Like I'm drowning, I thought silently. "I'm sad a lot, probably more sad than I was right after he died."

He picked up a pen and drummed it steadily on the desk. "People grieve differently, and there's no exact time frame for how long it takes to get over a loss. You may have been in survival mode after losing your dad, and you suppressed the pain."

"I guess that makes sense. After he died, I was more worried about my sister than dealing with what it meant to live without him. My mother is ..." Explaining my mother would be like teaching a child about nuclear fusion; there was no way to put into a few words what she was like. More importantly, I couldn't detail how she made me feel. "My mother is selfish. Don't get me wrong, she was devastated over losing my dad, but instead of turning to my sister and me for comfort, she became hardened and lashed out at us every chance she got. Maybe it's because my sister and I look so much like our dad and we were a painful reminder of what she lost. We had to learn how to cope on our own."

"How are you coping now?"

The question was almost laughable. "I don't know, probably not well. I feel like part of me died with my father and maybe I'm only half existing in this world." I was surprised by the honesty of my answer. Actually, I couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to Parker. It was as if I had all this stuff bottled up inside and finally found an outlet to get it out.

"Have you found yourself retreating because of this feeling?"

"I guess I've checked out lately. Things that used to be important to me don't seem to matter as much. My grades have taken a nosedive, and I wonder if I should even bother coming back next year to finish my degree. I used to have fun going out with my friends, but now I don't have any motivation to be social.

"But what makes me mad is that everyone around me thinks I have a choice. I don't want to be this way. I fight against these depressed feelings each day, but I'm losing." I was losing so much more than fat in the past months. I was losing my ident.i.ty and becoming someone unrecognizable in the mirror.

He put his pen down and leaned slightly back in his chair. "What made you decide you needed help dealing with your emotions?"

"I've been dating someone since February. Cameron makes me feel like, if I just allowed myself to get over my c.r.a.p, I could be really happy with him. He has all the same qualities I admired in my dad; he's smart, thoughtful, and funny. But because of all of the doubts in my head, I can't give myself fully to him. And I want to. I want to so badly I hate myself for not being the girl he deserves." My fingers nervously twisted the hem of my shirt as I spoke. The embarra.s.sment I had expected over confessing my inadequacies was nonexistent.

We talked for the full hour about my family and Cameron. Time flew by as I divulged information about my crumbling relationships. Parker took a few notes, but mostly he asked me questions to prompt me to talk. I was candid-to a point. I had resolved beforehand to not talk about my diet, and I kept that promise. I had an irrational fear if I confessed how far I was willing to go to stay skinny Parker would try to have me committed for my own safety. I'd taken my Pro-Ana friends' advice very seriously: Never let anyone know the truth about how I was able to stay thin.

Since the semester was drawing to a close, Parker recommended I see him once a week until summer break. It would only mean two more sessions, but he said I could continue therapy with another counselor back home. He also wanted me to learn how to cope with my grief. He gave me some information on bereavement groups I could attend, saying talking about my loss with others could help me heal. When I admitted I hadn't visited my father's gravesite since his funeral, he suggested I find a way to learn how to accept he was gone. I could go to the cemetery, or maybe write my father a letter to express how I'd been feeling.

When I left the student health services building, I felt lighter, no longer hindered by some of my depressed thoughts. Maybe the tide was finally turning for me; I had won Cameron back, and I was finally talking to someone about my problems. It didn't matter that I wasn't being totally forthcoming with Parker; a man wouldn't understand how important it was to be slender and beautiful. Instead of listening to others' voices about how I should eat, I would make my own choices.

My good mood didn't fade, not even when I saw it was my mother calling my cell phone. "h.e.l.lo," I chirped as I walked back toward my room.

"h.e.l.lo darling, glad to finally catch you. Have you been avoiding my calls?"

"No, of course not," I lied easily. "I've been overwhelmed with term papers."

"Well, at least I know it's not me. Lila said you haven't spoken with her since she visited."

I would have to rectify things with Lila immediately. I'd been furious after Cameron told me about Lila's part in revealing my secrets to him. After dodging her calls and emails for a whole week, I decided to let go of my grudge. I'd have to call Lila and let her know I forgave her for going to Cameron behind my back.

"Just been busy," I said.

"Good, I was worried something happened between the two of you while she was with you. She hid out in her room for days when she came back, and the only times I saw her she had a sour look on her face. I swear, Kayla, you have no idea what it's like to raise moody girls. Pray for boys when you have children," she said condescendingly.

