Girls Only! (23 page)

“Hey! You’re early,” Jenna said, spying her in the doorway. “Come in and relax.”

Heather inched into the room, going to the corner near the window. “It’s nice and quiet up here.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Jenna tickled her cat’s nose.

Heather was silent, staring down at the rooftops of the other houses.

“Something on your mind?” asked Jenna.

“Oh, I don’t know.”

Jenna chuckled. “Well, if you don’t . . . I sure don’t.”

Heather thought about that. Should she tell her friend about her nagging desire to be skin and bones? What would Jenna think?

“C’mon, Heather, talk to me.” Jenna came over and sat on the floor across from her.

“You won’t laugh?”

“Never.”

She’d have to test the waters first. See if Jenna was the kind of friend she thought she was. “Bet you’ve never wanted to starve yourself skinny . . . have you?”

Jenna frowned, pulling on one side of her short hair. “Hey, I’ve heard all about eating disorders, if that’s what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t say anything about disorders.” Now she was stalled. Maybe talking to Jen wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

“So what are you saying?” Jenna twisted first one side of her dark hair, then the other. Her deep brown eyes were very serious, like she was struggling to understand.

Heather pushed ahead, unsure of herself. “My brother thinks I’m fat.”

Jenna laughed softly. “I doubt that.”

“No, I’m serious. Kevin said I was too heavy one day during our practice.”

Jenna sat with her knees under her chin. “Surely he was joking.”

“I don’t think so.” She sighed. This was harder than she thought. “I want to be thin, Jen. Thinner than you are . . . thinner than I am now.”

Frowning, Jenna looked at her. Really looked. “Hey, girl, you’re starting to scare me. Am I hearing you right?”

Heather nodded. “I’ve never been more serious.”

“So . . . what’s it you’re doing? Cutting out eating, is that it?”

“And I’m working out a lot.”

“Working out? Like how much?” Jenna’s eyes glistened.

“Several extra hours a day.”

Jenna scrunched up her mouth. “Does your coach know?”

“Nobody knows but you.” At last, she’d told someone. What would Jenna’s reaction be?

“Wanna know what I think?” Jenna said softly, reaching out her hand.

“Sure.”

“From everything I’ve heard and read—and, believe me, stuff like this gets around—you do
not
want to get caught up in the anorexic thing. I’ve seen girls my age get so high from the endorphins released during the starvation process, they actually get hooked on them. It’s addictive.” She scooted over next to Heather. “Please, don’t even think of losing weight that way. It’s dangerous.”

She was frustrated at Jenna’s reaction. “I don’t get it. You think it’s wrong not to eat?”

“Wrong and stupid, you pick. I’ve heard of some girls who’d rather cut off their arm than eat. They get sucked into the craving for the starvation high. Ten percent of them end up dead.”

“Really? Dead?”

“Hey, if you don’t eat, you die. Simple as that.”

Heather hadn’t thought of it quite that way. “You’re sure about this?”

“My gymnastic coach could tell you a thing or two. That is, if you don’t believe me.”

She didn’t know what to think. Jenna seemed so convincing. Sure of herself. And Jen ought to know this stuff, coming from the athletic world she, too, lived and breathed daily.

“Don’t say anything to Livvy and Manda, okay?” she said, beginning to tremble.

“Well, I won’t promise forever. I’m a better friend than that. If you need to control something in a major way, I would never suggest the food-less route.”

They were silent for a moment. Then Heather whispered, “I’m sorry, Jen. I want to be skinny. I really do.”

“And right now you’re shaking. So how’s that going to help you enjoy the club meeting in a few minutes?” Jenna’s face was solemn. “When’s the last time you ate?”

She wouldn’t tell. That was her business. Her secret. Getting up, she went to the barre. “Sorry, Jen. Guess I made a mistake.”

Jenna followed her over, staring at her in the mirror. “You’re wrong about that. You did the right thing telling me. Because I refuse to let you get sucked into this dead end you’re headed for.”

Heather was nearly too weak to protest. But her silence was her best defense. So she said no more.

