The Room Just Down The Hall

45 minutes later, we were called down for dinner. I had changed into actual clothes (an old pair of ripped, dark-wash blue jeans and an over sized sweat shirt, with no bra or padding underneath, mind you), hurrying down the stairs in an attempt to grab my food and bring it up here without being noticed, or at least get a seat at the table a safe distance a ways from both my brother and Frank. Too late. My parents were waiting expectantly, and they had on those “catalogue family from the 60’s” smiles that made it painfully clear that this dinner was to be proper and full of disgustingly family-friendly small talk about school and grades and boyfriends, like in a Disney-channel movie. There was no way I was slipping past them. And, how fortunate, the only seat not taken was directly across from Frank. He shot me a picture-perfect smile, waiting expectantly for me to sit down. Which I did, reluctantly… Dinner was lasagna, which is one of my least favorite foods. I’m not a picky eater, I’m really not. And most nights I would be pigging out on seconds and thirds. My mom is an amazing cook. I just don’t like the texture of ricotta. So I sat there silently, nibbling on a piece of garlic bread, neglecting the serving of the Italian dish on my plate and listening to my Dad complain about work and how much stress his boss is putting on him, blah blah blah…

“Ashley, sweetie, why aren’t you eating?” His concerned voice cut into my hazy train of thought. Before I had the chance to offer my own explanation, Zach replied for me.

“She’s anorexic. She wants to be skinny for this boy she met online. He lives in the area, but she hasn’t met him yet. He says he’s in college, but I think he’s a low-life homeless perv.”
I just gaped at him, chewing on the metal tips of my fork. Ignoring the ridiculously worried words of my parents and Frank’s wide-eyed stare, I spoke over it all, my gaze locked on Zach.

“Fuck you. I would never starve myself for a guy! I’m not anorexic, and I don’t have a pervy college internet boyfriend, or a boyfriend at all for that matter. You’re a full-of-shit-prick, and I’m sick of living under the same roof as you,” I spat back in my defense. He just looked at me with his arms crossed over his chest, amused. I was on the edge of my seat.

“Ashley… Is any of what he just said true?” My mom asked carefully. Parents are so quick to question their own children that they will literally believe anything that you feed them. Anything. Even, unbelievably, the shit that seeps from my brother’s mouth.

“ If any of you paid the slightest bit of attention, you would know that I haven’t liked lasagna since I was like, seven, when I had my first taste. Besides, if my goal was to lose weight, why, you fucking genius, would I be eating bread? Bread makes you fat. But I don’t care about that because I don’t live my life to please others, and garlic bread fucking tastes good.” I was standing up now.

“Ashley, Honey, we’re just a little concerned- “

“What, because of Zach’s un-creative lie? You’re worried that any one of those words holds any amount of truth? They don’t. Why would you believe a single thing he says?”
I was close to heading to my room now, drowning out the anger and frustration with loud music, as loud as my speakers would allow before the point in which they break. I shot Frank a glance to catch his reaction to all of this, noticing he had hardly touched his own plate, either.

“Look, Frank hasn’t taken a bite either, why isn’t he being irrationally accused of an eating disorder?” I gestured sharply with an almost accusing finger.

“I’m vegetarian…” he said quietly, and I almost felt bad for turning the attention on him, but not quite.

“May I be excused?” I asked through clenched teeth. At the first nod of permission from my Mother, I set off for the stairs, not turning back (but considering it) at the sound of my brother’s voice muttering “whore,” after my leave. I didn’t turn around to smack him (like I should have), I didn’t turn around to watch my parents lecture him (as if it would make a difference), and I didn’t turn around to notice Frank watch me go (because he probably just wanted out of the situation himself. Poor Frankie.)

Notes

So, if you take the time to read this, I am eternally grateful to you. If you liked it, tell me why.
If you hated it, again, tell me why. Thanks ^.~