How It Feels to Fly(77)

I don’t want to keep moving backward. I want to be where Katie is right now. I want to be the one so full of relief and happiness that my body can’t contain it.

She looks like she could fly off the platform. I’ve been there. I was there the first time I nailed a triple pirouette en pointe. I was there on Nutcracker opening night, performing Dewdrop Fairy in front of a packed house. I was there when I received my initial acceptance letter to this summer’s ballet intensive.

I know how it feels to fly. I want that feeling back.

And just like that, I know what I have to do.

“YOU’VE GOT MORE balls than I gave you credit for,” Zoe says after I tell her my plan and her crucial role in it. “I was gonna call another meeting of the Secret Society of Crazy Campers tomorrow, but this is so much better.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“Are you kidding? Never mind helping you—which is fine—this is like the ultimate ‘eff you’ to my parents, and to this place. I’m totally in.”

“And you can get what we need?”

“Leave it to me.” She heads up the stairs but pauses at the top to look down at me, chin in hand. “My little Ballerina Barbie’s all grown up.”

I roll my eyes at her, feeling more like myself. The fog is lifting. I’m putting myself back together, brick by brick. Filling in the cracks. And if this plan works . . .

It won’t—

It will. It has to.

I find Katie and Jenna in the Dogwood Room. I tell them, keeping my voice low, what Zoe and I will be doing tomorrow. I also tell them why it has to be Zoe who helps me. “She’s been trying to get sent home since we got here. She won’t care if it backfires.”

“Don’t you care if it backfires?” Katie asks, eyes wide.

“Of course I do. But”—I gulp—“I have to do this. So, um, don’t tell anyone where we’ve gone. At least, not until it’s too late to stop us.”

“We won’t,” Jenna says. “Be careful, okay? Drive safe.”

There’s only one thing left to do after that. I knock on Dr. Lancaster’s office door feeling anxious but resolute. When she says, “Come in!” I don’t hesitate.

“Sam!” she says, clearly surprised that it’s me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

The words “can I talk” flip a switch inside her. She beams at me. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

I sit. I examine my fingernails. I poke at my bruised wrist. “There’s, um, something I need to tell you. Tonight.” In case tomorrow is a huge disaster.

“What is it?”

“I—”

Stop. Seriously.

I say it fast, before I can change my mind. “I wanted to make myself throw up on Friday. If Jenna hadn’t found me and sat with me, I might’ve gone through with it.”

I don’t know what kind of a reaction I was expecting. Horror. Disgust. But Dr. Lancaster’s face doesn’t change. That’s what gives me the courage to keep talking.

“I haven’t done that in a long time. I tried it earlier this year, when dieting wasn’t working, but—I didn’t like doing it, so I stopped. And then on Friday, everything felt so out of control, and I was so overwhelmed. . . .”

Why are you doing this? my inner voice screeches.

Because this might be my last chance to really talk to her, I remind myself, and this is the thing I still need to say.

“Thank you for telling me, Sam. Have you told anyone else?”

“Just Jenna.”

“Not . . . ?”

Andrew. I stare at the floor. “No. But he—he said something that I can’t stop thinking about. He told me that when he wanted to quit football, he thought about letting himself get hurt, badly, so he wouldn’t have to tell his dad he didn’t want to play anymore.” I look at Dr. Lancaster, wondering whether it’s okay for me to be talking about Andrew in here. “He told me he realized hurting yourself to get what you want isn’t brave. And I guess I—I’ve been beating myself up for wanting to make myself throw up, but I also beat myself up for not being strong enough to do whatever it takes to be thin, and I—”

I’m wringing my hands. My stomach is in knots. I keep talking, even though everything in me is screaming Stop stop stop stop stop.

“Why is it so hard for me? Why can’t I be like him, and say, nope, I don’t want to do something that hurts me, and be done with it?”

“Well, first of all, he was speaking to you with the benefit of hindsight. He quit football a year and a half ago. You’re still very much in the dance world. You’re grappling with your issues in real time.”

“Right, but—”

“Secondly, the fact that you’re grappling at all is commendable. You’re stronger than you think. And tonight, you took an important step on your journey.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Oh. Thanks, Dr. Lancaster.”

“You’re quite welcome. Do you want to keep talking about this?”

I check the clock. I have to get to bed early. And I have so much to do before then. “Not tonight. Maybe another time?”