By the time she arrived at the football field, a big crowd was already milling around. Little kids chased each other back and forth, and the ticket table was surrounded by people hurrying to buy tickets. Robin tried to focus. The bright, relentless sunlight seemed to cut through her head like a knife. She winced from the pain.
"Robin! Come on, you're so late!" Cara said, running over to her. "We need you at the ticket table."
Robin blinked slowly. "What?"
"Come on," Cara repeated. She grabbed Robin's arm and dragged her along behind her.
While stumbling along, Robin felt another wave of dizziness clouding her vision. She bumped into someone and mumbled an apology. The ticket table was the one thing she could concentrate on. If she could just get there, she knew she would be all right.
"The TV people are here," Cara said excitedly. "They want to get some group shots of us. And when the ice-cream trucks arrive, Maria's dad is going to make a formal announcement."
"OK," Robin whispered.
Suddenly Robin wished George were there. She wanted his strength and his help. But she knew in her heart that she needed something much more than George. She needed her life back again. Right now she felt transparent, weightless, unreal. She wondered for a fleeting moment if she were dying.
"Robin! Where've you been?" Jessica demanded. She shoved a can opener into Robin's hands. "Open the chocolate syrup, will you?"
Robin nodded and grasped the opener. She looked at the rows and rows of cans in front of her. She pulled one close to her and tried to clasp the opener around the lip. Her hand was so weak that she couldn't clamp it shut.
"What's wrong with you?" Jessica asked, grabbing the opener away. "We need all of these open!"
Robin shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can do it."
"Well, hurry up, we—here's the ice cream!" Jessica slapped the opener down on the table and darted away through the crowd.
"Attention, folks!" Mayor Santelli spoke into a microphone. "I see by your excited faces that you're all waiting for something."
The crowd's laughter echoed in Robin's head. She tried to concentrate on opening the chocolate syrup.
"If you're looking forward to this as much as I am," Mayor Santelli continued, "you're really hungry for ice cream! Let's remember that this event would not have been possible without the hard work and dedication of the Sweet Valley High cheerleaders. Let's give them a big hand!"
The crowd applauded. Robin stared at the sea of faces all around her. It all seemed unreal. She vaguely saw that the other cheerleaders were converging on two large refrigerator trucks that had pulled up by the kiddie pool pyramid.
I have to open this, Robin told herself grimly. Squeezing her eyes shut, Robin grasped the opener with both hands and punctured the seal on the can. With difficulty she worked the opener around the can. An intense sweetness drifted up into her face, making her feel nauseated.
"Look at all that ice cream!" a little boy yelled. "I never saw so much!"
A babble of excited voices filled the air. People were still buying tickets, and others were exchanging their tickets for bowls and spoons. Jessica, Cara, Annie, Sandy, and Amy were busily dumping ice cream into the kiddie pools. Laughter and shouts of encouragement surrounded them as the mounds of ice cream grew larger and larger.
Robin raised the lid from the can of chocolate syrup. The syrup looked like a dark, sticky well. Suddenly Robin felt so dizzy that she couldn't see at all. The crowd's attention was so focused on the growing sundae that Robin was left completely alone.
Something's happening to me. She heard her voice as if from very far away.
"Robin?" She heard another faint voice. "Robin?"
A wash of darkness filled Robin's eyes, and she felt herself falling.
Elizabeth shoved Todd toward Robin and dropped her notebook and camera to the ground. "Todd! Catch her!"
Robin fell through Todd's arms like a stone. He knelt by her behind the table and tried to hold up her head.
"Robin?" Elizabeth cried, kneeling by her friend. "Oh, Todd. She looks awful!"
Todd nodded anxiously. "Maybe we should call an ambulance."
By now several people at the edge of the crowd had noticed Robin. Elizabeth stood up and looked at them. "Can somebody call nine-one-one?" she begged. "I think she's really sick!"
She bent over Robin again and took her hand. It was icy cold.
"Todd, she's freezing!" Todd pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around Robin. Their friend was breathing harshly, and her cheeks were deadly white.
