Marianne Elizabeth Hammer (top young adult novels TXT) 📖

biology to go to hell again and smiled at him. “I’m going to miss you.”

Patrick slouched down further on the bed and reached up to fiddle with Marianne’s hair while he focused on the TV again. She wanted to feel as cozy as Patrick looked. The gentle choking kind of ruined it for her, though. Marianne watched Patrick’s face.

She felt like she had to do something; she just didn’t know what. She didn’t have to puke. Puking held no power over her. But she had to do something. She couldn’t just stay here and do nothing. It was like there were too many people in the room. There was Marianne. And Patrick. And the other Marianne. That was it. That was the demonic presence in the room. She felt like her true self for the first time in weeks. She’d felt it at moments, but nothing like how it was now. She had almost forgotten what it was like to know who she really was. Weak. Broken. Flawed. She had vowed never to lose control with food again. Marianne had broken faith with herself.

She felt like crap. She was crap, and she would continue to be that. For days and years, she would feel like this. Humans had to deal with food every day. Every day of her life would be a battle not to spit on her vow. Like a housewife who one day bends down to start the dishwasher and realizes that the job isn’t done. It’s done for today. But she’ll have to do it again tomorrow. And the next day. Almost every single day that she’s alive would include doing dishes.

The battle not to eat till she was full would be there every day. She wasn’t strong enough to kill the desire with any permanence. What if one day... she gave up? Decided that it was too hard? She’d get fat. But, really, she didn’t care too much about that. Okay, of course she cared. More than that, though, was the idea of the defeat that was coming. She didn’t want to experience that day. Who would she be if she gave up? She would be everything else that she already was, but with no victory in her life at all. Marianne was sure, more sure than ever, that she didn’t have an eating disorder. She had a self-disorder.

She looked up at Patrick and wondered why he hadn’t said it today. He could just look over right now and tell her that he loved her. Please. She watched him play with her hair and chew on his pretty bottom lip. Please. But he wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by saying it again and again. She never said it back, after all.

She never said it back, and that was just another thing that made her a selfish, cowardly wretch. She laid her head back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. I love you, Patrick. They were just words. Truthful, beautiful words. Yesterday, she’d been frustrated with herself for not being able to say them. But would it really make any difference? She fought against herself all the time—all the time—and got nowhere. She never changed. This binge just proved it. She was so done with hoping and being disappointed.

What was she fighting for, anyway? She wanted to be special. To be great. The best she could imagine for herself would be okay. Why the hell would anyone fight for that? Marianne opened her eyes as wide as they could go and focused on the TV while her tears evaporated. If she wiped them away, Patrick would see. “Um...” whispered Marianne. “Are you tired? Maybe I should go home and let you rest for tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait to get away from me, huh?”

Marianne sat up. “No.”

He smiled at her. “I was just kidding.” Patrick tugged her hair. “But I’m fine to watch the baby if you need to go.”

“Yeah, I probably should. My parents...” Marianne had to trail off into silence because she couldn’t think of a reason her parents might need her.

“Okay.” Patrick sat up and took her hand again and pulled her down to sit on the edge of the bed. “Thanks for taking care of me, today.”

“Of course.”

He looked at her and frowned. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Marianne nodded and tried to swallow through the lump of food in her throat.

Patrick kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “I love you.”

Marianne put her hands behind his neck so he couldn’t pull away and see her face. “Why?” she said. Wow, that came out of nowhere.

“Why?” Patrick ran his hand through her hair. He took a few moments before he answered. “Because I want to.”

He didn’t get it. “No,” she said. Marianne put her forehead on his cheek. “I mean, why do you love me?” Please make it good.

“I told you,” he said gently. “Because I want to.”

There was no way that he misunderstood her the second time. That was really his answer. Marianne opened her eyes and stared down at his t-shirt. “I don’t... know what you mean by that.”

He sighed. “I mean that I decided to love you. And so I do.”

Marianne slowly lifted her head to look at him. Nothing as awful as that had ever crossed the lips of any human being before. Patrick couldn’t have meant what he just said. “That...” Marianne swallowed. “Is a horrible answer.”

“It’s the best answer I can give you.”

His best answer was rotten and just plain rude. It was unnatural. False. He loved her because he’d decided to? Gee, thanks a lot. “Okay.” Marianne pulled away from him and started to get off the bed. She had to get away now. She had to think.

Patrick pulled her down by the back of her sweater. She sat down facing him, but he didn’t look at her or speak. He was just staring pensively down at his knees.

Why had she done this? Why had she forced him into this?