Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- Author’s Note
- Glossary
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Acknowledgments
“Yes. I’m fine. It was a fast game. I guess I just wasn’t up to the pace. I’ll step up my training and—”
The coach shook her head and cut her off. “You’re thinner every week. Is that intentional?”
Clare gave an embarrassed snort. “No. I guess, it’s just that I’m doing a lot.”
“Debbie says you’ve gone vegetarian?”
“Yes.”
“That’s new?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. Is it possible you’re not getting enough protein?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Clare, which was a lie. The reason she’d stopped eating meat was to reduce her calorie intake. For a while, it had stopped her friends from commenting on how little she put on her plate in the dining room.
She left the hockey field having assured coach Gordan she’d improve her diet. The next week, she quit the team. She never spoke to the coach or Debbie again.
It was Will who made her face the truth. He also bore the brunt of the fallout. They were walking together to lectures one morning. Will took her hand.
“You’re quiet today,” he said.
“A bit tired,” she replied. “It’s been a busy week.”
“Perhaps you should sleep in over the weekend. You don’t have to wake up at five to run every morning, you know.”
Clare stopped, pulled her hand out of his and looked at him. “How do you know I run at five every morning? Do you spy on the women’s residence?”
He laughed. “No! Lynne told me.”
Lynne lived in the room across the passage from Clare. “Is she spying on me?”
Will frowned. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. She hears you go out, I guess.”
“Why do people care about when I run and how much I eat? What is it with you?”
“What? Clare, be reasonable. You’re thin and you’re getting thinner. We care about you. That’s why.”
“God! Not you, too. I am not thin. I might be slight, but that’s because I run. Runners are typically slight. Or hadn’t you noticed?”
“It’s not just the running,” mumbled Will. This clearly wasn’t easy for him.
“What? I eat.”
“Do you? No one sees you doing it. Not me. Not your friends at res. A boiled egg for breakfast? An apple for lunch? Salad for supper, setting aside the feta cheese? That’s not eating.”
“You take notes? All of you?”
Will scuffed the gravel, his trainers growing dusty. “We care. That’s all.”
“Well, I can’t bear it,” she said, her eyes brimming. “I can’t bear the watching and the questions and the judging. It’s stifling. Just give me . . . give me some space. All of you.” She turned and walked away, head down, tears hot on her cheeks.