"What happened?" Jessica asked as she rushed over. "Oh! What happened to her? She looks as if she's dying!"
"She fainted," Elizabeth said quickly. She looked over at the kiddie pools. The other cheerleaders were still busily piling up ice cream and dumping out entire cans of chocolate syrup, marshmallow sauce, and cherries, but they were aware of the small group huddled on the ground. They knew something was very wrong, but they had a duty to keep the Super Sundae going.
"What should I do?" Jessica asked.
Elizabeth frowned, still watching Robin's ashen face. "Somebody's already calling an ambulance. Just keep the sundae going."
Reluctantly Jessica went back to the crowd. Elizabeth and Todd stayed with Robin and tried to rub some warmth back into her hands. Before long, they heard the wail of a siren, and soon two uniformed emergency medical technicians were taking charge. Curious onlookers were kept at a distance.
"Is she going to be OK?" Elizabeth asked.
One of the paramedics was listening to Robin's lungs with a stethoscope. "I'd say she has pneumonia," the woman said curtly. "She looks malnourished, too."
"Definitely," her partner replied. He raised Robin's eyelids and checked them with a tiny flashlight. "Is she on a diet?"
The question sent a shaft of guilt through Elizabeth. "Yes," she whispered.
She turned to Todd. "I knew she was going too far," she said in an anguished voice. "I should have tried harder to stop her!"
"You didn't know it was this bad." Todd put his arm around her shoulders. "It's not your fault."
The professional attitude and efficient behavior of the paramedics left Elizabeth speechless. She watched silently while they wrapped Robin in a blanket and placed her on a stretcher. Though the entire crowd was now aware of what was happening, people respectfully kept their distance. When Robin was put in the ambulance, a hush fell over the crowd.
"She'll be fine, ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Cooper said into the microphone. "Let's not let the ice cream melt."
When he had finished his announcement, he hurried over to Elizabeth and Todd. "What on earth happened?"
"Robin Wilson fainted," Elizabeth explained.
"Do we know why?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "She hasn't been eating. But I didn't know it was this bad."
"We'd better go call her mother," Mr. Cooper said gently as he took Elizabeth's arm. "You can tell me about it on the way."
Eleven
Robin rose up slowly through unconsciousness before opening her eyes. She had the sensation of being in an unfamiliar place. The bed she was lying on wasn't hers, and there were distant sounds that she couldn't identify. She was so tired that she couldn't remember anything that had happened. At last she lifted her heavy eyelids. She was in a hospital room.
Frowning with pain, she raised her hand to rub her temples. Something held her arm back. She looked down to see a tube attached to it. Under the white surgical tape a needle was delivering an IV drip into her system.
"What?" she murmured.
"Robin!" George whirled around from the window and rushed to the chair at her bedside. "You're awake! I was so worried," he said in a choked voice.
The sight of George's familiar face made Robin feel like crying. She looked at him with wide, shadowed eyes. "Why am I here?"
"You collapsed. You have pneumonia," George explained, taking her free hand. He kissed it gently and held it to his cheek
. "How do you feel?"
"I don't know," she replied weakly.
George gulped. "Robin, the doctor says you're really malnourished. Haven't you been eating?"
Robin closed her eyes. She was utterly exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't have the energy to think, let alone talk.
"Robin?" George looked scared and confused. "Why don't you answer me? I mean, don't, if you don't feel well, but I mean—" He stopped and squeezed her hand.
"No," Robin whispered.
"No, what?"
When Robin didn't reply, George drew a deep breath. "Your mother's here. She just went to get a cup of coffee. We've both been here all afternoon. I came as soon as she called me."
You shouldn't have bothered, Robin thought sadly.
"Robin? What's wrong? You're keeping something from me and I don't understand!" George cried desperately. "Why won't you talk to me?"
Robin felt as though a heavy weight were pressing down on her chest. She felt sick and depressed and alone. Her hand lay limply in George's. Just pulling it away would be too difficult.
