Tweet, tweet. Chirp, chirp. Six o'clock. Birds are ringing. It's getting a little annoying. I should probably change the alarm. Oh, well. It's too early for this, but I guess I should get used to it when I get back to America.
Pressley groans and pulls the pillow over her head. I stumble to her bed nearby and pull it off. We can't be late for church. Instantly, I hear a knock at the door as Pressley tries to push me away.
"Who is it? I can't see through the peephole!" I call out.
"Ashley and Stacey," Ashley calls out.
I open the door and they're standing in the doorway, looking very church-ready. I let them in and I realize they're holding our dresses. Ashley starts waking up Pressley a little bit more and Mom hands me my dress to put on. I go into the bathroom and very carefully put the dress on.
It looks really good on me. Really, really cute, yet sophisticated and pretty. Very... Lilly. This is the first time I've been really confident in something. I carefully put on silver sandals so I don't rip the dress and reenter the room.
"Look at you!" Mom exclaims, and I giggle awkwardly.
She takes so many photos and I feel like a little princess, getting photographed. The before pictures. Before I eat the amount that a cow would eat. I'm going to grow two sizes today. But it's Easter. It's still very stressful.
Pressley awakens enough to put on her dress. It's very feathery at the bottom, and a shimmery champagne color. Very, very beautiful. I even take some photos for myself. She's so pretty in the dress. You're so ugly in your dress, Lilliana. It's so childish.
I sit down on my bed so Mom can do my hair and makeup. Ashley and Mom fawn over us the entire time. We all watch some SpongeBob Squarepants as Mom curls both of our hair, adding the headbands, and Ashley does our makeup.
My headband is a bunch of light coral fabric looped together, with a thin layer of tulle. Pressley's is the champagne feathers on her skirt portion of the dress, but on her head. They're both super cute. Pressley puts on these big heavy winter boots instead of sandals.
"Ready to go?" Mom asks, handing me my medicine.
I swallow it, smile, and reply, "Yup!"
I'm so anxious about eating. I should probably get used to this. Holidays, where big celebrations full of food are involved, are always going to be stressful to me as long as I'm starving myself.
By now, it's seven in the morning. Church starts in an hour. Hannah and Gia are waiting in the lobby, Ann and Joanne very dolled up. Hannah's wearing this purple dress with a bunch of shimmery flowers on it.
"It's so weird being so fancy in this hotel lobby! I feel like we're part of the hotel!" Hannah exclaims.
"We're proper ladies now!" Gia says in one of the worst British accents I've ever heard in my entire life.
I fix my posture and wave my hand like The Queen, gaining some giggles. The church is half an hour away, so we need Sarah and Brady to come. And quickly. We wait around for a few minutes, constantly checking our phones for times, the moms starting to order for Ubers.
Running down the hallway are Sarah and Brady, Sarah holding her shoes in her hands. Brady is wearing this pink dress shirt with a navy blazer, tan pants, balck shoes, a plaid bowtie, and this tweed cap.
"Sorry we're late! I burned the back of Sarah's neck with the curling iron!" Michelle explains.
"It still hurts," Sarah sulks, and shows us the nasty burn about the size of a quarter.
I give a horrified face of shock and disgust as our Ubers arrive. Sarah winces as the hair falls on her burn and she quickly pulls on silver sandals, running to catch up with us. We get into this humongous van that holds all of us. Convenient.
I sit next to Pressley and we take a bunch of selfies together while the humongous Uber is driving us to church. After Pressley and I are done taking selfies, I look outside the window. It's cloudy, yet the architecture is beautiful.
The bricks and the stone and the people. Pressley and I keep pointing out stuff that looks pretty. More churches and department stores, stained glass and horses. All so pretty and magical. It's a nice break from my reality.
Eventually, after half an hour of having some actual fun, we see a big tan building with a lot of stained glass. Ms. Abby is outside of it, looking dressed up, along with Ms. Gianna. Church time!
We all gingerly step out the bus, trying our best to not ruin our dresses as we walk out. Ms. Abby lights up at the sight of our dresses. She claps excitedly.
"You guys look so cute!" Ms. Abby exclaims, and I smile.