Photo Perfect

Chapter Thirteen

Both Livvy and Manda arrived late to Girls Only. Heather really wished they’d shown up on time. Maybe then she wouldn’t have blabbed her soul to Jenna. Now, someone else in the world knew what was going on in her head. And she wasn’t so sure her gymnast friend would keep quiet about it.

“What recipes did you bring?” Livvy asked as the meeting had come to order.

Heather had carefully printed out the recipes she thought fit best under the High-Energy Snacks heading. She showed the Bars of Iron recipe first.

“Read off some of the ingredients,” Jenna said.

She wasn’t so sure she wanted to think about food, let alone read about it. But she did, for the sake of the club. “There are raisins and molasses in it.”

Manda wrinkled up her nose at the molasses.

“Oats and ginger, too,” Heather said. Just the sound of the word
raisins
made her mouth water. She was so hungry.

But no, she wouldn’t think about it. Not now. Not with Jenna, Livvy, and Manda sitting here, staring at her with bright eyes and full stomaches. Nope, she’d stick it out as long as possible. At least until the modeling agency came to their little town.

They were in the middle of voting on a title for their cookbook when Jenna’s mother knocked on the door. “Jenna, dear, can you watch your baby brother for me?”

Jenna glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the girls. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked the rest of the club members.

“No problem,” Manda spoke up.

“We’ll help you entertain him,” Heather offered.

Livvy nodded her head, agreeing that they’d all pitch in and baby-sit. “It’ll be fun.”

Jenna left the room and returned with little Jonathan in her arms. The baby’s olive skin tone matched Jenna’s, and his eyes widened as he looked around at all of them. Then his face lit up with a big smile when he spotted Heather. “Aw, he’s adorable,” she said, getting up and going over to Jenna. “May I hold him?”

Jenna gave her the strangest look. “Are you strong enough?” Jen whispered.

She knew what Jen was getting at. “Well, maybe I . . .”

Jenna moved past her and went to sit on the floor with her baby brother. “He’s crawling everywhere now,” she said, setting him down in the middle of the floor.

Just then, the cat jumped down off the bed, and tiny Jonathan pointed at Sasha. “Oh,” he said, crawling toward the furry creature.

“Watch this,” Jenna said.

The girls were spellbound, watching Jonathan’s every move. His cute little hands sprang out, and he began crawling toward the golden-haired cat. But Sasha only allowed the baby to get within inches of her. Then she skittered under the bed skirt to a safe hiding place.

Baby Jonathan just blinked his dark eyes, making sweet, high-pitched sounds.

“Does he talk?” Manda asked.

Jenna nodded. “He says ‘Mama,’ ‘bye-bye,’ ‘hi,’ and ‘Da-da.’ ”

“What’s he call you?” asked Livvy.

Jenna smiled. “My brother only points at me and grunts.”

“That’s interesting,” Heather said, observing the small child. She wondered what would happen if a baby didn’t eat. How long before he or she would starve? Like the children on TV, in Third-World countries where every day babies die by the thousands.

Jenna’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “Let’s do our best to compile the recipes today. Then when we’re ready, I’ll make the cover. Unless someone else wants to.”

“Go for it,” Manda said.

“Yeah, you’ll come up with a nice design,” Livvy said.

“Use your computer program, maybe,” suggested Heather. But her thoughts were on getting home, lying down. She felt so terribly weak.

Heather was glad Mom was out doing some shopping when she arrived home. Quickly, she slipped off to her bedroom, eager for a nap. But her rest was short-lived. Joanne knocked on her bedroom door, waking Heather.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Joanne poked her head inside. “Are you awake?”

“Not really.”

“Kevin said to tell you that someone left a phone message for you, he thinks.” Joanne’s lips curled into a smile.

“What do you mean, ‘he thinks’?”

Joanne stared back at her. “Just what I said.”

She sat up in bed, groaning. “Will you just please tell me what you mean?”

“It’s hard to hear who’s on the voice mail,” came the reply.

“So . . . it’s still not fixed?”

“Better go listen,” Joanne said. “Maybe you’ll recognize the voice.”

Why should I care?

Joanne stood there, like she was waiting for Heather to get up and go to the phone. “Well, are you going?”

“Not now . . . I’m tired.”

“And crabby,” Joanne whispered.

But Heather had heard her sister. “Please close the door.”

