• Highest Ranking #1 in Bulimia •
•Highest Ranking #1 in Free Mental Illness •
He's a quarterback struggling with a secret eating disorder that's destroying his life.
She's a food-fanatic who loves every curve in her beautiful body.
When their scho...
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"Please don't act weird." I mumble nervously at my mom who's quickly fluffing up some pillows in attempt to make our home look somewhat presentable.
I love my house. It's homey and cozy- with a large leather couch- and flat screen tv that is essential for football fanatics like my family. But It doesn't compare to Cira's home... at all.
"I never act weird." My mom pouts playfully. "I'm a cool mom right?"
"Yes- so cool." I say sarcastically. "Just please -don't whip out baby pics."
"Aww sorry babe." My mom jokes giving me a quick kiss on the cheek, "No guarantees there."
The doorbell rings, and my body stiffens in nerves.
"Relax- it's your father." My mom says opening up our front door. My dad arrives carrying a load of groceries- but the minute I see his ratty old football team sweatpants I groan.
"Dad! Can you change your pants to something more presentable?" I cringe. He's had those sweatpants for years- and they're covered in tiny holes at the seams.
"Hey hon." My mom smiles, kissing my dad softly on the lips. "He's just ashamed off us."
"I'm not ashamed of you guys." I say, rolling my eyes.
"Kidding. Lighten up kiddo." My mom says- than her eyes narrow and she bursts into a wide grin. "Oh my god. You like this girl don't you!"
I feel my cheeks begin to burn. Do I like her? I don't respond, but can't hide my face quick enough.
"You do!" My father says. "Hope she's better than that Amanda."
My mom smacks him on the shoulder with mail she's putting away. "Ray- be nice."
"Sorry- sorry." My dad says, but he winks in my direction.
The doorbell rings and this time I know it's Cira. Thank god my little sister is at a sleepover, because Cira won't have to face Becca's interrogation.
I brush off my hands against my pants and swiftly open up the door.
"Hi." Cira says softly, her big chocolate eyes peering curiously into our house. She's wearing a flowy cold shoulder top, with jeans. Her thick hair falling in cascades down her back.
"Hey." I say breathlessly, "Come on- that's my mom and dad."
I brush a hand through my hair nervously, but happily my mom pulls Cira into a hug.
"I've heard all about you!" My mom says excitedly. "I love your hair- it's gorgeous."
"Thank you." Cira blushes, "But I always wished I was born a blonde like you."
"Oh nonsense." My mom says shaking her head- but I can tell she's pleased.
My dad welcomes her, and I can't help but to be slightly embarrassed-he's still wearing those ridiculous sweatpants.
