boy from our class hurries down the hallway to the room, nodding at us as he passes. Antonia pulls me toward the wall and begins to whisper. “Look, I want to go out with Heather. Remember I told you about her? The girl from the track team?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Antonia. I’m totally cool with you going out with a girl. But I still don’t want to be your third wheel. It’ll be so awkward.”
“I want to make her feel more comfortable.”
“If she doesn’t want to go on a solo date, why can’t we just have a kick back or something? We could hang out at my house. Or yours.”
“It’s not the same. We need to go out together. I want her to feel accepted. She hasn’t told anyone she’s gay. I just think she’s going to feel more comfortable going out as like a group of friends. It’ll lessen the pressure.”
“I still don’t see how my going makes sense,” I say. “I don’t want to get in the way of your romance.”
“Well...” Antonia hesitates. “There’s something else. My cousin Mika is coming into town that weekend and my parents said I had to take her out to do something, but that happens to be the night I agreed to go with Heather. I can’t get around it.”
“So...” I cross my arms, waiting to hear the rest of Antonia’s story. I knew there was going to be more to her story. She always withholds information.
“She’s a little weird. Chatty. And I don’t want her to totally take over the date. I need someone to entertain her,” she says, looking up at me with pleading eyes.
The bell rings. I don’t want to be late for class.
“When’s the date?” I ask.
“End of next week,” Antonia says. “Plenty of time to think about it...”
“All right,” I say.
“All right?” She seems shocked I’ve already made up my mind.
“If it’s all about making your date feel accepted, then I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Exactly.” Antonia grabs my shoulder. “What could be wrong with that? I know of an all-ages place we can chill. Lots of people. Bands. Just hang out.”
I guess it’s also a good way to avoid Mason and the rest of my family for at least part of the weekend. Mika can’t be that bad. I’ll just have to make small talk.
“Yeah,” I say. “Sounds like a blast.”
“A dysfunctional family is any family with more than one person in it.”
—Mary Karr
I woke up this morning feeling like crap.
I purged again last night.
Mom made lasagna last night, and I couldn’t help myself. I stuffed down two huge pieces. I can’t gain any more weight, and I’m sick of purging. It feels terrible. My throat’s sore. My back hurts from hurling. My face is puffy. I’ve started developing a sore on one of my knuckles from my teeth scraping against my hand when I stuff my fingers down my throat to make myself vomit.
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