Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 76696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I stifled a laugh. Fuck, that girl was worming its way into my heart and I didn’t have the first clue how to stop her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Amber
Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Why did I have to mention the support group? Now I had to go or Brian would worry. Would I have to talk about what had happened? I wanted to forget, not drag everything back to the surface. But Dad and Brian set their hopes in the group. I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. I would do this for them.
Brian was already waiting in the living room when I entered. I gave him a smile that probably looked very forced but it was the best I could do. He held the door open for me and I walked past him into the hallway, careful to keep my distance. Straightening my back and sucking in a deep breath, I walked into the elevator. Brian joined me after a moment, cautious and worried. He kept as much space between us as possible and pressed the button. The elevator began moving and the awkward silence between us was threatening to suffocate me. I wanted my relationship with Brian to return to normal, to how it had been before the day that had ruined everything. But how could it ever get normal if I couldn't even hug him or take his hand? The elevator stopped and we strode toward Brian's car. I buckled myself up. Brian kept his gaze fixed on the windshield and held himself rigid as we drove off.
“The support group will help you,” he said into the silence.
I decided to play along. “I'm sure it will.” I tightened the hold on my purse to hide the trembling of my hands.
***
We parked in front of the part of the Massachusetts General hospital where the support group meeting was held. “Do you want me to bring you to the door?” Brian asked as I unbuckled.
“No.” I wasn’t a toddler. I needed to do this on my own, even if I felt safer with someone I knew.
Brian’s hand on the seat buckle froze. “Are you sure?” Upon seeing my expression, he nodded. “Okay. I can wait until the meeting is over if you want.”
I raised my head to look at him. “No, Brian, it's alright. I don’t know how long it’s going to take and I’m sure you have better things to do than sit in the car. I’ll call you once I’m done.”
He looked hesitant but after a moment he said, “Okay, but wait inside for me. I’ll call you when I pull up.”
I got out of the car and threw the door shut. With a last worried glance, Brian drove off. I drew in a shaky breath as I headed toward the glass entrance and stepped into the brightly lit lobby. This outpatient center was part of the psychiatric department of the MGH, but my worry that everyone would look at me like I was weird was completely unfounded. Except for an elderly woman behind the welcome desk, there was only a tall girl with dark brown hair in the lobby. I was supposed to register but the thought of sitting down in circle with people who’d gone through the same thing as I had suddenly seemed impossible. The mere idea made my stomach coil. Calm down.
The tall girl was looking at a notice board on the wall. I walked toward her slowly, not yet ready to register with the receptionist, and the girl turned to me when I stopped beside her. She was older than I’d first thought, maybe twenty, but she was so skinny that she’d looked younger from afar.
A smile broke out on her thin face and she stepped aside, so I could look at the notice board as well. “Hi, I'm Olivia,” she said. She didn’t try to shake my hand or to make any attempt at physical contact and I liked her for it.
“I'm Amber,” I told her.
“Are you here for the eating disorder support group?” she asked, her expression hopeful.
I hesitated. I knew that I had neglected my body over the last three years and hadn't been in the sun for the same amount of time but did I look like I was trying to starve myself? From afar Olivia hadn't looked that thin but now that I was next to her, I saw that she was wearing a thick winter coat to hide her body. Her skinny hands peeked out from it, like the hands of a skeleton, fingers like spindly twigs. Her cheekbones were protruding and I could see her blue veins through the skin at her throat and hands. The shadows under her eyes were even worse than mine.
“Actually, I'm here for...” I hesitated, not able to voice it. I pointed my index finger at the name of the group.
Olivia's eyes followed my finger and they widened slightly. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh,” she mumbled. “I hoped you were in my support group. You seem nice and I really don't want to go and...I should probably stop rambling.” She let out an embarrassed laugh.
I gave her a smile. “I don't really want to go to this group either but...” I trailed off. A thought popped into my head and though I knew it wasn’t fair toward Brian or Dad, I couldn't shake it off. “Why don't we just sit somewhere and talk, only the two of us?”
“That sounds perfect. Our own personal support group,” she whispered. “I’d really like that. There's a park around the corner, but it’ll be getting dark soon.”
The woman behind the desk was watching us. She probably wondered why we hadn’t checked in yet. “Is there a coffee shop close by?”
“Yes, a Starbucks is a five minute walk away. I can lead the way.”
We walked in silence and finally settled in two seats in a corner of the shop. It was the most private spot we could find. I kept glancing at the other customers, worried someone would approach us. So far I’d managed not to bump into anyone. The number of people around us was more than I was used to, but I tried to ignore my anxiety. I’d ordered a Pumpkin Latte but Olivia only wanted a peppermint tea. “So who made you go to the support group?” I asked.