Seph

It's been three days since I got out of Kian's truck and walked away. He told me to go. He looked at me and said he wasn't good for me, so I left. But I've regretted it every second since.

  Kian was the only reason I was getting better.

  I felt like my life was already changing the moment I laid eyes on him at my party. When he lit my cigarette that I shouldn't have been smoking. When he took me away from that party and we drove around Malibu, even though we were strangers.  And when I woke up that morning - a few days ago - on the hard basement floor, even though it was something totally crazy, I felt normal. But then he took me home and somewhere along that drive, he decided he was done with me.

  I haven't texted him because I don't want him to know that I'm going crazy without him.  But I am. He was my anchor, my safe place. He said I could call him if I needed him, but I don't think he meant it. He was cutting me out of his life. Or forcing me to cut him out of mine.

  My mom, surprisingly, didn't ask a lot of questions when I got home that morning. She was glad I was safe and home, I could see it in her eyes.

  I have decided that I'm done binging and purging. It's been four days since I have thrown up, and while I'm not eating much, I'm eating. I feel stronger. My stomach doesn't hurt all the time. And I'm trying to be a better person. There's no point in feeling sorry for myself anymore.

  Life is shitty sometimes. Sometimes bad things happen, but we have to deal with them. That's what Kian told me.  Sometimes we meet people who teach us that lesson and kiss us like we're important to them, but then they leave.

  I've also realized that I'm very much addicted to smoking.

  When Ronnie arrives at the house on Tuesday morning, I pretty much corner her and ask for a cigarette.

    "You're disappointing me," she says, but then wraps her arms around me anyway.

    "I'm doing better," I say quickly. "Besides the smoking."

    "Well, we can't all be perfect," she smiles as she reaches back into her jacket pocket.

  She hands me an entire pack of cigarettes. "Don't make me regret this," she whispers seriously.

   "I won't. Thank you." I tuck it into my sweater pocket right away. "I'll be back down for breakfast soon."

   "You will?" she asks, genuinely surprised. She's used to me running off upstairs and hiding out in my bedroom, avoiding any mention of food.

  I nod and smile, and then turn and run up the stairs.

  I smoke on my balcony. After the first one, I shut my eyes and try to remember that first night I met Kian out here. I was a bit drunk and I know I was rude to him, but he didn't care. He asked me if I wanted to leave my own party, directly after meeting me. Something happened between us that night and changed us both. I know it.

  After my second cigarette, I head back downstairs.

  "You look good, Josephine," Ronalda tells me, as we start eating.

  "I feel good," I tell her, and move around the bacon on my plate.

  She made pancakes and bacon and I know my mom's still home, somewhere. It's early. Dad left for a the office an hour ago. He has been avoiding me, since the weekend. I'm okay with that. My parents aren't exactly confrontational and neither am I.

  "You have no idea how happy that makes me," Ronnie goes on, then stabs a piece of pancakes and bites it off her fork.

  Her dark hair is pulled back in a bun, like always. She has these dark eyes that always seem to be telling a story. Now, I can tell she's serious.

  "I had some sort of an epiphany this weekend?" I tell her, quite unsure what she'll think of that.

   "Epiphany, huh?" Her eyes on me but she is eating.

  I'm eating, too. The pancakes are good. Being able to eat and enjoy a meal feels good. It's crazy how fast this seems to have happened, though I'm fully aware of the fact that I'm not entirely out of the woods.

"Yeah."

 "This have to do with... your new friend?" She's not even talking quietly now, and my eyes go wide.

 "Shh," I tell her, but end up smiling. I don't know what's going to happen with Kian and I, but he's the reason I'm doing well. "Yes. Kian helped me."

   "A lot of people have been trying to help you... for a long time," Ronnie tells me, her eyes narrowed. "So why him?"

  I shrug and take another bite of my breakfast. After I sip my coffee and place the cup back onto the table, I answer. "Life's not perfect for anyone. He helped me realize mine's really not that bad."

  Ronalda smiles this big smile and goes back to eating. I want to talk about Kian some more. I want to talk to him. But he seems serious about staying away. I don't know what to do about that.

  I load the dishwasher when I'm finished eating and tell Ronnie I'll be back in a bit. As I'm heading upstairs to shower and change, my mom intercepts me in the front hallway.
   
   Her hand is on my arm, stopping me, before I can even move away. Her serious expression is nothing new, but she seems surprised now.

  "You seem... like you're doing well?" she asks, as if she's confused by this.

  We haven't exactly talked much since Saturday morning, when she saw me in Kian's truck. Before that, she told me I couldn't see Kian anymore. She told me he was in jail and that he's no good for me. But she doesn't know he's the one who made me realize things that have helped me over the last few days.

  "I am," I say plainly. "I am doing good."

  My mom nods, still looking unsure. "There's a party, tomorrow night. It's down the street at the Watson's."

  "On a Wednesday?" I ask, confused.