“You want me to leave?”

“Please.”
The sooner the better
, she thought.

Taking her time, Joanne shut the door behind her. And Heather leaned back on her bed, closing her eyes. But now it was impossible to fall asleep again. She was too curious. Who had left the message? One of her friends from church, probably. Or maybe one of her Girls Only friends.

But she’d just been with Jenna, Livvy, and Manda. So . . . what would
they
want? The more she thought about it, the more she wondered, secretly, if Micky Waller had called.

“Micky wants to talk to you
,” Livvy had said on the phone the other day.

That got her up. She slipped down the hall to her parents’ room and checked the voice mail. Joanne was right. It was almost impossible to hear who was talking. Almost.

Thank goodness she’d checked before Dad and Mom did. Yes, she was fairly sure it was Micky. But the number he’d left where he could be reached wasn’t clear. At least he’d called. That was enough.

Feeling better just thinking about a boy calling her, she hurried downstairs. She opened the refrigerator and found a jar of peanut butter. She spread a small amount on two long stalks of celery and ate them both. She’d broken her fast, but the snack might curb her appetite for supper.

She headed downstairs to the family room, only to discover Kevin lifting weights in the corner of the room. “I’m next,” she told him.

Kevin spouted back. “Since when do you just waltz in here and demand to be next?”

“Since right now.”

He was silent. She’d made him angry. Not a good thing for either their working relationship or their brother-sister rapport. Neither one.

She waited her turn, wishing somehow they could clear the air between them. She wanted to improve their skating relationship especially. Fact was, she’d never forgiven him for dropping her.

“Did you get your phone message?” he asked when he was finally finished. On his way past her.

“Maybe.”

He shook his head and left the room.

Eyeing the exercise equipment, she set the timer for one hour. Instead of doing homework, she was going to lift arm and leg weights for a solid sixty minutes. Since Mom was probably at the grocery store, she figured she would be fine with this. Nobody had to know.

She turned on the contemporary Christian station—one in Colorado Springs—that made its way to Alpine Lake. She was glad they got the station, because the town was too small to support its own major stations.

So she worked out, hard as she could, the upbeat music and her own thoughts filling her mind.

Photo Perfect

Chapter Fourteen

On Monday, two days before the modeling agency came to town, Heather asked her mother if she could go and “try out.”

“How are you going to fit everything into your life?” Mom asked.

She was ready for that question. “I can do it,” she said. “I’ll work even harder if I have to.”

“Well, how do we know these folks are legitimate?”

“Call Natalie Johnston. Do you think Natalie would advertise something that wasn’t on the level?”

Mom glanced toward the ceiling. “Seems to me, your father and I will have to check things out.
If
you go at all.”

“Oh please, Mom, won’t you come with me? Ask whatever questions you want to, just let me interview.” She was starting to feel desperate.

Mom sat her down in the living room. “Honey . . . can you tell me, is this the reason you’ve quit eating?”

She looked away. “I haven’t quit, not completely,” she said softly.

“Do you want to be a model more than anything else?” asked Mom.

“Not more than skating, but I
do
want to see if I have a chance.”

Mom touched her hand. “You haven’t been yourself for over a week, Heather. I want to help you.”

She remembered hearing her mother’s prayer last week—the night she’d crept to the kitchen for some crackers and milk. She knew her mother was concerned, but there was no need. “I don’t need help, Mom.”

“I think you do. And I’ve made an appointment with the doctor.” The corners of Mom’s eyes were glistening. “Tomorrow, after lunch, we’ll go together.”

She knew there was no talking Mom out of this. She was determined; motivated by what, Heather didn’t know.

“I’m not sick,” she said, making an effort. “I don’t need a doctor.”

“Well, he can check on your knee, at least.” Mom got up and reached for Heather. “I love you, kiddo. You’re going to be just fine.”

Just fine . . .

How did her mother know? Did she have any idea what was going on? Did she?

Before supper, the phone rang. Fortunately, Heather answered on the second ring. “Bock residence.”

“Heather . . . is that you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, and who’s this?”

“It’s Micky Waller. Remember, we talked at the mall rink last week?”

Sure, she remembered. How could she forget? “Hi, Micky. How’s it going?”