Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek. If I did it would not be rated TV-G.

A/N: I really don't know the nicknames given to people with eating disorders, so I really don't know if the 'bingers' are even called that. Anyways, the computer I'm writing the story on is like, stuck, so I'm uploading these chapters on a different computer. Sorry for the wait. I know in the beginning I updated right away, but I think I'm going to wait until it reaches 150 hits on the new chapter before I post the next chapter. And school is starting in 2 days, which hasn't even registered in my brain yet. Well, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 9… What I'd Change

x o x x o casey's p.o.v. o x x o x

Wednesday marked the next group therapy session. A few of the girls greeted each other with hugs and waves. I only really knew Amy. And she wasn't there yet when I got there. So I just sat there, twisting my hands in my lap again. Finally, Amy slipped in and took the vacant seat next to me in the circle. I really don't know why she even talks to me. I'm definitely not the next best looking after her in this room. I'm probably the worst, judging by what I saw last night.

I looked out at the bunch of us. Most of them just looked like bingers, just chicks who ate a bit less than the normal calorie requirement and exercised a lot, which had their rich parents all worried. I wasn't sure if Amy was just a binger. But while I was at her house we never did get around to eating anything. And I heard grumbles from her stomach every once and a while. Or maybe it was all me. But I'd think that she'd say something.

"What?" I heard Amy ask. I had been staring at her.

"Nothing," I said quickly, looking away to see Lisa approaching our mismatched group. Suddenly I started thinking about Lisa. I mean, she's like a teacher to me. But, with my teachers at school I could talk to them about stuff. But it was stupid stuff, like my grade on a test or a project. Not my tendency to rush to the bathroom and wrench a meal out of my stomach with the help of my trusty toothbrush.

"Alright," Lisa said, taking her seat and the head of the circle, setting her stuff down around her. "Welcome back! You all brought notebooks this time, right?" Most of us nodded simultaneously and pulled out our notebooks. The few that had forgotten whispered pleas for some paper to their friends. "Good. Those will be your journals. Those of you who forgot," she said, with a little laugh, "don't worry about it. Just try to remember next time. So, I suppose you're wondering what exactly we'll need those notebooks for. Well, today we're going to write up lists. Two to be exact. In one list, I want you to write down some of the things you like about yourself, as far as your body goes. And in the other I want you to write the things you'd change. Don't worry, this is all confidential," Lisa finished. A few of them had begun writing already. Lisa passed out pencils to the people who needed them and then they were off. And so I decided to get on with it too. I paused when I heard Amy's pencil scratching against the paper frantically. I couldn't help but wonder if it was all for the 'things I'd change' list…

Instead of peeking like I had last week, I just shook my head. It really was none of my business.

"Things I like about myself," I wrote on one side. Then I proceeded to sit there, thinking if there was anything I ready did like about myself. What was the point of this list? At least, to me, there was no point. But like a good sport, I decided I couldn't leave it blank. "My eyes." I figured that would be enough and proceeded to write on the opposite side, "Things I'd change." I figured I'd keep it sweet and short and to the point. "Everything except my eyes." Well, not exactly sweet, but what do you expect in a situation like this?

x o x x o x x o x x o x x o x x o x

"Hey Case," Amy said, bumping me in the shoulder with her elbow after the session as we stood outside. Did I forget to mention she's tall? Yeah, she's about six inches taller than me. "What's up?"

"Not much," I said, squirming in light of what had happened at her house.

"Heh. Your brother still an inconsiderate ass?" she asked, a small smile gracing her glossy lips.

"Actually," I began, remembering last night, but I really didn't want to talk about last night… "Uh, yeah. Nothing new. He was the epitome of inconsiderate asses at dinner last night."

"Oh yeah? What happened?" she said, actually sounding more than just slightly interested.

I was considering telling her what he'd said about her being a lesbian party girl. And before I could stop myself, I blurted out, " 'Make anymore lesbian friends?' ", mocking how Derek had said it.

There was a pregnant pause, which Amy chose to break with a bitter laugh. "That's rich," she said, in an unreadable tone.

"But… Are you?" I found myself asking, my curiosity evident.

