Title: Surviving Exile

Author: Anisky

Summary: Based on my little "Finding Solace" vignette. Lizzie and Miranda enter high school, and change isn't always good.

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Miranda, Gordo, Lizzie, Kate, etc all, do not belong to me. They are the property of Disney Channel.

Reviews: Yes please. All flames will be put towards my annual campfire where I roast yummy marshmallows.

NOTE: This chapter, and subsequent chapters, will involve reference to eating disorders. I DO NOT CONDONE THEM in any way; they are horrible diseases that should be avoided at all costs.

Chapter 3: Vestiges

The car ride over to the Digital Bean was awkward. I was stuck in the front seat, next to Gordo's father, while Lizzie, Gordo and the other girl giggled in the back.

"So, Chelsea," Lizzie announced brightly, "this is my best friend, Miranda. Miranda, this is Chelsea."

I twisted to look back at the girl. Her hair was a wavy dark red, with brown eyes. She looked preppy in her button-down shirt and khaki skirt. I was uncomfortably aware that it was I who looked like an outsider in this group.

"What are you looking at?" Chelsea asked nervously.

I realized that I'd been staring, and blushed. "Nothing. Sorry." I turned around and faced forward, face red and hot.

"Miranda spent the summer in Mexico," Lizzie told Chelsea. It sounded oddly like an explanation. "She only got back a few days ago."

"Yeah?" Chelsea sounded insincerely interested. "How was that?"

"Hot," I answered shortly, staring out of the window as I tried to improve my mood. It had been a bad day, but that was no reason to give a bad impression to potential friends. Yet the annoyance that was welled up in me wouldn't go away. I watched the nice upper-middle class houses zoom by as I tried to think of something else to say. "It was depressing, actually. It was very polluted."

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Lizzie. She looked uncomfortable. I felt a rush of guilt.

"Oh," replied Chelsea. "I liked Mexico. I went to Cancun, though."

With Lizzie's feelings in mind, I managed to stifle my snort.

After uncomfortable silence and shallow conversation in which I did not participate, we finally arrived at the Digital Bean. I was nervous again, and told myself to be nice, to make a good impression. I forced a smile as I walked in behind of Lizzie.

She and Gordo led me to a table with two girls and two guys. All of them, unfortunately, appeared preppy or popular to me. Then again, I'd have thought that Lizzie was too, so maybe I should have given them a chance. I wished fervently that I'd at least changed my shirt. Alas, the offending article was the same now as it had been this morning.

"Now Miranda," chirped Lizzie as we arrived at the table, "This is Mark, Andrew, Michelle, and Gina." She pointed at each in their turn. Mark and Michelle waved, and Andrew smiled at me. Gina, however, looked at me as though I were something foul she'd discovered on her shoe. I fought the urge to shift uncomfortably, and settled for smiling awkwardly. "They were all friends at Jeffeson," Lizzie continued, unaware of my discomfort. "Everyone, this is Miranda."

An awkward wave this time from Yours Truly as we sat down.

"Did you go to Jefferson, too, Chelsea?" I asked lightly.

"No, I'm actually from Boston," replied Chelsea. "I just moved this year."

"Oh," I said. "Cool."

After a pause, Michelle said, "I have English with you. Kate sure hates you."

"Yeah, well, none of us get along very well with Kate Sanders," I said dryly.

Lizzie and Gordo shared a look, but I wasn't sure what it meant.

"What's with your hair?" Gina asked bluntly.

I fingered the offending locks. "Well," I flatered, "I thought it would look cool. It was supposed to wash out by now." I'd added the last part. It was a lie.

Gina looked me up and down and sneered.

"Let's get drinks!" exclaimed Lizzie, breaking the tension. "I'll order. What does everyone want?"

I kept quiet as everyone spoke. Finally Lizzie turned to me.

"Nothing," I fought the urge to mumble and tried to sound perky instead. "I forgot to bring money."

"I'll lend it to you," she offered, but I shook my head. She shrugged and headed for the counter. I shifted and felt my stomach knot up without Lizzie as a buffer between me and the wolves.

Everyone else began talking about their day in High School. I remained silent and listened to everyone else. Who knows, I told myself, I might even get ideas for how to make friends from what they said.

Lizzie bounced back to the table. "Orders in!" she exclaimed. She sat between Gordo and me, and leaned over. Her breath as she whispered in my ear tickled it gently. Goosebumps rose on my arks. "Miranda," she whispered, "is something wrong?"

"Bad day," I hissed back. She nodded and looked sympathetic.

I tried to perk up, I really did, but I didn't see any way to contribute to the conversation without whining. I spent almost an hour sitting there, looking at my hands, faking a laugh when everyone else laughed. Lizzie shot concerned glances at me all evening, and Gina kept scowling. Any time I tried to contribute to the conversation I just felt like an outsider. While this was somewhat natural given the circumstances, Gordo, Lizzie, and Chelsea didn't seem to be having similar problems.

I was relieved when Gordo's dad came to pick us up. I wished that Chelsea weren't coming with us; there would be no time when I could just talk to Lizzie and Gordo.

I got home before my parents, as I'd figured. I hadn't eaten that any day besides a tiny bit of cookie that morning and a few sips of skim milk for lunch, so I went over to the refrigerator and opened it to look it. 'I won't eat anything,' I told myself. 'I'll just look.'

I gazed over the food in the refrigerator, and my eyes fell onto the leftover pizza from last night. There were four pieces. "I'll just have half of one," I said aloud, and took out the container, carefully cutting one of the slices exactly in half and woofing it down. I frowned and wanted more.

I took the other half and told myself, 'I had a really bad day, I deserve some indulgence.' I kept eating, feeling a little better with each bite, until I looked down and realized that all four slices of pizza were gone.

"Shit!" I cried out loud, stepping back from the counter. I threw the tin foil into the trash, and stood there, unsure of what to do, feeling myself starting to panic.

Calories, calories, calories were sitting there, in my stomach. Any comfort that had come from eating the pizza was gone with that realization. I ran upstairs to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror for several long moments. I could see myself expanding in the mirror, getting fat.

I grabbed by toothbrush and leaned over the toilet, shoving the toothbrush far down my throat until I could feel the food rising back up my throat. I gagged several times, hacked and finally threw up horribly. Everything I'd eaten came back up, and I kept dry heaving until there was blood in the toilet.

I stood up and flushed the toilet, then took the tooth brush I'd just shoved down my throat. I rinsed it off, put on toothpaste, and brushed my teeth. I washed myself and looked at my face. I looked okay. I felt better, too. The calories were all gone. Health classes always warned us how dangerous it was, but this was only a one time thing. I'd never done it before. Anyway, I felt perfectly fine. Better than fine; for the first time all day I felt great!

It was only nine o'clock, but I didn't have anything else to do that night, and I felt tired. I pulled on my pajamas and crawled into bed, praying that tomorrow would be better, tomorrow everything would be okay and I'd meet new friends and I would get a handle on everything.