I wandered out to the kitchen, fully intent on binging. "I just want to eat something," i muttered to myself. I crossed the carpeting of the living room and stepped onto the white linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor, staring at my feet, but when i looked up, Ana was there.
"Oh, no you don't," she said almost gently. "Get back in the room, you've already had your breakfast, and you certainly don't need more."
I sighed, but didn't argue. She was absolutely right. After what i'd seen in the mirror last night, i was sure i could go for days upon days without food and still be entirely too fat. I obediently turned myself around and went back into the room, focusing on the fact that the tops of my thighs rubbed each other when i walked and ignoring the intense craving that was by no means hunger. "What i really need is to be hungry," i told myself. "I don't need food; hunger is my food."
"Now you're talking." Ana put her twiggy arm around my shoulders. "Keep that in your mind, and you'll be beautiful in no time. In fact," she whispered, "You should stay out of the kitchen for the rest of the day and not eat anything else, maybe even the rest of the week."
"No, Ana, my mom will freak if i do that."
"Lame excuse, Jo. No one can make you do anything. You're 18; they can't put you in a clinic without your consent."
She was right, but "I don't know if i can hurt her like that."
Ana rolled her eyes. "Oh stop it; forget the week thing. Just avoid the kitchen at all costs as often as you can, ok?"
I nodded. "That i can do."