"Pictures!" The moms exclaim, holding up their phones.
Ms. Gianna steps aside and I get in Ms. Abby's lap. I'm way too short to stand on the ground with everybody. I put on one of my fake smiles, by far the fakest I've ever done. We stand there for a minute. Cameras flashing in our face make it almost unbearable to keep my eyes open.
"Ok, ok, why don't we go in and go to church?" Ms. Abby suggests, and we all nod.
"Now, remember, you are in the Lord's house. Be respectful., quiet, no goofing around. And here's a quarter for communion. Do not steal it!" Ms. Abby warns us.
We walk in and there are a few people there. We all find a pew in the back to sit, and there's a choir singing some hymns. I went to church once when I was four, but I don't remember much of it. Dance got in the way. You have too many sins for God to love you, Lilliana.
After about ten minutes, the choir stops and a plate is passed around. People are putting money on the plate. It must be communion. When it comes around to us, we all drop our quarters into the plate and pass it to the next pew.
Once that's over, a man in a suit steps up to the podium. He introduces himself as Father Christian. All of a sudden, he starts going into this monologue about Easter and him realizing the importance of Easter.
Father Christian speaks, "Easter was one of the best times of year when my boys were little. We used to wake up early the day before to get good spots in line at the neighborhood Easter egg hunt... my boys would come home with candy by the bag full. After the egg hunts we'd come home to my wife having boiled what seemed like a hundred eggs, decorate them until late afternoon, and eat these silly marshmallow peeps over some movie. I never really liked those peeps, but the boys loved them, and it wasn't Easter without them.
As boys often do, they started growing up and egg hunts, decorating hard boiled eggs, and eating marshmallow peeps became a thing of the past. We tried to substitute family dinners where girlfriends... fiances... and later wives started joining. Now that they've all moved away, we take turns having Easter at all of our houses, but it's just not the same anymore. A lot of things haven't been for quite some time... and the more that I've tried to shake my feelings of unsettledness the more I'm realizing the marshmallow peeps and the egg hunts wouldn't make them go away even if I could go back to share them with my boys again.
The cloud of uneasiness remained until our Easter trip this year to visit our eldest Jacob in Kent. He sat me down and started telling me the story of Easter... how a man named Jesus died and the came alive again to save us... and something inside of me began to stir.
In all my years as a father, I had never encountered the passion and eartnessness with which my son spoke. I understood for the first time that the story of Easter meant something for me. That it was more than a legend, a myth, more than just a religious story. It turned into light for me... light that pushed the clouds around my heart away. It was real... and I've never been the same again."
Everybody agrees. I just nervously sit there and try to do what the others do. We listen to more stories, pray, sing songs, and overall, it's kind of fun. Until the bread and wine part. Unwanted calories.
"You're not having alcohol at ten, Lilly. Stay behind," Mom whispers to me.
I sigh in relief and wait until everybody else gets their bread and wine. More like a cracker and a smidge of wine, but I'm still glad Mom doesn't make me eat any. Everybody else gets blessed by the Priest, and we begin to head out once everybody else is blessed.
"That was actually fun!" Pressley exclaims.
"Are we ready to go to the teahouse?" Ms. Abby asks.
"Yes!" we all exclaim.
First challenge of the day: tea house. There's going to be finger sandwiches, cookies, and tea. I'm not going to eat much. I'm still trying to lose weight. I fidget anxiously. I should have taken Venlafaxine. Too late.
We have the same Uber. I guess not many cars have space for 12 passengers. We do some Instagram stories and TikToks. I'm so silly on social media, but I'm so stressed in real life. I look at all of the mean comments, and of course, proanaxoxo. All motivation to starve myself!
We pull up to this tea house called The London Tea House Merchant. Here we go. I take a deep breath and I step out of the Uber. Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna aren't here. Luckily, there's an outdoor menu.
We all look at the menu. There's this mango pear white tea that they offer in decaf, and it has 0 calories! Perfect! Sweet enough that I won't need any honey or sugar. Before I can look at the pastries menu, Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna arrives.