I rolled my eyes as I sidestepped a group of students walking in the opposite direction. "Was there a reason for your call?"

"No need to get snippy, Kayla. It wouldn't kill you to call me every once in a while. I am a widow with only a sullen teenage girl for company."

I groaned. I should've figured she'd manipulate me with the guilt card. My mom had a way of always making me culpable for her erratic moods. "Let's not fight; I don't have the energy for it. How are you, Mom?"

"I'm okay enough, I suppose. I did get asked out on a date the other day while I was at the bank."

I wasn't sure why she was sharing this news. Men were constantly asking her out, regardless of her wedding ring. My father had almost come to blows more than once over a man trying to seduce my mother in his presence. In spite of her flaws, I believed she'd been faithful to my father. After his death, her misery was authentic enough I imagined no one would ever be able to replace him in her heart.

"Are you interested in dating?" I wasn't overly concerned about my mom entering the dating pool. I was more concerned about the poor man she managed to ensnare.

"I didn't think so, but I'm still in my forties. It's awfully young to spend the rest of my life alone. And Jake is very handsome! His family comes from money, too, so he drives a fabulous-looking Mercedes." Her voice rose to a high pitch and I could tell how excited she was. Maybe this development was a good thing. A new romance could put less pressure on Lila and me to maintain her impossible standards. To say the least, I wasn't looking forward to a summer at home and under her thumb.

"So, did you agree to go out with him?" I unlocked the outer door to the dorm with my card and pounded upstairs. My roommates' doors were all shut; it was still early enough they were likely still sleeping off the night before.

"We exchanged numbers, but I'm unsure. He's handsome and he has a job at a trading firm in New York, but he's a teensy bit younger than me."

"How much younger?" I was automatically suspicious.

After a lengthy pause, she said, "He's twenty-five."

I stopped in front of my door. "Mom, that's only four years older than me!"

"Well, it's not my fault I don't look my age. I'm not going to be ashamed younger men still find me attractive," she huffed. "I was honest about my age. If he doesn't have a problem with it, why should you?"

Slowly, I drew a breath in, feeling the air expand my lungs, taking the time to calm myself. "It's your life, Mom, but Lila is still at home with you. How do you think she's going to react if you introduce her to a guy that's practically her age?"

"I'll introduce her when I'm ready. Give me some credit, Kayla, I'm not going to simply bring strange men into my home and allow them to be around my daughter. If things get serious, then he can meet you both." Oh lord, I thought, that wouldn't be awkward at all.

"That's good to hear."

"How's your love life? Are you still involved with that idiotic boy?"

"Mom, you've made it perfectly clear you don't like him. Can you try not to resort to name-calling?" I had a few choice names to call her after her admission of dating someone decades younger, but my obedience was still too ingrained to say them.

"I'm your mother; shouldn't I tell you when I think you can do better? He may be marginally good looking." I tightened my grip on the phone. "But he was rude and disrespectful to your family. Not only that, how well off could he be? I can't imagine a credit card rep makes nearly enough money."

I reached for the aspirin on my dresser. I kept it on hand for my headaches, and a new one was starting. "Mom, do we have to argue the entire time we talk? Can't we have a normal conversation for once?"

My mom made an unpleasant noise, but finally sighed in defeat. "Fine. The other reason I called was to make sure you were coming home for Lila's prom next weekend. I'd like us to take some family pictures. We haven't had any since before your father died."

"Yes, of course I'll be there."

A couple of minutes later, I was finally able to hang up. I felt spent, and the good mood that followed my counseling appointment had vanished. In my head, I had a backbone, and I imagined telling my mother to stay the h.e.l.l out of my life. But in reality, I still let her put doubts into my head. It was going to be a long summer at home.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

"Remind me again why I'm helping you move farther away from me?" Cameron grunted as he carried another box toward the front of my house.

"Because you're the best boyfriend ever," I supplied, trailing behind him carrying more of my belongings.

He shook his head. "No, the best boyfriend would throw you over his shoulder and drag you back to his place."

I balanced the box in one hand and reached for his arm. "You know the reason isn't because I don't want to stay with you for the summer ..."

He turned to face me, and I saw the resignation on his face. "I understand you want to be here for Lila. Your sister would be more than welcome to stay with us."

"Cameron, first of all, my mother would never in a million years allow Lila to live with us an hour away from home. Secondly, my sister got a summer job at an ice cream parlor. She starts working in a couple of weeks."