"No," she scoffed. "I suppose he told you I party hard as well…Well, I have partied hard in the past, but I swear, I gave it up a long time ago," she said, looking out in the distance at a tree across the street. After a few seconds of silence passed, she laughed. "I had to get my stomach pumped once," she said, her smile still on her face. I just looked at her, furrowing my brows. How would you smile at a memory like that? "Yeah, that wasn't much fun," she said, still laughing.

"I'll bet," I mumbled.

"Yeah, anyways, my birthday is Friday night. The big one eight. I'm having a party. Can I you make it?" she asked. "I promise we won't party… Too hard," she said, a sly smile playing on her face.

I felt my face freeze and my eyes locked on her. She was crazy if she thought I would even have a sip of beer. But she looked so hopeful that I'd come… And after all, someone had to be there to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble. "Sure," I said. "What time do you want me to be there?"

"Oh any time after 6," she said. Then she nodded towards something behind me. "That your mom?" I turned to see my mom leaning over the steering wheel, and jerking her head in a gesture for me to get in the car.

"Yeah…" I said, letting my voice trail off into the wind.

"Alright. See you Friday," Amy said, taking brisk steps to her car, looking over her shoulder at me to smile one last time.

"Who was that?" my mom asked as I buckled in.

"Oh. That's Amy," I said. "She goes to my school." I was nervous. I wasn't sure how comfortable I was talking about Amy to my mom. Like she'd trust anything I say. Well, I guess she has an adequate reason not to trust me…

"Oh," my mom said. "Well, she looks quite a bit older than you," she said, playing that overprotective parent card. Like I said, I can't blame her. But this whole thing about everyone treating me like I'm going to split down the middle and crack open is really getting to me…

"Yeah," I said, looking back out at the parking lot. "She's turning eighteen on Friday. Can I go to her party? I uh, kinda said I would," pretending to adjust my seat belt to avoid the 'I-don't-know' expression on her face.

"I don't know…" See? What'd I tell you… "I mean, is she the one… The one Derek mentioned?"

I just sighed. "Yeah, but mom, she told me herself just now she's not a lesbian, it's just a rumor," I said, not sure who exactly I was trying to convince.

"Well, I mean, as long as I can meet with her parents before Friday, then I don't see the problem. And as long as they'll be there during the party," she said, every once and a while moving her hands animatedly along the steering wheel.

"Oh," I said. Well, considering I've never even met her parents before, I wasn't so sure that was going to happen… I don't even know Amy's phone number. Or where her locker is. Or what her classes are. I know almost nothing about her! Except that her car is a pretty shade of blue… Okay I'm getting way ahead of myself… "Uh, I met them. Very protective. Even more than you and George," I said, my hands meeting above my lap to twist in anxiety. I really do hate lying. Especially to her. But just like everything else bad, do it once, do it twice, then it becomes a habit…

"Ha ha," she said, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. It was the first time I'd seen her do anything remotely close to a smile since that night in the basement… "Very funny. Well… Alright. When does it start?"

Wow. This is definitely a surprise. I expected her to keep pushing to meet them. But maybe she's opting to wait until we get home to call the FBI and get a full background report. I wouldn't put it past her…

"6."

"Alright. Well then, lets make a deal. You come with me to the doctor's to get diagnosed and I'll let you stay until 11," she said, her voice faltering at 'doctor's'. Wait… What about the doctor's? Get diagnosed? As bulimic? Who wants that?

"What?" I asked, my eyes staying intently on her face.

"Well, we uh, need to diagnose you as… as bulimic," she said, pulling into our driveway and cutting the engine, throwing me a cautious glance.

"Why?" I said, well, sort of screamed. Why did I need to be diagnosed as having a history with bulimia? Why'd I need to go and make sure there's a big black mark on my health record? "I mean, what good will it do?"

"Casey, we just need to do it," she said, that and-that's-that tone apparent in her voice.

"If I do… do I have to get treated?" I asked. I still don't know how I feel about getting treated. But it would be so… Strange… I mean, making weight gain a goal, rather than evading it like the plague? I don't know if I could handle that…

"No, we can't afford it… But Casey, we have to do this. They need to know…" she said, reaching over and taking one of my dry calloused hands in hers, frowning slightly at the feeling and rubbing her thumb gently over my knuckles.

I closed my eyes tightly, hoping she wouldn't comment. "Alright," I answered, taking my hand out of hers and placing it on the door handle. "Deal," I added, leaving her there in the car to go into the house.

Hey, I owed her this much… And so much more.