“Yeah. I have lots of it. I hate looking at myself.”

“Are you still . . . ?”

“Yeah. A lot.” I knew what she was going to ask.

“Listen, I was in a bad place that day. I was stressed with school, tests, and I . . .”

“I know,” I said. “I should get going. See you around.”

I looked up and caught eyes with her. She looked scared when she saw me. That was another emotion I had never seen from her before. We’d watched movies of people getting chased with axes, jump scares on the Internet, and she reacted with laughter. But if seeing me in this state was the only thing that ignited fear in her, then maybe I was a monster.

“Bye, Adrian,” she said softly as I turned and walked away. The school bell rang and I got lost somewhere in the noise.

***

That night I didn’t purge. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I took off my shirt, and I could see my skin fold and drip over my waist like it was clay. I wanted to be beautiful. But that wasn’t beautiful. That was what monsters looked like. My skin was so stretched out across my stomach, chest, and both my arms. It was like I had wings, but I didn’t feel like a superhero. A few months ago, I wanted to be able to take my shirt off at the beach, but right then I was afraid to wear anything besides layers and long sleeves. It was like my old body was a ghost that was haunting me. I didn’t know how to fix it. I was broken, and I felt trapped. I just wanted to look beautiful.

Chapter 11 Excess

The next morning, I sat in the waiting room of a hospital with a ticket that read forty-seven on it. Out of all the people in that waiting room, I was number forty-seven. I was supposed to be in school, but I took the day off without telling my mom. She wouldn’t find out. She was on vacation with my dad in Yarmouth. If the school called, I would delete the message they left on the answering machine. I sat there worrying about everything. I was also tired and couldn’t focus on anything. My stomach was on empty and I was exhausted. I had to lean against the rail as I walked to the waiting room earlier. Folks walking by must have thought I was sick. A nurse walking by asked if I needed help, I waved him off. I didn’t enjoy the attention it brought.

I was worried that I would need surgery, I was also worried about whether the surgery for my excess skin was covered under my parents’ health insurance. I had done some research about it and found out that unless my excess skin was causing me other illnesses, then it wouldn’t be covered. It was. It was causing me to feel depressed, it was making me feel gross in most of my clothes, and it hung from my stomach, chest, and arms. I thought there would be a chance I’d hear good news, so I kept my fingers crossed.