana.
"I think Group A? I have lyrical for the first class though," Elliana replies, shrugging.
"We're in the same group then!" I squeal, looking out the window briefly.
***elliana***
Her tank top looks a little baggy around her, and her leggings look a little big. She's already tiny. I remember when I said goodbye to her at the airport. Her leggings didn't have any space, and now it looks like she could fit a pencil. She hasn't grown an inch. Maybe it's just her body changing naturally. Something just seems wrong.
***lilly***
As I look back away from the window, I notice Elliana looking at my legs. Elliana thinks they're fat, Lilliana. You're so ugly and fat. Not wanting to raise concern from Mom, I text Elliana. I make sure to choose my words carefully to not raise suspicion.
Lils: wut's wrong? do my legs look weird?
Elli: no, just looking around
This is the second time she's looked at me weird. I gulp, and the happy mood is shut down. I scroll on Instagram, and those couple of comments that call me fat and tell me I should get an eating disorder sting in my head. Everybody thinks you're fat, Lilliana. Even strangers think you're fat.
When we arrive in the studio, Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna are both there. Sarah is also put in our group and we start classes. Savannah called in sick though. Oof. Throughout the first batch of classes, especially lyrical and contemporary, both of which Ms. Abby is running, Ms. Abby keeps telling me to suck in my stomach and my feet are fat. Elliana stops me right before lunch.
"Hey, what Ms. Abby said to you, it was really harsh. Are you okay?" Elliana asks me, keeping her voice down.
"I'm fine. I appreciate it, but I'm better. A lot better than where I was before. Those comments don't really affect me anymore than they do to you," I lie straight to her face.
She puts a hand on my shoulder and nods. She understands. I have to be a lot more careful around her to hide my "problem." I go to the dancer's den and open my lunchbox, beginning to eat before I do my schoolwork.
***elliana***
She only packed a couple carrots and blueberries for her lunch. That's strange. She has to be hungrier than that. She's been dancing for three hours.
"You want some of my sandwich?" I offer her via text, not wanting to ask her verbally.
She looks at her phone and then at me, shaking her head no, mouthing, "I'm good, thanks."
Something isn't right. Something really isn't right. And I don't think it's bulimia. Maybe anorexia. But I don't want to push it. If she has a problem, she's less likely to confess if I ask her directly.
***lilly***
I think Elliana can tell something is up. Elliana's gonna tell Ms. Abby or your mom or the girls, who are going to snitch and then you'll be forced to go to that psych ward across the street, Lilliana. You ruined the whole plan. Having somebody who knows your entire background and can tell little signs that people who have only known you for two months cannot is scary.
Then again, I thought Pressley and Brady were suspicious during the first couple of weeks when I was trying to combat the urges instead of following them, and it turned out fine. Who knows?
After the second batch of classes, Ms. Abby keeps yelling at me in my gym tumbling class to suck in my stomach so that I'll be straighter, even when I'm perfectly straight. Your stomach is so fat, Lilliana. Ms. Abby can't tell when you're sucking your stomach in. At least I have a contortion partner that can do the same stuff I can, so I'm not bored. You don't deserve a friend, Lilliana. You're a fat, ugly, worthless, stupid, slut that doesn't deserve friends. I don't even know what "slut" means, but I can tell it's not a good word because the urges say it so frequently. I don't dare look it up for fear that I'll get even more hurt.
***elliana***
Lilly's sucking her stomach in really hard, and all Ms. Abby is saying is for her to suck in her stomach even more. I notice whenever we transfer from studio to studio, Lilly always looks in the mirror, closely examining herself as she walks by. I have to get everybody's numbers so I can ask them.
***lilly***
As Elliana is getting everybody's numbers before we leave the studio, GiaNina says, "Apparently they have little get-togethers on Mondays, so put on something nice and be on the roof by seven. Everybody's coming, except Savannah."
I nod and send a text to Savannah telling her to get better soon. She replies with a thanks and by the time I finish texting, Elliana is ready to go.
Elliana is looking at her phone a lot in the car ride back to the apartment. I will try to start some conversation.