"Robin?" George seemed about to cry. "What are you doing to yourself? I can't stand to see you like this!"
There were no words Robin could find to tell him how she felt. She knew he was better off with someone like Vicky. Vicky was perfect, beautiful, on top of the world. George wouldn't want to bother with someone as messed up as Robin. He had made it very clear over the past few weeks that he really preferred Vicky.
George sat in miserable silence at Robin's bedside. When the door opened, George looked up, but Robin didn't have the strength to turn her head. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling.
"Oh, honey!" Mrs. Wilson hurried over to the bed. She leaned over and kissed Robin's cheek.
"Hi, Mom," Robin said in a thin, faint voice.
George sniffed hard and stood up. "She won't talk to me." He sounded as young and hurt as a little boy who had lost his dog.
"Why don't you go walk around a little bit," Mrs. Wilson said kindly. "I'll stay with Robin."
George hesitated and then left the room.
Mrs. Wilson sat down where he had been.
"Robin? How do you feel?"
Robin made the effort to swallow and met her mother's anxious gaze. "Not very good," she said, licking her dry lips.
"What were you thinking of?" Her mother's voice was shaky. "You told me you were eating plenty at school. How could you do this?" Her voice rose in anger and in fear. "Oh, Robin," she whispered, pressing one hand to her mouth.
"I'm sorry. I just don't know how it happened."
Mrs. Wilson kissed her daughter again and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. "Can you eat something? Are you hungry?"
Robin shook her head, and her mother winced.
"I'm really tired, Mom," Robin explained after a moment. "I can't eat right now."
Her mother nodded and tried to smile. "OK. Why don't you just get some more rest. I'll be here when you need me."
As Mrs. Wilson stood up a nurse with a brisk, efficient manner came in and checked Robin's IV bottle. "How do you feel, Robin?"
"Tired." Robin closed her eyes. She wished everyone would stop asking her questions. The effort of keeping her eyes open and talking was wearing her out. Her body felt heavy and solid, as if it were being pressed into the bed by weights.
"The doctor will be by in a little while," the nurse said quietly to Mrs. Wilson. "Robin's going to sleep quite a lot. You have to expect that."
Robin kept her eyes closed until she heard her mother and the nurse leave. She knew she had made herself sick by not eating. She knew she was malnourished. Still, she couldn't imagine ever eating again. She had trained herself into a new, unbreakable habit of not eating.
While she lay there, grieving over everything she had lost and what her life had become, she fell back into an exhausted sleep.
When Robin woke up, the curtains on the window were drawn, and she had the feeling that it was night. She turned her head weakly. Surprise coursed through her.
Vicky was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room.
"Robin. Hi." Vicky smiled.
Robin swallowed hard. Her heart was racing painfully. "What are you doing here?"
"I came with George," she explained. "Actually, he came with me. He was so upset that I had to drive his car for him."
Robin was too tired and depressed to voice her skepticism. It didn't surprise her anymore that Vicky would be with George. Of course she would be.
"Listen," Vicky said, pulling the chair closer to the bed. She crossed her long legs and leaned forward. Her face wore an earnest expression. "I think I know what's been going on, and I thought maybe we could talk about it."
Robin turned her head away and stared miserably at the ceiling. "What's there to talk about?"
"You're anorexic," Vicky said quietly. "That's what the doctors told George and your mother. You stopped eating, didn't you?"
"I was on a diet."
"No, listen. I understand." Vicky paused as if to gather her thoughts. "You probably didn't like George spending so much time with me. I could tell you didn't like me the first time we met."
Robin didn't answer. She just wished Vicky would leave her alone.
"And you probably thought I was some kind of competition for you," Vicky continued. "But I have to tell you, Robin, you're so wrong. George is crazy about you. You're all he ever talks about. Even if I did want him, I wouldn't stand a chance with you around. Still, even I could tell he was being kind of a jerk about you lately, kind of selfish. I can see how you might have gotten the wrong idea."
Vicky's words didn't mean anything to Robin. They couldn't be true. She ignored them.