He set the box down on the sidewalk and moved in closer to me. His hand slid down the side of my face, causing me to shiver involuntarily. After months of being together, Cameron could still spark the strongest physical urges in me. His eyes were always what affected me most; they were br.i.m.m.i.n.g with electricity. My eyes were deadened, their l.u.s.ter lost somewhere along the way.

His voice was pained as he spoke. "You've been doing so well these past few weeks. I'm afraid once you're home again, your mom will ruin the progress you've made."

I put my own box down and leaned into him. I looked up at him and smiled. It felt good to be cared about. Cameron would do anything for me and I understood his concern. "I'll be fine," I said. "Parker gave me the numbers of therapists in the area, and I'll make an appointment once I get settled. And it's not like we'll never see each other. I can come down to see you whenever I want or you can make the drive here."

"Judging from the way your mom looked at me the last time, I doubt I'll be welcome here. But you can stay with me as much as you want to. I'm going crazy already knowing I won't see you every day." Cameron brushed back my hair and teased me by brushing his lips across mine. I smiled and leaned into his mouth, pressing my lips roughly against his.

"I'm going to miss you, too," I said as I broke the kiss. I lifted up the box and gestured for him to follow me into the house.

When I crossed the threshold, I understood it was time for the spell to be broken. The last couple weeks of the semester had been flawless. Cameron had been by my side and supportive as I continued my final sessions with Parker. Therapy was an opportunity for me to vent about my mom and reminisce about the good times with my dad. More than once, I'd been on the verge of confessing my extreme dieting to Parker, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I convinced myself it wasn't necessary; I had everything under control.

I spent most nights at Cameron's apartment while studying for my finals. The only time we were apart for a significant amount of time was for a final weekend of partying with my roommates before we all went home for the summer.

But the truth was that, beneath the perfect exterior I presented to everyone, the sinister side of myself had taken hold. I'd become a master of deception, so quick with my lies I could barely believe who I had become. I fooled everyone into accepting that I was no longer obsessed with my body. They'd been tricked into thinking I'd come to terms with my weight and had control of my unhealthier impulses.

Pro-Ana had made things much easier for me. The various Pro-Ana sites gave me all the tips I needed to conceal my diet from everyone else. I had stocked up on packages of bagels and m.u.f.fins. They became my showpieces; I carried them around with me to put on the pretense I was actually eating them. Instead, I usually broke off pieces and shoved them into my pockets or purse. I had a close call one night when Angus attempted to rip through my purse to get to the goodies hidden inside.

At the dorm and at Cameron's apartment, I dirtied dishes and left them in the sink to leave the impression I'd finished a meal. When we ate dinner together, I'd take small bites and push around the rest of the food to make it look like I was eating a normal meal.

Discussing my diet or how much weight I wanted to lose was off-limits. If anyone brought up my weight loss, I shrugged it off and explained I wasn't actively dieting anymore.

My mother stood with her arms crossed in front of the stairs as we walked in. She gave Cameron a terse smile. "I'm sure we can take it from here, Cameron."

"Mom, he's staying for dinner," I said, wiping sweat from my brow. I was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a spring jacket. Layering was the key to hiding my body from others. I used the excuse of my shyness to keep Cameron from seeing me fully undressed.

Cameron wasn't dumb, though; as we made love in the dark, I could feel his fingers pause for a second too long over my ribcage, hesitating like he was questioning whether my body was the way it was supposed to be.

My mother didn't answer. Pursing her cherry-stained lips, she spun on her high heels and stalked into the kitchen. I gave Cameron an apologetic shrug.

"Don't worry about it. I'll carry these up and meet you in your room. Do you have any other stuff in my car?"

"I think a couple of bags. I'll be up in a few."

Minutes later, after I'd retrieved my belongings and started up the staircase to my room, voices carried to me from above. I crept silently up the stairs and listened to a whispered conversation between Lila and Cameron.

"Cam, she's not looking any better. If anything, she looks worse than when I saw her before my prom," Lila was saying.

"She's been seeing a counselor and she's been eating in front of me. I don't know ... maybe it's going to take a while for her to put any weight back on," he said softly. There was an edge to his voice and I imagined the stressed look on his face.

"Could she be puking up the food you see her eat?" Lila asked.

"I don't think so. I think she suspects I'm watching her. She doesn't go to the bathroom after she eats like she used to. Her counselor wants her to see someone while she's home. Maybe if she keeps talking to someone, she'll be able to get a handle on things and gain some weight." Cameron paused for a second and the tension in the air thickened. "I'm afraid of saying anything to her. If I push her too much, I have a feeling she's just going to freak out and run as far away from me as she can."