"So what are you going to wear to the get-together?" I ask hesitantly, looking out the window.
"Probably a dress or something. You?" she asks back.
"I don't know yet," I reply, and the conversation falls flat.
***elliana***
I create a group chat quickly with GiaNina, Hannah, Pressley, and Sarah. Despite being friends with Savannah, I don't have her number. I'll have to get it tomorrow.
Elli: hey i made this group chat becuz i have some questions about Lilly
Pressley: This is strange
Sarah: I don't like this
Elli: it's really important and i need answers
Gia: K...
Elli: has Lilly been acting weird? Has she been going to the bathroom after meals to throw up?
Hannah: No... y would u kno bout that even?
Elli: she's been doing that since she was seven before she got help
Gia: she told us when she was nine she did it
Elli: probs changed it cuz she started cuz of ms. abby's comments
Pressley: omg
Sarah: awful
Hannah: i haven't noticed anything
Elli: We can do FaceTime when we get back before the get-together to discuss.
Gia: K
Pressley: I'm already back
Sarah: Can u even do that? Sure.
Hannah: See u then
I feel so bad doing this, but it's necessary. If Lilly has any eating disorder, we need to help her. She tries to start some conversation, but everything falls flat. We eventually get back to the apartment. As soon as I get back, I FaceTime the girls. Luckily, they're all at their apartments, and Sarah's at home.
"So, what's going on with Lilly?" Gia asks.
"I just noticed her clothes are looser and her face is less fuller and I got worried," I confess.
"She did skip lunch for a couple days or two after she got sick from a sandwich 'cause it's all her mom would pack for her until her mom started making other stuff, and I guess her lunches have been smaller, but she ate Red Robin a couple of days ago," Pressley trails off.
"I'm still doubtful. She seemed fine in privates today," Sarah argues.
"She kept looking at herself. I actually don't think she has bulimia anymore, because she would definitely say something, but she may have something else," I say.
"Like anorexia? She ate fast food yesterday. Elliana, you're thinking too much into this," Hannah comments.
"Let's just watch her for a couple of weeks before we make any moves. This could all be false," I suggest to the group.
They all reluctantly agree. We all say our goodbyes and confirm that I gained no new information from that. Oh, well.
***lilly***
Before the get-together Mom forces me to eat because I don't know if there will be food. I assume not. She forces me to eat a chicken breast. It's 231 calories. I barely have enough calories. No more entire chicken breasts, Lilliana. They have too many calories.
I pick a two-piece outfit. A matching white shirred back cami top with sunflowers and white belted shorts with sunflowers. I match it with the white sneakers, a single bubble braid down the back, and a yellow necklace. You look so fat, Lilliana. Your ribs aren't showing enough. Your thighs are too thick. You should change.
I look at the time. 6:55. It's too late to change. I sigh in discontent, sucking in my stomach as I grab my phone and go to the living room.
"Mom, I'm going to the rooftop!" I yell at her, the blaring television too loud to use a normal face.
Her eyes glued onto the television, she gives me a thumbs-up and I leave the apartment. I meet Elliana in the hallway. She's wearing a black cherry print Bodycon dress, her hair fluffy and down with a middle part, and wearing black platform boots. She looks so good in it. She's so skinny and perfect. You're so ugly compared to her, Lilliana. You're so short and fat. We go to the elevator where GiaNina is waiting. She's wearing a casual alien crop top, high-waisted jeans, rainbow tie-dye Converse, and her signature buns with black cat ears.
"I wonder what the others are wearing," GiaNina comments and we shrug.
The elevator opens and an old man walks out, leaving Pressley alone in the apartment. Her hair is in ringlet curls, pulled back in a ponytail. She has a couple of gold rings, and she's wearing a bright red floral dress, and sandals.
"Everybody looks so cute! We gotta take a pic!" Press exclaims and we all get in frame for a shot, me doing my little fish face thing.