Vicky shifted in her chair. "We're just friends, Robin. George hardly even knows I'm a girl."
"Oh, right," Robin said with a gasp. "Vicky, you're beautiful and perfect."
Vicky raised her eyebrows. "You think I'm perfect? That's a laugh. Look, I know you probably wish I would drop dead, or at least go away—"
"Um-hmm," Robin muttered.
Vicky dismissed Robin's tone and continued. "—but I want to tell you something. When I was about ten, my parents' marriage started going down the tubes. But they always said they'd wait until I was at least fourteen before they'd split up."
Vicky paused and let out a shaky breath. Even Robin could see she had her own painful memories to deal with.
"You know what that did to me?" Vicky asked. "I was the baby of the family, and it was as if I were some kind of time bomb. As soon as I was old enough, my family would split up. It would be my fault. I didn't want that to happen. So you know what I decided to do?"
Robin was curious, in spite of herself. She looked at Vicky and shook her head slightly. "What?"
"I thought that maybe I just wouldn't grow up. If I stayed the baby, my parents would have to stay together. And so I started doing the most crazy, stupid, immature stuff. I started to smoke cigarettes, I stole booze from the liquor cabinet, I smoked pot. And I kept telling myself it was all just for one reason—to keep the family together. I didn't like what I was doing. In fact, after a while, I was pretty miserable."
"So?" Robin felt a growing sense of amazement at hearing Vicky's story. On the surface, Vicky seemed so totally pulled together. But below the surface, there was still a frightened girl whose voice shook when she relived her painful memories.
Vicky stood up and began to pace nervously. "So, I got hooked. I turned into a real dopehead. Instead of pretending to get into trouble, I really did. I was completely messed up. I thought I was controlling my parents' lives for the better, but all I was doing was losing control of my own. Trying to keep my family together almost killed me."
Vicky walked over to the window and twitched the curtain aside. Beyond, the sky was a deep, starry blue. Vicky sighed and shook her head.
"But what happened?" Robin asked.
"I got cleaned up. And my folks got divorced." Vicky turned awa
y from the window with a matter-of-fact smile. "I was ruining myself for nothing. I thought I could control what people did and thought and said, but I couldn't. Nobody can stop bad things from happening."
Robin looked down at the IV tube in her arm. She knew why Vicky had told her her story. The past couldn't be an easy thing for Vicky to talk about, but she had shared it with Robin.
"I don't know what I thought I was doing," Robin admitted in a small, puzzled voice. "It's just that, sometimes it seems as if thin people get all the breaks. I know in my mind that it's not true, but in my heart I'm always afraid I'll be fat again. And I'm afraid that if I get fat, I'll lose everything in my life, all that I've worked so hard for."
"Robin," Vicky said, sitting down again by the bed, "George loves you. He never talks about how skinny you are, or about what a great figure you have. He talks about how funny and smart and sweet you are, and about how good you are at so many things. God! I was so jealous of you! I wish I had a boyfriend who was half as crazy about me as George is about you."
Robin's face flushed, and her heart gave a painful twist. Looking back over the past few weeks, she couldn't quite comprehend what she had done to herself.
"Vicky, is George still here?" she whispered.
"Yes. Do you want me to get him?"
"Yes—no! I can't see him right now. He must think I'm crazy."
Vicky gave her a sad, sympathetic smile. "All he's thinking about right now is how much he loves you, and how much he wishes you would get better."
"Yeah, well . . ." Robin sighed and looked out at the dark sky. "I have to be by myself for a while. But thanks."
She turned to look at Vicky once more. They didn't speak, but Robin felt that something important had passed between them. Vicky smiled and slipped out of the room.
When she was alone again, Robin stared at the ceiling. She had always been scornful of girls who dieted obsessively. How had she started doing it herself? The word anorexic came back to her and brought a tingle of fear. She knew that people who suffered from anorexia nervosa often died. She just couldn't believe that it had happened to her.
The Perfect Girl (Sweet Valley High Book 74) Page 8