We all enter and get a table. A kid's table and an adult table. We all chat about next week's pyramid. My bets are Sarah, Hannah, Brady, me, Elliana, and then Gia on top. A lady comes up and we place our orders.
Hannah and Gia get a basic white tea, I get my mango pear white tea, Brady gets a peach oolong, and Pressley and Sarah get some jasmine green tea. We clink our cups, albeit very carefully. It's actually really good. British tea is so good.
"So are you guys excited to see what the solos and the group dances are going to be?" Hannah asks.
"Yeah, I hope Hannah, Gia, or Pressley get the lead," Brady chips in.
"Is that because we've never gotten the lead?" Pressley asks.
"Yup," Brady remarks, popping the p.
"That's sweet, but like I said earlier in this trip, I don't think it's happening," Hannah says quietly.
"Ok, this is too sad. Since our trip is almost over, why don't we share the best part of our trip?" Gia suggests.
"It's got to be Pleasure Beach," I answer.
Gia agrees, "Yeah."
"What are you talking about? It has to be meeting all the fans and dancing for all of them!" Pressley squeals.
"I agree with Press on this one," Brady agrees.
"I think today is my favorite day," Hannah chimes in.
"Alright, agree to disagree," Sarah diffuses.
We all agree to that and keep having our tea. I'm going to need this when I get home. Then the ladies come and ask for pastries. I order the single Jammy Dodger. Going to have to save calories for the English breakfast. 85 calories. You shouldn't be having the Jammy Dodger when you're already going to be having an English breakfast, Lilliana. How careless.
The strawberry jam is good with the biscuit. All the other girls and Brady order the Jammy Dodgers too. They're thinking the same thing, I guess. I have to admit, if I ever get help, which is unlikely to happen, this is something to look forward to.
The moms are still chatting and having their tea with Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna, so Pressley and I begin to think of a packing strategy and timezone drama. Personally, I need to throw away my razor discreetly, and make sure one of my sweatsuits doesn't stink.
"This is sure going to be one event to remember!" Hannah exclaims.
"I'll cheer for that with our empty teacups!" Sarah jokes.
"Cheers!" we all cheer one last time before the moms come over to us.
"Are you guys ready to go back to the hotel for some packing?" Ann asks, trying to make us excited.
"No, I don't ever want to leave!" I exclaim.
"Too bad! Let's go!" Ashley says.
I reluctantly get out of my chair and exit, the moms ordering once again the same Uber. Yeah, this is happening. His name is Jarrod. He's actually becoming part of our conversations, since he's driven us so far, two to be three times.
I mainly hide in the corner looking at proanaxoxo. All the skinny girls. All the thigh gap, the flat stomach, the ribs, everything. To die for. Of course, Hannah and Gia often peek at my phone so to not give up my cover, I just click on a story from Coco or Kameron or Katie.
"Hey, Lilly, smile!" Mom whispers and I immediately set my phone down, careful so that Mom doesn't get a glimpse of my screen, smiling.
"Does my makeup look good?" Hannah asks.
I scan her face. Beauty as always. I nod, give her a thumbs up, and look back at my phone. So many distractions. I just want to look at my inspiration. My thinspiration.
Over the car ride, I find two more pro ana accounts. Perfect. More motivation! You have to be skinny to be a good dancer, Lilliana. Before I can look at even more accounts for motivation, we arrive at the hotel.
"See you guys soon!" Jarrod exclaims jokingly, and I give a small pity chuckle.
It's now twelve o'clock. Pressley and I go with our moms for lunch to the next door pizza place once again. I order a slice of pepperoni pizza to go, and so does Pressley. The moms are going to stay down here, I guess. It comes in this triangle box, since the pizza place does only slices.
"Do not get any on your dresses! Ms. Abby paid good money for them!" Mom warns us as we go to our hotel room.
"Don't worry!" I shout back, fully knowing not a smidge of sauce will get on my dress, because I won't be eating any.
Immediately, once the door closes, I take off my sandal heels and I give my slice to Pressley, who frowns.
"You need something to eat other than a jam cookie," Pressley whines, shoving back the slice.
"I'm going to have the English breakfast for dinner at the restaurant. A cheese pizza slice has extra calories on top of the calories I don't want for dinner," I say, pushing the slice to her.