You look so fat in the two-piece, Lilliana. Why didn't you change into something else? It's too late now, urges. I'm sorry. I'll pay for it later. I play with my outfit, trying to make it seem like my thighs are thinner and for the gap in between my top and my bottoms shorter.
Everybody's dressed more like GiaNina. I guess everybody has different meanings of "nice." I go over to the iPad, where Sarah is there. She doesn't live in an apartment because she lives in Pittsburgh, but still lives, like, an hour and a half away.
I wave to her via iPad and then sit in a red adirondack chair next to Hannah. She's wearing a white sweatshirt with a small rainbow on the heart, black distressed jeans, and white sneakers. Next to her chair is a pink camo backpack. I feel really insecure with the romper, and I play with it.
"I brought truth or dare Jenga!" Hannah announces, pulling out a box of Truth or Dare Jenga out of her backpack.
Sarah seems to have been informed about this, moving her camera to her own truth or dare Jenga.
"The rules say the oldest person goes first and we go in age order. So, that's... Hannah, then Gia, then Press, then me, then Elliana, and then Lilly," Sarah says.
Hannah quickly sets up Truth or Dare Jenga on a nearby table. We rearrange ourselves so that we are in birth order, me sitting next to Elliana. Hannah then pulls a stick out carefully. It's a dare.
"Play the next round left-handed. Oh no, that's gonna be fun!" Hannah reads out her stick and then laughs at the end.
I pretend to laugh, but all I can think about is how I look. I barely have a thigh gap when I sit down. Your thighs are so big, Lilliana. Good thing tomorrow you fast. Next is Gia. She also pulls out a dare.
"Post an ugly selfie on Instagram or any other social media platform. Okay, okay, okay, lemme choose one. Oh my God, this one," Gia narrates as she shows us a picture of when she fell during a photoshoot.
She captions it, "BTS of a photoshoot. Truth or Dare Jena MMDI." While she's doing that, it's Pressley's turn. Finally, the first truth is pulled.
"Who was the last one you texted? Brady texted me a picture of Adam Levine at the Super Bowl and how it matched one of the cushions of his couch a couple minutes before I got here," Pressley confesses.
We all poke at her. She has the biggest crush on Brady and Brady seems to text her the most. We then redirect our attention to Sarah, who pulls out a dare, who reads it out loud, "Play the next round with your feet. Welp, I think I know who's losing tonight."
We all laugh at her statement as Elliana chooses a dare from the Jenga tower.
"Sing like an opera singer. No, I'm not doing that, no way. I'm not a good singer," Elliana states.
After a little pressure, she eventually caves and sings a horrible rendition of an opera singer that makes us all laugh. Then it's my turn. I pull a truth. "What is your biggest fear?" I pause for a moment. My biggest fear is that I'm fat. If you tell them that, Lilliana, you'll be gone. Forever.
I stutter, "What is your biggest fear? I have to say hospitals and straightjackets are probably my biggest fear. I hate them with a burning passion."
Elliana puts a hand on my shoulder in comfort. She knows the story. The other girls don't. We go around like this for about half an hour. After a bunch of truths and dares like, "Who is your celebrity crush?" and "Lick your shoe," Sarah knocks her tower down with her foot, and Gia knocks down our tower.
By the time we finish Jenga, it's eight, and curfew time. We all hug goodbye, take a bunch of pics for social media, and I start to pick at my hair in the elevator. It's beginning to hurt my head. I manage to get out the first two hair ties, holding them in my hand as I walk to my apartment.
I take out the other hair ties in my head as I start the shower. As it's heating up, I weigh myself. 70.3 pounds. I'm almost down ten pounds. My heart does a little flutter of excitement. I'm halfway to my goal of 60 pounds. Good girl, Lilliana. But you're still so fat. Ms. Abby and social media will like you if you're skinny and perfect, and you're a good dancer.
My excitement is shot down in an instant. The number on the scale isn't low enough. I take my shower and put on some matching butterfly sweats. The total calorie count: 469 calories. Tomorrow's calorie limit: 0. This will be the first day since I started this schedule that I'm fasting. I hope nobody will notice.
~~~~~