    "Yes. Their oldest son, Mack? He's back in Malibu for the summer and they are celebrating his college graduation."

  "Oh, cool." I don't know what else to say.

   "We'd like you to come with us, Jo. You're doing well, and you look good. Everyone would like to see you."

  She's forgetting that less than three weeks ago, "everyone" saw me at my birthday party. But no one really saw me, because I was hiding on the balcony and then driving around Malibu with a stranger.

  I'd rather eat dirt than go to a party with the neighbours, but I nod anyway. "Sure. Let me know what time."

  My mom's surprised again, or still, by my answer. "Oh, yes, I will."

  "Okay. I have to go shower-"

   "Of course."

  I turn around and she drops my arm. I'm half way upstairs before she talks again. "You're not still seeing that boy, are you?"

  There is is. Of course she wants to know if I'm still seeing Kian. It doesn't sound all that judgmental, but I can tell she needs to know.

  "I'm not," I say, but it feels awful.

  Because for now, it's the truth.

*

  I don't text Kian that day, even though I want to. I want to know what he's doing and if he's okay. More than anything, I feel like I'm grieving the friendship we had, or what we could have had.

  I wake up the following day and check my phone, hoping there's something from him. There's not. I don't like the way my heart sinks. It's been five days since I've seen him or heard from him. I can feel it in my gut that it means something. And it's not good

  "I hear you're going to a party tonight?" Ronnie asks me, when I finally make my way downstairs that morning, after a smoke and some wasted time on my phone.

  She looks thrilled now, happier than I've seen her in a long time.

  "I agreed to go, yes," I answer plainly, walking through the kitchen.

  "That's great news. You've really done a 360 since..." she lets her trail off. She knows the rest of that, but doesn't say it and I appreciate her for that.

  "Breakfast?" I ask instead.

  A huge smile returns to her face. "I made waffles."

  "You're really trying to fatten me up, aren't you Ronnie?" I laugh.

   "I'm just happy to cook for you again, Josephine." She smiles.

  I'm out in the back yard with my legs in the pool later that afternoon, when I hear the back door open and close again. Footsteps approach me and when I turn to look, it's my dad.  He's wearing his suit that he wears to the office and a bow tie. His dark hair is short and styled. He looks his age but he takes good care of himself.

  He's not smiling now, but he rarely smiles at me these days.

 "Why aren't you getting ready?" he asks calmly, looking down at me.

  I glance at my wrist, even though I don't have a watch. It can't be later than 3pm.

  "I thought the party was... later. "

   "It's a dinner party."

  "Okay. Sorry. I don't need long to get ready."

  I drag my legs out of the pool and stand while he watches me. I'm wearing shorts and a tank top and even though it's only been a few days, I'm not ashamed of my body today. I do notice the way he looks at me, though.

  "Your mother left a dress in your room," he says, now looking back at the house. "We will leave at 5P.M."

   "Got it," I answer and then reach for the towel that's on the chair nearby.

  My dad turns to leave but suddenly turns back to me. "Thank you for this. Your mother is really happy."

  I give him a quick nod and turn away, unsure about how I feel about all of this. I haven't done anything to make my mom happy or proud in years. It's been so long since she's looked at me And really saw me, not her sick daughter. It feels good and strange and weird and wrong all at once.

  I'm ready an hour later. I straightened my hair and put on the blue dress and some make up. I don't look like myself when I look in the mirror. After digging out my black ballet flats from my closet, I slip them on and go downstairs.

  Ronnie is just at the door, getting ready to leave for the day. I watch as she slips on her coat and when she turns back, hearing me on the stairs, her face lights up. She's probably giving me a better reaction than my own mother will, so I cherish it for a moment.

    "You look beautiful, Josephine," she gushes. "It's so wonderful to see you like this."

   "You don't like me in my comfy clothes I wear all day?" I ask, teasing her.

    "I do, of course. But this is... just wonderful," she repeats. "You have a great night, okay?"

  I give her a quick hug and watch her leave the house, just as my mother appears from the other room. She stops in her tracks and looks me up and down. She's dressed in a dark red, long dress and her hair is down and straightened, as well. I never feel as pretty as she is. I never feel like I'm even meant to go places with her. When she smiles, I relax, only slightly.

   "I'm glad you're ready." Her words are not even close to a compliment. "I'm just glad you didn't change your mind, to be honest."

  Now I wish I had.

  "Well, you wanted me to go, so..." I say, and then just leave it at that.

   "Oh, since when do you do things that I ask you to do?" She adds a laugh but I know she's far from joking.

  I sit in the front room and wait for my dad to come and retrieve us, and then we all go out and get into the Porshe, even though we're just driving down the street. Of course my dad would have to drive his Porshe.

  I have no idea what I'm walking into as the door to the mansion opens and we are greeted by Michelle Watson, a good friend of my mom's. It's been awhile since I've arrived to a dinner party with my parents and it feels all kinds of weird, but I force a smile and step inside.