"No," Pressley deadpans, pushing it back.
"I'm going to throw this up if you don't eat it," I threaten, instantly feeling bad when the words leave my mouth.
"Fine, but I don't like feeding the voice in your head," Pressley caves, letting out an exasperated sigh.
I smile, even though I feel really really bad. She's going to ruin her figure for mine. Oh well. I turn on the TV and Henry Danger is playing. I lean back as Pressley eats both our slices. Lunch: avoided successfully.
"This show is so weird. Like, remember the one time Piper said she loved Henry Danger, not knowing it was her own brother?" Pressley asks, and I chuckle.
"I didn't get that when I watched that episode but now I remember," I answer, and we begin to laugh our heads off, Pressley almost choking on her pizza.
She, luckily, doesn't spill any sauce on her dress as her supply of pizza slowly diminishes throughout the episode. By the end of the half hour, she's finished both slices of pizza.
"Alright, let's start packing," Pressley announces.
"We need our toiletries, well, at least our hairbrush if we don't brush our teeth in the morning." I reason, starting in the bathroom.
"There are some hotel complimentary makeup wipes that we can use tonight," Pressley strategizes.
"We also still have shampoo, conditioner, and body wash leftover," I add, as we are packing up stuff in our toiletry bags.
"So we leave out our hairbrushes, toothpaste, and toothbrushes?" I confirm, and Pressley nods.
"Yeah, plus your meds, and if you want, all of those bandages and gauze you have," Pressley innocently remarks.
"Oh, yeah, those," I warily reply, leaving them out.
Shit, she noticed them. Oh well, it doesn't really matter if she doesn't know the reason why I have the bandages. I leave them out with my toothbrush and bubblegum toothpaste and move on to the main room.
I start smelling my sweatsuits. The one I wore on the first one, the kelly green ones, are good enough. I lay them out and pack the rest, even my phone, and what the hell, even my stuffed llama. You don't deserve comfort, Lilliana. The stuffed llama should go in the garbage with your razor.
"Can you sit on my suitcase for me?" I ask, struggling to zip it up.
"Mhmm," Pressley mutters, climbing over her bed to sit on my suitcase.
"Careful, careful, here, let me zip it," Pressley grumbles, both of us struggling to zip it.
After many minutes of a struggle, the zipper finally goes all the way around my bursting suitcase. My phone, medicine, toothbrush, toothpaste, sweatsuit, razor, bandages, and gaue are the only things standing.
"What's the time," Pressley asks me.
"One twenty-eight," I report, checking my phone.
"So what do we do until five-thirty? We have like, four hours, fancy dresses and nothing to- oh hold on, Sarah just texted me," Pressley says, looking at her phone.
"Ferb, I know what we're gonna do today!" Pressley exclaims, practically dragging me to the elevator.
"What is happening?" I giggle when I see Sarah, also still in her fancy dress, suddenly handed Pressley's phone.
"Play this song preloaded on TikTok. Follow us around with the camera. Three, two, one," Pressley explains.
I quickly press start and this song that's called Sally Walker starts playing. All of a sudden, they start breaking into this intense hip-hop. I follow them around, improvising some close-ups, zoom outs.
"Ok, that was crazy! Take a look," I say, and they crowd around the phone.
"First try! Let's go!" Pressley and Sarah cheer.
"It is now one thirty-five, so we have four hours still," I state.
"Sarah, wanna come up to our hotel room and watch some Nick," Pressley asks.
"Sorry, I gotta pack," Sarah declines.
"It's ok. C'mon, Lilly," Pressley motions.
"Bye!" we all exclaim.
She didn't want to hang out because of your fat ass, Lilliana. We go up the elevator and return back to our home.
"And now I present a Victorious marathon," Pressley announces, turning on the television.
For the next four hours, it's filled with laughs, giggles, Victorious, songs, drama, dilemmas, and seeing Ariana Grande being dumbed down to someone with the voice and the IQ of a lollipop. Nice distraction from the English breakfast.
