A Really Awesome Mess Read Online Free PDF Page A

from bad to worse when a student mentor—a girl named Alisha on level five, which meant she was
this close
to getting sprung from Heartland—came to escort me to the cafeteria for dinner.
    “Okay, so it’s my job to tell you the rules. And the rules are, you have to have a protein, a grain, a fruit, and a vegetable at every meal,” she told me as she plunked an
obscene
amount of food on our plates. “And you have to finish your entire meal, too.”
    I stared at her like she was from another planet. To me, sheactually was: The Planet F-A-T. I felt sorry for her. If I still felt this bad after losing twenty pounds, she must absolutely
despise
herself.
    “Sorry,” she said, shaking her head like
Hey, what can you do?
“They’re really strict with us eating-disordered girls.”
    A familiar anger radiated through my body, starting at my toes and working its way up until even my hair felt mad. Really? That was what my parents had told Heartland to get me locked up here? Wow. What a crime. All I’d done was get rid of some stubborn baby chub. I didn’t have a problem.
They
were the ones who had a problem—with me.
    “You … “I started, but the words got stuck in my throat. I cleared it and tried again. “Have an eating disorder? Had, I mean?”
    The girl patted her bulging belly. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she was a wayward ghost girl who haunted the halls at night. “You’ll find out pretty soon you can’t actually get
rid
of an eating disorder. You spend the rest of your life
recovering
from one.”
    If that was what recovery looked like, I’d rather die, not that I told Alisha that. “Sorry, that must be hard,” I said. “But I actually don’t have an eating disorder. I’m here because I got kicked out of school for bullying some douche bag on Facebook. Unofficially, though, I kinda think my parents were just sick of people asking them who the little Chinese chick was.”
    Alisha looked at me with something like pity in her eyes. Which is exactly how I looked back at her and her muffin top. “Save it for your therapist,” she said. “For now, you have to put the required amount of calories on your plate and eat them all.”
    There was no freaking way I’d worked this hard to look half decent only to have it taken away from me by some blubber-loving freaks. Although I only resorted to purging on days I accidentally ate a little too much air-popped popcorn or grabbed a second fat-free, sugar-free yogurt, it was becoming clear I’d have to rely on this tactic a little more heavily here.
    Like, after every single meal.
    It wasn’t ideal, but nothing about this situation was. Whatever it took to keep from ballooning up like an Oompa Loompa again was what I was willing to do. A little pain so I wouldn’t gain. Totally worth it.
    Pudgemeister Alisha and I carried our two-ton trays to a table and sat down. I nibbled at the corn kernels drowning in buttery sauce, feeling entirely nauseous and wondering how I was going to wait to go to the bathroom to puke and not do it right here, right now.
    This guy across from me was watching as I pushed the yellow mush around on my plate. “You anorexic or something? Is that why you’re in this lovely therapeutic setting?”
    I wanted to tell him to shut up and mind his own business, but he was kind of cute. Okay, totally my type. He hadthat skinny, lost-puppy-dog, indie-rocker kind of thing going. If I hadn’t sworn off of guys forever, I might’ve given this one a second look.
    “Nah, bullying,” I started to explain, but Alisha chimed in before I could finish.
    “Justin, you may not ask other new students about their issues at mealtime. We talk about those sorts of things during groups, which start tomorrow along with regular classes. The therapists can maintain appropriate boundaries there. For now, try to stick to less controversial topics.”
    “Oh sorry,” he said, giving me a wink. “Let me rephrase my question: Does your