| |
Vanessa
I wiped down the handlebars on my bike, trying not to think too much. I was at my father’s house with Lynne, cleaning my bike and getting it ready for the charity ride. I kept it stored in my father’s garage. I really didn’t care to ride it any more than I had to, which had eventually meant to just things like this.
But, since I told my dad I would go with him on the charity ride, I had to get it cleaned and ready for the event. Vance was set to come in later that afternoon, and I really wanted to get the bike done before he got there. He had taken his bike with him when he left, but I figured that would be what he rode when he came up here to meet us.
I tried not to care. Zach had seemed pretty insistent on just focusing on the fact this was going to be a one-time event, then he would leave and things could go back to normal for us. He was right. I just had to get through the event, then my brother would be gone and I could go back to hiding in another town.
Lynne was sitting in the back of my dad’s truck. We left the tailgate down and put the bucket of soap and water on the back. She had a beer in one hand, and was messing around with her phone while she talked to me. But then, she got a mischievous look on her face as she grabbed my phone from beside the bucket of water.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked as she pointed it at me.
“Filming you,” she said with a grin. “You look like such a little bad girl over there with your hands all over that bike. Think what you-know-who will do when he sees this!”
She laughed and held the phone out of the way as I lunged for it. I didn’t want her to send any messages to Zach, and though I didn’t think she really would, I didn’t want to risk it. She didn’t need to see what we said to each other, that was for damn sure.
But suddenly, everything went black. I couldn’t see, and I felt lightheaded. The ground seemed to spin out from beneath me as my legs quit working. I heard Lynne scream my name, but she sounded far away. I was falling backward, but I was completely unconscious before my head hit the pavement.
I slowly opened my eyes. The sound of the heartrate monitor was the first thing I recognized, then the smell of being in a hospital room. I was lying down, my back and head propped up with the incline of the bed, and there was a bandage around my forehead, covering where I’d smacked my head on the pavement. I had a splitting headache, I felt incredibly weak, and there was a jabbing pain in my arm where the IV was dripping fluids.
I didn’t even have to open my eyes to guess what had happened. But, I knew I had to face the music sooner or later, and the longer I laid here with my eyes closed, the worse it was going to be when I finally opened them.
At last, I forced myself to flutter the lids open, glancing around the room. I wasn’t surprised to see my father and Lynne sitting on opposite sides of the bed. Vance was walking back and forth, his hands in his pockets. They all looked worried, and they rushed forward when they saw that I was waking.
“Vanessa? Baby? Are you okay?” My father had his hand over mine, and I could hear the fear in his voice. Of course, this wasn’t going to help my insistence that I was fine or that I didn’t need to move back home. He was badgering me with questions, but I was still trying to find my voice.
My throat felt dry, and I was sick to my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was the nerves I felt for being in the hospital again, or if it had something to do with the IV. Hell, I hadn’t eaten anything in four days. I’d had an energy drink a couple of times, plus beer, but that was about it. As far as any real food went, I had avoided it.
Even when Zach was trying to get me to eat something.
I looked around the room. Vance said nothing as he stood at the end of my bed, his hands in his pockets. He looked worried, which surprised me. We hadn’t been anything remotely like friends since the day he left, not even the fact that we were twins was enough to keep him around, and I had never fully forgiven him for it.
Hell, there was a part of me that even blamed him for not being there for me the last time things got bad. It was far easier for him to abandon me and head off to his fancy new life in San Francisco. That was part of the reason I didn’t want him to come back, part of what I couldn’t bring myself to tell Zach when he was asking about my stress.
“Alright, everyone, I hear that the patient is awake. Can I ask you to give us a few minutes so I can ask her some questions?” A nurse suddenly appeared, pushing her way through the faces crowding around me.
“Can I just make sure she’s alright?” my father asked, looking over his shoulder and clearly worried. But the nurse only gave him a reassuring smile as she put her hands on his shoulders.
“That’s what I’m here for. Just take a step outside the door, and I’ll call you back in as soon as we get some information out of her. She’s going to be just fine, I can assure you,” she said. “Please, the sooner I can talk to her, the sooner you can come back in.”
Reluctantly, the three of them left, and the nurse turned her attention to me. I knew what was coming, and I braced myself for it. Not only did she ask me extensive questions about my eating habits, but she also asked about my mental health.
The two things now went hand-in-hand. Before, it was just something people accused me of doing for vanity. Others thought that I didn’t eat because I was afraid of gaining weight. Others just thought that I was playing games. But, I knew the real problem was that I didn’t feel like I had any control in my life, and by refusing to eat, I was showing the world – and myself – that I did have something to control.
I was exhausted by the time the nurse was done. I didn’t want to talk to my father, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. When she asked if he could come back in, I just nodded. I knew what he was going to say, and I didn’t have any real answers for him.
I was relieved to see that he was alone when he returned and sat down. I wasn’t sure where Lynne or my brother had gone, but I didn’t want to talk to either one of them right now, either. I braced myself for the lecture I was sure was coming, but to my surprise, he said nothing.
He took my hand and just sat there, staring down at the IV dripping vitamins and minerals into my arms, a look of utter disappointment on his face. I never saw him look like that when he was talking to or about my brother, even though I knew they didn’t have the best relationship.
The old feeling of being a failure returned, and I sighed. I hated feeling like the loser between me and my brother. But wasn’t I?
Finally, Dad spoke. “I’m going to be looking into rehab for you.”
“I don’t need to go to rehab,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“You passed out from lack of nutrients. When is the last time you ate anything?” he asked.
I felt myself growing defensive. I wanted to tell him to get out of my room and leave me alone. But, I said nothing. It was none of his business when the last time I ate was. I didn’t ask about his eating habits, so I didn’t need to tell him about mine.
“You are going to kill yourself if you let that disease take over again,” he warned. “Last time, you almost died. It’s a miracle you didn’t!”
“I gained weight! Look at me! Last time, I was skin and bones, this time you can see that I have curves! I’m a healthy weight!” I argued. I knew it didn’t matter. My body wasn’t able to sustain me no matter what I weighed when I did that to myself. I had to eat real food, or I risked having something bad happen.
I knew I was lucky. I had only passed out. Hell, it could have been a lot worse. Even young women had heart attacks when they didn’t take care of themselves, and it was no secret that I wasn’t taking care of myself. It didn’t matter what I had been doing up until last week. Letting anorexia take control was a rapid path to me dying.
And, I knew it.
“You know that doesn’t matter. There is more to this than you just not eating. You are not going to starve yourself down to nothing again. I’m not going to stand by and watch it happen. You’re already passing out, what do you think is going to happen if you keep going like this? You will die!” My father’s voice was growing louder, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the nurse stepped in and asked him to leave.
They weren’t going to allow him to talk to me like this in the condition I was in, and I was glad for it. I closed my eyes and pretended to be resting as the nurse walked in.
“Sir, I think it’s time that we give the patient rest. She needs to recover, then we can talk about next steps,” she said.
“You bet your ass we’re going to talk about next steps,” he growled as he rose from his seat. He was clearly pissed, but he wasn’t going to make a bigger scene. I didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t going to respond. I had the nurse on my side right now, and I was going to make the most of it.
But as he left, I felt a wave of worry wash over me. He was right. I had to get this under control or something bad was going to happen, and I didn’t want to go through rehab again.
I didn’t want to go through any of the pain of this eating disorder again. I just wanted to be better.
I wanted Zach.