Of course, every good thing must come to an end. I nearly start to cry when our set alarm for five-thirty goes off. Instead, I groan, rolling over to turn off the television and put back on my silver sandal heels.
"Excited?" Pressley asks, and I shake my head no.
"Well come on!" Pressley says excitedly, trying to make me happier, once again dragging me to the lobby.
Everybody else is already there. I sit on the tan chair in the lobby and stay silent, deep in panicky thought. I'm going to gain twenty pounds with this meal. I've earned this, though. I've lost at least twenty-three pounds. Even if I gain twenty pounds, I'll still have lost three pounds.
"Lilly," Brady says.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Uber's here. Sit next to me," he orders.
"Is that seriously Jarrod?" Hannah exclaims in front of us.
"Good evening!" Jarrod yells back, and we all burst into laughter.
I climb in the car next to Brady. I'm so scared and nervous. My foot is twitching and my leg is bouncy. Brady places a hand on my leg to try to calm me down, but it doesn't work. It's still bouncing and shaking.
I try to focus on the pretty scenery, and the slow sunset. I feel like this car ride is going by so slowly, even though the restaurant is like, fifteen minutes away. I wish I had my Airpods so I could listen to music.
All the other kids are debating what the best candle scent is, getting into a huge debate over floral vs. fruit. I always found fruit scents more attractive than flower scents, but I don't want to pitch in.
Eventually we stop at the restaurant. It looks like a diner, but United Kingdom-ized. I gulp and shake a bit in fear. I can do this. I can do this. You're still technically losing weight if you gain twenty pounds.
"See you guys later!" Jarrod exclaims out the window.
The moms tip him a bit, laugh at his joke, and we all enter the building. Soft music is playing in the background, and the stools are a muted red. Very pretty. A blonde haired waitress comes towards.
"Hi we're with Abby, party of 14," Ann claims.
"Right this way!" the girl exclaims cheerily, leading us to a back area with a humongous table.
"Hello everybody!" Ms. Abby proclaims as we enter the room.
"Hi!" we all exclaim back, taking our seats.
I sit next to Gia on one side, and Michelle on the other side. I look at the menu, and luckily, there is a kid's full English breakfast. Kid's menu means less calories and smaller portion sizes. I do the math in my head.
One fried egg: 90 calories. Two strips of bacon: 86 calories. A sausage link: 190 calories. One disc of black pudding: 297 calories. ¼ cup of baked beans: 196 calories. One grilled tomato: 33 calories. ¼ cup of mushrooms: 4 calories. One slice of toast: 75 calories. Total amount of calories: 873 calories.
That's so much. That's more than the first day of my regimented diet I started eight weeks ago. If I eat everything under 100 calories, which is the egg, the strips of bacon, the grilled tomato, the mushrooms, and the slice of toast, that adds up to 288 calories. Phew.
I am never having sausage, black pudding, or baked beans ever again. Fear food list immediately. I order water and I can feel the waiter's sting and immediate hatred when we all order a full English breakfast. Six kids breakfast and eight adult breakfasts.
"We will be waiting here for four hours! Fourteen full English breakfasts. Wow," Brady says.
"Well, while we wait, why don't we talk about next week?" Ms. Abby suggests, and we all agree.
We go into specifics about outfit coordination, jetlag, schedules, etc. It's all super boring. The only thing I hear is that we'll be taking ballet, contemporary, and jazz on Tuesday, we're supposed to wear our red and black hoodie combo, and to get some sleep on the plane.
By the time we finish with that, we still haven't gotten dinner yet. I'm honestly still terrified about the breakfast. I've managed to gain three new fear foods within three minutes, and I need to come up with a brand new regimen.
I need to make sure I'm still eating something. I'm still wishy-washy on recovery, but if I decide to recover, I need to make it to at least the finale. Nationals are in early June, so I need to make it through the rest of April, the entire May, and some length of June.
What if I eat 300 every day? No, that's too much? What if I do 200? I still feel like that's too much. What if I do 150 calories every other day, and fast on the others? 450-600 calories per week. Perfect.
Suddenly, a bunch of people carrying our meals come towards us. Five people in fact. An entire meal is placed in front of me. I should probably start with the most caloric thing I'm willing to eat first: the fried egg.
