Sweet Fall
There is too much fat, Lexington. You are right. You have done well thus far, but you can do so much better. You know you can. You have lost some weight, granted, but let us keep striving for more. Let us keep striving for perfection.
Reaching to grip the edge of the sink, I almost felt entranced by the voice, but as I pictured the task ahead of me, the weeks I would have to cut out food in secret, take on more exercise than I already was, Austin’s face flitted into my mind… and suddenly, the voice’s persuasive words were silenced.
As I glanced up at the mirror, at the girl with the painted face, the girl wearing a mask. I pushed hard to purge myself of my doubts as I recited, You are beautiful, Lexi. You are perfect just the way you are.
I repeated Dr. Lund’s mantra over and over until a pit formed in my stomach. I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to be stronger for Austin. But the mantra wasn’t working, and all I could think of was my back and how many ribs I could count.
I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. It was unrelenting as it whirled around my mind.
Warring with my best intentions, I finally ripped up my dress and began the counting of my ribs on my back as though it was rote.
One, two three, four, five, six, seven… seven, seven, seven…
Seven. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. I should be able to count ten. There should be ten ribs, clearly defined and free of fat, that I could count.
What if things progressed with Austin? I wanted to be comfortable with him… with myself. I wanted to be worthy of him. I could only do that if I was thinner. I needed to be thinner. It was the only way I could ever be content with myself. It was the only way I could ever make love.
Lexington, give yourself to me. I will get you to your goal. Austin will love you when we have succeeded. Be awed by you. Do what you must and make sure no one suspects a thing. Secrecy is key. Dr. Lund will not be able to force you onto the scale as the pounds fall from your flesh. You are not his property to order about, nor his puppet to control. You belong to me and that is always the way it will be. Dr. Lund is an obstacle. He is a barrier to perfection…
As I stared at the painted girl in the mirror, tears filled my eyes at the truth of the eyesore before me.
I wasn’t worthy. I was severely lacking. There was no beauty queen staring back, no redeeming features on her plain and chubby face. Just too much fat engulfing her features and ugliness, ugliness there for everyone to see.
Resolved, I made my decision. I would do as the voice commanded, shed a few more pounds. With a few more pounds gone, I would stop. It wouldn’t go too far. No one would suspect a thing. It would be easy.
I couldn’t see another way.
It would be easy to stop…Easy to stop…
Once I am thinner.
Chapter Sixteen
Lexi
“What do you mean you can’t fly?” Shelly Blair shrieked at me, and I heard Lyle whistle low from beside me.
“I’ve just got back from my physiotherapist and he insisted I cannot fly in the stunts, but I can still dance. My back can’t be touched due to a strained muscle. The landings of the stunts will be too much. But I can dance solo at the front of the squad.”
My lies tasted of vinegar as they poured easily out of my mouth, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilt.
Well done, Lexington. Do not let them touch your back. And never feel bad about lying. It is what you must do. You know this. What is one small lie on the road to perfection?
Straightening my back, I refocused on Shelly and said, “I’m sorry, Shelly, but that’s the way it is. There’s no other option.”
Shelly snarled, her perfectly rouged lip curling in annoyance. “Perfect! The SEC Championship is around the corner, then the National Championship, and my best flyer is down. This year is going to absolute shit!”
With that, Shelly stormed off to consult Tanya, the vice-captain, leaving me standing awkwardly in her wake.
“Lexi babe, you’re hurt? Why didn’t you say something to me?” Lyle said with a pout as he put his hand on my arm.
Shrugging, I stepped back out of his hold and folded my arms across my chest. “My back has been hurting for a while and, well, I got it checked and I have to take it easy for the rest of the season. But I can still be with the squad, just nothing too strenuous.”
Lyle pouted dramatically. “But you’re my flyer. I don’t want nobody else. It’s been you and me all season.” Making a circle with his index finger and thumb, he linked them through mine. “You’re my cheer-lobster.”
Guilt curdled in my stomach and, faking an endearing smile, I took hold of Lyle’s hand with my free hand and squeezed. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”