༺ FORTY - TWO ༻

"So you were just messing with my sister at that sleepover?"

"Yes."
"No."

I groan at Thomas. Bury my head in my hands. "We weren't messing."

"Not that day, at least."

"Thomas." I elbow him in the side.

"What? He asked and I answered!"

Newt puts the tip of finger on the table and stares, only at Thomas because he hasn't looked at me for a second. "Why the actual shit didn't you tell me? Six months?"

"We were afraid you'd get angry," I say, looking down.

"Well, I am now I find out you've been hiding this from me for six months." He pulls a face, probably in disgust. "I could've known, though."

"But you're not angry about the actual thing? You're okay with us?" I straighten my back. A frown of concern is on my face. "I hope, at least."

"You remember our conversation and know I don't really mind as long as you don't get clingy around me, because I still don't want to imagine anything. I never want to see y'all kiss again, I know that. And especially not like three minutes ago!"

I exhale. "Alright. We'll try to do that. Right, Thomas?"

"Right," he says, but it's not convincing at all.

"Okay." Newt rubs his eyelids. "I'm gonna bleach those tonight. And try not to imagine all the things you guys have been doing. Although first, I'd like to have a word with Tommy."

Is that an oh? Or an... OH?!

I'm not sure, but I don't have much time to think about it because three seconds later, they've disappeared in the hallway.

✵

Ha, now Newt knows, Thomas and I are basically free to spend the night wherever we want, and it was quite funny watching Newt's face when I mentioned Thomas was staying with me for the night.

"What'd he tell you?" I whisper once we're settled in bed, in the dark.

"Eh. That if I dare to hurt you or ever make you cry in a bad way, he'd kill me...?"

I scoff. "Newt won't kill anyone, trust me."

"No? 'Cause he seemed pretty serious about it."

"Well, alright. He'd likely throw a few punches." I pause. Frown. "You and Minho can't go through one day without telling me 'Newt is going to kill me', man. I can't even take it seriously at this point."

"He meant it," Thomas says again. "So I guess I'll never hurt you then, huh? Or make you cry."

I raise an eyebrow. "Were you planning on doing that before?"

"No, of course not." He laughs. "I'd never hurt you, Blondie. Physically or mentally doesn't matter. I won't."

I move closer to his side. "Good. I'd hope that. And I won't hurt you, either."

"Mhm."

Just that sounded so good that my stomach twists with butterflies. "Wait." Not sure how ridiculous this is, but I roll over, on top of him, and sit up.

"What're you doing?" He murmurs, clearly taken aback, yet he holds my waist to keep me steady.

"What do you think?" I brush my lips over his, then kiss his jawline. After basically everything he has done for me, can't I do something in return?

"If Newt hears, I'm dead," he whispers.

"Well, be quiet then."

It's not hard to trail my lips over his jawline, since it's sharp enough to feel, even in the dark. I move his head to the side, reaching his neck, and place my lips on his skin again. All it takes is something kissing and moving around, and he's already panting.

"Rose—" it comes out as a hiss and whimper at once. I stop, look at him (our eyes are used to the dark by now), and raise my eyebrows.

"What? Do I need to stop or are you just that afraid of a harmless fly like Newt?"

"Oh, god no. Don't stop," he replies, whisper a bit hoarse.

Satisfied, I continue. Take his shirt off, explore the warmth of his body with my fingers, and then replace those with my lips. Kiss, make unnecessary movements, run my fingers through his hair, and realize it's quite enjoyable to see him in this state, with heavy breaths and no strength at all.

Thomas's hands grip harder around my waist by the second, and he throws his head back, groaning. "Sit— shit —still."

"I don't think I can reach you well when I do that." I give him a triumphant smile, then continue, my fingers slipping under his waistband.

He attempts to cup my face, but I turn away. "Rose, please. I can't let you—"

"Just close your eyes and bloody relax for once."

✵

It's a few days after Newt found out about Thomas and I. Things have been going fine. Ballet, work, pretending that I keep the food in... I feel more in control, but also not. Because now that my whole family knows I have problems with eating, I feel watched.

But at ballet, everything has been fine. Aris doesn't say anything about the 'she has an eating disorder too'. No one's saying things about my body either. I like it.

"I think..." Mom starts at lunch. It's a Saturday. Everyone is home, except for Sonya. She's staying over at Brenda's house. "I changed my mind," she then says. "I do want to weigh you again, Rose. Because there hasn't been a single change in these weeks and I'm worried."

I try not to panic. "Alright."

Need water in my system. Perhaps some heavy objects in my pockets. The benefit is that I always drink a lot of water before meals, so I'm not hungry while I stare at the food, and I've already eaten half of my sandwich.

"Take your sweater off, love. I'd prefer to know the exact weight," Mom says kindly.

"Rather not," is all I say.

Exhaling, she nods and lets me stand on the scale. I close my eyes. I don't want to look. Because even though this is just the water my stomach is holding, the illusion I've gained weight gives me shivers. Tightens my chest.

"A hundred pounds," she sighs. "Forty-six kilograms."

I almost let out a breath in relief. The water and food gave enough coverage.

"That's not healthy for your age and length, love. You're like five feet nine."

I wish I wasn't. Imagine how much the number would lower if I was a few inches shorter... I swallow. "I know. I'm working on it."

"Ten more kilograms and you'll be about the normal weight. You can do it." Her arms wrap around me. I feel her warm body press against mine, which is and will always be cold, even under all the hoodies. "I'm so proud of you already."

I nod.

Mom kisses my forehead. "Come on. Let's finish lunch."

"Yes," I agree. Mom leaves before me, and then I finally manage to get ahold of the sink, my breaths staggering. I shake the black dots that have been there for a while away, the dizziness increasing as I do so.

Just one more day. One. Then I'll quit.