"We have to do something! She looks like if I blow too hard in her direction, she'll fall over." I stumbled on the step where I stood, alerting them to my presence. "Kayla?" Lila called out hesitantly.

I stifled my emotions and plastered a counterfeit smile on my face. I made my way up the stairs until I reached my room. Lila was sitting on the edge of my bed and Cameron stood beside her awkwardly, his hands shoved in the pockets of his khaki shorts.

I dumped the shopping bags I had in my hands in the center of the floor. "I think that's the last of everything," I said brightly. I could see them exchange an uncertain glance, questioning how much I may have overheard. I stood beside Cameron and leaned my head against his shoulder. "What's wrong? Did you change your mind about staying for dinner?"

I was in a make-believe world, pretending to be someone I wasn't. I was wounded; pieces of myself had broken off and vanished forever. But I would never let anyone know it. I refused to be Cameron and Lila's pet project-it wasn't their responsibility to make me whole again. If I had to, I would push them all away and live by my own rules.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

The walls are closing in on me here and I feel like I'm losing sight of my goals. I really need everyone's encouragement today!

I posted the Pro-Ana message and waited patiently for the supportive replies I would soon get. I was relying more and more on my virtual friends. Faceless girls were much easier to deal with than prying sisters and boyfriends.

I could no longer remember what I was trying to achieve. I understood I had aspirations when I started dieting, but it was fuzzy inside my muddled brain. I thought I'd be content when I was thin, but happiness was out of reach. Instead, I only craved invisibility. I avoided mirrors and hid under layers of clothes.

Did you make the Thinspiration book like I suggested?

Fifteen minutes later, the reply arrived from SkinnyGirl89. She was one of the regular visitors I'd come into contact with through the website. We had exchanged email addresses and cell phone numbers, too. There'd been some bonding once we found out we both lived in New Jersey, only about forty-five minutes away from each other. We vowed to be there for each other when we struggled to stick to our diet. Pro-Ana site visitors treated virtual oaths like blood bonds.

Reaching into the bottom drawer of my desk, I pulled out the sc.r.a.pbook I a.s.sembled the week before. It was a collection of magazine cutouts featuring thin models with perfect bodies. They wore skimpy clothing and bikinis, outfits I'd only wear if I lost enough weight. The idea behind making a book was to look at the pictures whenever doubts threatened to make me lose my focus.

Yes, I cut out some pics from a few fashion magazines. Should I add anything else? I sent my reply and cracked my knuckles as I waited to hear back from SkinnyGirl89.

I like to add quotes to the book, too, and put them around the pictures. Here are a few favorites: "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels," "The thinner is the winner," and "Your stomach isn't growling, it's applauding."

Being home for a month had given me too much downtime, and I retreated further into myself. I no longer had the distractions of school, my college friends, or Cameron. My best friend from high school, Tami, had tried to make plans since I'd gotten back home, but I'd blown her off. Running into someone I hadn't seen in a while was unbearable; I couldn't stand the pitiful expressions. My paranoia had convinced me that after one look at me, they'd be able to see how shattered I was on the inside.

I rarely ventured out, and despite my promises to see Cameron as often as possible, we'd only seen each other twice since I moved back. I could hear the worry in his voice when I canceled plans, but I was avoiding him since his conversation with Lila. I also dodged his questions about whether I had set up an appointment with a therapist in town. I lied and said the counselor Parker recommended had a waiting list and would not be able to see me until July, a month away.

I stopped typing out my reply to SkinnyGirl89 when I heard my cell phone ring. It was Cameron's third call of the day. I had ignored the first two, lacking the motivation to make excuses about why I couldn't see him later. I knew I was just avoiding the inevitable; I couldn't keep dodging him forever.

"Hi," I answered tonelessly.

"Hey, I've been trying to get you all day. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I'm bugging out about work. I'm trying to catch up today. I have three articles due by tonight that I've barely started."

Work was becoming my standard excuse. Since I wrote articles, I was able to fib about deadlines to avoid both Lila and Cameron. Lila was harder to evade, since we shared a wall, but I usually only ventured out of my room when she was at school. My avoidance of the two closest people to me stemmed from the idea they were exchanging notes on how I looked and how much I ate. I believed Lila kept a journal, recording each thing that pa.s.sed my lips, along with a log of when I used the bathroom. I was suspicious, imagining my sister making covert calls to relay this information to Cameron.