Part Four:
Father was beginning to notice that I wasn't eatting dinner with him and
Mama anymore. So one morning, he said, "Well, Manualla, I hope you'll
be ready to join us for dinner tonight." Crap crap CRAP! What was I going
to do?
I couldn't eat lunch with Emma that day, either: she'd really been getting
on my case about not eatting. Instead, I spent my lunch by myself in the
M.I. lab. Mr. Simpson wasn't around. I was all alone there.
So I logged onto the Internet and went to yahoo.com. I remembered an
article in a teen magazine I'd read about pro-ana websites. I decided to
find some: maybe they could help me.
I found a great one called "Ana's World". I read some of the tips, in-
cluding some good ones on how to avoid eatting dinner when you're forced
to. I decided to try spitting my bites into my drink and dropping them
into a napkin on my lap.
Dinner that night was nerve-racking. I felt like Father and Mama were
watching me. They weren't, of course: Mama was too busy eatting "dantily"
and Father was too busy stuffing his face. They didn't know that most of
my meal hadn't ended up in my mouth: most of it was floating around in
my cup, some was sitting, squished into the napkin on my lap.
I used this plan everytime Father forced me to eat dinner with them.
Most of the time, I managed to make up an excuse.
As for lunch, Emma was getting sick of sitting with just J.T. and Toby.
She found me one day in the computer lab. Luckily, I hadn't been looking
at the "pro-ana" sites that day: I'd just been looking for info for my
English report.
"Manny, what's your problem?" she demanded. I gave her an innocent look.
"What? I didn't do anything, Em."
"You haven't eatten lunch with us for over a week! What've you been
doing?"
"I have a lot of homework, and-"
"That's a lie. We have all the same classes."
I was stuck. It wasn't as easy lying to my best friend as it was to my
parents. so I sighed. "Em, there's just a lot going on right now. I need
some time to myself, okay?"
She took this the wrong way...or the right way, I don't know what my goal
was. But she said, "Fine, take all the time you need!" and stormed out.
That afternoon in English, I saw her talking to Ms. Kwan. When she was,
she glanced over at me. Uh, oh, what is she saying?!
But Ms. Kwan didn't say anything to me. Huh, guess she just wanted to
stare me down?
We went to work on our reports, which were due in a week. They were about
issues affecting teens. I'd decided to do mine about violence in schools.
Emma was doing hers on perscription drug abuse (so I thought). She didn't
work with me at all that day: she sat by herself, while J.T. and Toby
told me that they were "on my side". "Emma always takes things too far,"
J.T. said.
"I didn't even realize we were fighting," I said, causing the boys to
laugh. Emma shot me a dirty look and went back to work.
So I was fighting with my best friend. So what? At least I didn't have
to eat.
Read and review. Thanks!
Father was beginning to notice that I wasn't eatting dinner with him and
Mama anymore. So one morning, he said, "Well, Manualla, I hope you'll
be ready to join us for dinner tonight." Crap crap CRAP! What was I going
to do?
I couldn't eat lunch with Emma that day, either: she'd really been getting
on my case about not eatting. Instead, I spent my lunch by myself in the
M.I. lab. Mr. Simpson wasn't around. I was all alone there.
So I logged onto the Internet and went to yahoo.com. I remembered an
article in a teen magazine I'd read about pro-ana websites. I decided to
find some: maybe they could help me.
I found a great one called "Ana's World". I read some of the tips, in-
cluding some good ones on how to avoid eatting dinner when you're forced
to. I decided to try spitting my bites into my drink and dropping them
into a napkin on my lap.
Dinner that night was nerve-racking. I felt like Father and Mama were
watching me. They weren't, of course: Mama was too busy eatting "dantily"
and Father was too busy stuffing his face. They didn't know that most of
my meal hadn't ended up in my mouth: most of it was floating around in
my cup, some was sitting, squished into the napkin on my lap.
I used this plan everytime Father forced me to eat dinner with them.
Most of the time, I managed to make up an excuse.
As for lunch, Emma was getting sick of sitting with just J.T. and Toby.
She found me one day in the computer lab. Luckily, I hadn't been looking
at the "pro-ana" sites that day: I'd just been looking for info for my
English report.
"Manny, what's your problem?" she demanded. I gave her an innocent look.
"What? I didn't do anything, Em."
"You haven't eatten lunch with us for over a week! What've you been
doing?"
"I have a lot of homework, and-"
"That's a lie. We have all the same classes."
I was stuck. It wasn't as easy lying to my best friend as it was to my
parents. so I sighed. "Em, there's just a lot going on right now. I need
some time to myself, okay?"
She took this the wrong way...or the right way, I don't know what my goal
was. But she said, "Fine, take all the time you need!" and stormed out.
That afternoon in English, I saw her talking to Ms. Kwan. When she was,
she glanced over at me. Uh, oh, what is she saying?!
But Ms. Kwan didn't say anything to me. Huh, guess she just wanted to
stare me down?
We went to work on our reports, which were due in a week. They were about
issues affecting teens. I'd decided to do mine about violence in schools.
Emma was doing hers on perscription drug abuse (so I thought). She didn't
work with me at all that day: she sat by herself, while J.T. and Toby
told me that they were "on my side". "Emma always takes things too far,"
J.T. said.
"I didn't even realize we were fighting," I said, causing the boys to
laugh. Emma shot me a dirty look and went back to work.
So I was fighting with my best friend. So what? At least I didn't have
to eat.
Read and review. Thanks!