My hand trembled as I struggled to open my locker, finally succeeding after exerting more effort than usual. Damn low blood pressure.
It's been a week after sectionals and, yeah, I still haven't learned my lesson. Trying to eat normally without gaining weight is far more trialing for me than other people since I'm trying to prevent becoming obese like my mom. Appearances are everything in this world and if I want to be respected, I must have the perfect body. Restricting what I eat and purging what I do eat is only part of the process.
Sure, Artie and Tina are pretty pissed that I ruined our chance of winning sectionals and of course I feel awful about it, but if I want to be respected and successful in life, I have to have the perfect body—whatever it takes. Growing up and watching my mom suffer because of her overeating and obesity really opened my eyes to how conceited and judgmental the world is. First appearances are everything , so by being supermodel thin, I have a better chance at making a good first impression to people who judge books by their covers.
Sweat beads formed on my forehead and I could feel that dreaded panicky feeling rush through my body, causing my heart to beat rapidly and my breathing become shorter. I began to feel dizzy from skipping both breakfast and lunch today and my stomach roared with hunger pains. I dropped my book bag on the hallway floor and covered my head with my hands, trying to block out the rush of students, all of whom were scrambling to go home since it was the end of the day, and calm myself down before I had a full-blown panic attack. You're fine. Just breathe. In, out.
"Marley?" Ryder's voice rang clear through the cluster of voices in the hallway. I removed my hands and looked into his concerned eyes, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you alright?"
Ryder. Lately it seemed like he's the only one who doesn't hate me for fainting during our performance. He had been really supportive this week and always tried to cheer me up when Tina or Artie slipped in a snide comment towards me during Glee. Ryder's also always found ways to hug me or touch my hand, which I didn't mind in the least since Jake and I broke up. It seems like my feelings for him have grown deeper and deeper everyday and I feel foolish now for choosing Jake over him.
Jake broke up with me the night after the performance. Personally, I think he was just embarrassed by me. I mean, why wouldn't he be? Marley Rose—the girl with the obese mom, deadbeat dad, and hated by half of the Glee Club because she's weak. When Jake left my house that night after ending it, I was furious, not at him, but myself. I felt like I could never fix what was wrong with me, which was everything. The only thing I can control is my weight. Turning down food makes me feel powerful and if I can't change the other ugly aspects of myself, I sure can make certain that I become acceptably thin.
I felt his strong palm touch my forehead. "Marley, you look like a ghost. Do you feel okay?"
I knew that if I didn't get out of this crowded hallway quick, I would faint in front of everyone.
"I need to get out of here," I barely choked out. He sensed my urgency and closed my locker, reached down to pick up my book bag, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me towards the nearest empty classroom. His protective arm instantly made me feel secure, a feeling much stronger than Jake could ever give me.
Once we were safely inside, he closed the door and grabbed a chair for me to sit in. The cool air greatly contrasted from the stuffy hallway and I welcomed it eagerly, but I still felt woozy.
"Put your head between your knees," Ryder ordered as he fetched another chair for himself and sat beside me. I did as he asked and he placed his hand on my back, a comforting gesture that I was used to by now. I focused on breathing through my nose and out of my mouth as the fainting sensation slowly disappeared.
After a few minutes, I lifted my head and gave him a weak smile. He wore a plain white t-shirt with a blue jean jacket and his silky, brown hair was swooped to the side like always. Man, that boy was a dreamboat. "Thanks for getting me out of there. I was just so overwhelmed by all of those people and I got claustrophobic. Sometimes for little reasons like that I get panic attacks and-"
"Please spare me the act, Marley. I know you don't have claustrophobia." His hand moved away from me and settled on the back of my chair.
I cleared my throat and flicked my eyes away from his tense gaze, instead focusing on wringing my hands in my lap. "You don't know that."
"Well, I know that something is wrong, something that is more harmful and dangerous for your health than claustrophobia. Are you still purging?"
"Look, I gotta get home. If you'll excuse me." I rose from my chair, refusing to have this conversation again with him, but he caught me by my arm and stood up.
"Please Marley, we need to talk about this," he pleaded.
I wrenched my arm out of his grasp, even though it ripped my heart out doing it. "No we don't, Ryder. I have nothing to talk about with you, my mom, or that stupid psychologist that I'm forced to go to. It is my business, not anyone else's."
I reached down and slung my book bag over my shoulder and walked towards the door.
"Let me at least drive you home. I don't want you walking home in this weather." He motioned upwards towards the sound of the thumping rain pellets and bellowing thunder. I considered his offer for a moment, realizing that Mom wouldn't have time to drop me off since she has to rush to her second job and risking getting struck by lightning by walking didn't sound too pleasant.
"Alright," I agreed before pointing my finger at him and warning, "but no talking about you-know-what".
"Scout's Honor." Ryder held up his hand and his face looked so solemn that I couldn't help but giggle. The corners of his mouth curved into that adorable grin that I missed so much as he chuckled with me.
He held out his arm to me and said with a dreadful British accent, "Shall I walk you to your carriage, Miss Rose?"
"Why you certainly may, Mr. Lynn," I said, curtsying and mimicking his accent. Placing my hand on his arm, we marched out of the classroom and through the halls, pretending to complain about everything like pretentious snobs. It took us fifteen minutes to get to his truck because we couldn't help but keel over in laughter every couple of minutes.
Thanks for reading! Please make sure you follow the story because I promise I'll have the next chapter up soon! I'd also love if you could write a review, I need all the advice I can get. Cheers!