Of course it has runny yolk. Caden always called me weird for not liking runny yolk. I cannot be the only one that doesn't like runny yolk. I see about half of the people frown at the runny yolk at the table. Vindicated.
Eggs have always been one of the foods I've been willing to eat while I've been down this awful but delightful path, so I eat it with no hesitation. It's actually pretty good, and the no salt adds a bit of blandness that gives me joy. Bland equals safe to me.
Next, the two strips of bacon. They're salty, and have a lot of fat, but they're low in calories and really tasty. Plus, if I didn't eat the bacon, I'd be a total weirdo amongst everybody.
After that is the toast. It has a small amount of butter, so I'm not too jazzed. But I eat it anyway. I feel like a failure, eating all this food, but in the back of my mind, it actually feels good to... eat. Stop thinking like that, Lilliana. Shame on you!
Then we have the grilled tomato. I do not like grilled tomatoes, and my stomach feels like it's about to burst. But I need to eat it to seem normal against everybody else. It would also be disrespectful to Ms. Abby.
Last, we have the mushrooms. I am on the verge of having a mental breakdown in front of everybody. My stomach hurts so much, I've definitely gained twenty pounds. Definitely going to puke this up later. I barely manage to choke them down before I stop eating the plate.
Of course, I am the smallest, so it makes sense that I barely ate half of the dinner. Even the adults and the other kids can barely stomach more than I can. Small groans of discomfort are made amongst us. Just another reminder of how much of a disappointment I am.
Ms. Abby begins to make a speech, "I'd say this is the perfect way to cap off our UK Tour. This has been an amazing journey and it would never be possible without any of you amazing dancers and," Ms. Abby lets out a big sigh, "I guess, even the mothers."
"Thank you," we all exclaim.
This tour could have been done without you, Lilliana. You're just a waste of space. I put on a fake smile, and as Ms. Abby pays the check, Mom takes some final hurrah photos. In two days, we'll be back in the studio. Back doing our passions full-time.
We all exit the restaurant and Tricia orders an Uber. We all hug Ms. Gianna and Ms. Abby goodbye. Won't see them until Tuesday. Of course, Jarrod comes and picks us up. He greets us with a smile and a wave as we enter the car.
I feel the food churning in my stomach, mixed with a tremendous amount of guilt. I sit next to Mom, so I can't look suspicious. Luckily, everybody is tired like me, so I literally just have to do what I normally do: stay silent.
I rest my head on Mom's shoulder, yawning. I need to stay awake. I can't fall asleep in this really fancy dress, which is starting to itch my legs. I guess that's a sensation that will keep me awake.
"You group has actually been really fun to drive around! Best of wishes to you all!" Jarrod exclaims as we approach the hotel.
"Thank you!" we all shout back as we exit Jarrod's vehicle, and the moms give him a pretty big tip.
"We have a surprise for you all. All of you guys are on the same flight! So get some rest!" Joanne reveals as we all say goodnight.
Pressley is very bubbly and excited about seeing everybody on the flight when we go up the stairs. I'm excited too, but I'm also super tired, so I just nod warily and make the occasional mumble of agreement.
"I call getting a shower first because if I don't, I will literally pass out while you take one," I beg.
"Okay," Pressley agrees, whipping out her phone to look at TikTok.
I grab my sweatsuit and I go into the shower. Last day with my razor. Oh, you've treated me so well over the past month. I guess this is the final farewell. But before that, I throw up my full English breakfast. No nosebleed, no tears, just puke.
I enter the shower and I grab my razor. I ate so much today, but I threw up. Five cuts. My skin can barely get cut by the razor. It's so dull. I'm so excited to get a sharp one. And I'm also excited to start weighing myself again.
I don't even need band-aids. That's how shallow I go. I brush out my hair and teeth, adding my kelly green sweatsuit onto my body. I am so close to falling asleep. I quickly bag up the rest of my toiletries, throw away my razor, and go to the main room. I hang my dress on a chair and go to my bed.
"Goodnight," I groan, throwing the covers over me.
As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm out. This tour has certainly been a trip to remember.
~~~~~