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I laugh. “We could play a game or watch a movie.”
“What game did you have in mind?”
“Um. I don’t know.” I shrug. “Truth or dare?” I suggest, as it’s the only thing that pops into my mind. He raises an eyebrow at me. “A movie?”
“A movie.” He laughs.
We settle in as the bus starts back up. I let him pick the movie, not really caring what we watch. It is just nice not to be alone with Sue for once. He picked some comedy, and we sat side by side in front of the TV. I sit with my legs curled up under me, and he sits with his legs stretched out on the ottoman I have in front of the couch.
We are about halfway through the movie when Sue gets up from the table.
“I’m going to take a nap.” She says. “Abbey, you remember the rules. I’ll leave the bathroom key with the driver.” She announces, walking up towards the driver. She hands him the key as he drives and then she heads back towards the bunks.
“Bathroom key?” Wes asks when she is gone.
“Yeah.” I pull my knees to my chest. I hadn’t really thought that part through when I invited him on my bus. “One of the rules is, I have to ask to use the bathroom.”
“How old are you?” He says, studying me.
“23.” I reply softly. “Have you not done your research on me?”
“I mean, I know some things. Hard not to know some things.” He shrugs. “But no, I didn’t go digging up stuff. Why, did you investigate me?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Little Detective Dark.” He smirks. “So, why the lock on the bathroom door?”
“I…” I don’t know if I should tell him. I didn’t want him to think I am crazy.
“I signed the damn NDA.”
“I know.” I say and pause as his big, caramel eyes meet mine. He really feels trustworthy. I feel like I could tell him anything. Those eyes. They make me want to spill all my secrets. “I have an eating disorder.”
“So, there is some truth in that rumor.” He murmurs.
“Yeah.” I look away and bite my lip to keep from crying. It sucked that my eating disorder was a rumor. That it’s talked about in the media, by the fans, by the public.
“So.” He says. “If we were to make popcorn for this movie, you just wouldn’t eat any?”
“Probably not, no. Or maybe I would, but I would want to throw it up after.”
“Explains why you are so skinny.”
“I’ve been skinner. I got down to 85 pounds.”
“And now?”
“Last I checked, I was almost 110.”
“That’s great!” He says with a big, ear-to-ear grin.
“They have been forcing me to eat. Sue has all these rules.” I shrug. I’ve never told anyone about the arrangement. It feels weird to say it out loud to someone. I’m embarrassed that I got myself in this situation. For the first time, I almost regret it all.
“You look good.” He says. “Healthy.”
“They want me to get up to 120.” I say softly, avoiding eye contact, fearing his brown eyes will look at me like I’m as pathetic as I feel.
We sit in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know what else to say. Do I tell him about all the rules? About how I can get my freedom back if I stay at 120 pounds for three months? Would it make me seem more pathetic? Would he realize what a mess I really am and regret being friends with me?
