The Perfect Sister (Sister #7)

by Leanne Davis

  “Okay, Ally. I respect your wish. I’ll leave you alone. Will you call me, though? First thing tomorrow? I’ll be pacing the floor until you do. I know how private you are about anything that doesn’t live up to the perfect façade you insist upon projecting, but try and remember, I don’t want the perfect Ally. I want the real one. This one. Remember, you don’t have to suffer alone with things until you’re back under control again. I’m here, Ally. For real. And no matter what you’re going through right now, I want to be here to go through it with you. Just as I hope you’d want to with me.”

  Her gaze slowly lifted. “Perfect façade? You think I’m a fake? What I project to the world?”

  “No, I think you try to present your best self. Your best face. I think you have to control how much you let out. I just want to move past that with you. I want a real relationship with you. Because you insist, I’ll leave tonight, but I don’t want to, and nothing you could say or do tonight would otherwise deter me from being here with you and for you.”

  “You’d be surprised,” she mumbled as she dropped her chin so he couldn’t see her eyes. She fisted her hand.

  “Will you call me?”

  “Tomorrow.” Her shoulders relaxed. He swore he could hear her gradually releasing her breath. She was obviously relieved he was leaving and obeying her demand.

  “Do you promise?” He stood over her for a pronounced moment.

  She nodded and lifted her gaze, her tears blurring her vision. “I promise.”

  He walked out, feeling anything but comforted. His stomach was in knots, and her music still blared around them. His head began to pound with the earsplitting beat. When he finally got home, he sprawled out, fully dressed, on his bed.

  What was it? What was different about Ally that didn’t totally add up? He didn’t know. There was definitely something off about her behavior, something he sensed for a long time, and knew she held back from everyone. Keeping her secrets until now seemed harmless enough, but now there was something very disturbing about it. Was it just her need to be perfect and appear flawless at all times? There was so many things she was crazy private about. No bodily noises or raw urges for Ally. She was even bashful about going into the bathroom each and every time. It was a big deal for her. He tried to look away, and pretend he didn’t notice when she went in hers or his, but he didn’t get what the big freaking deal was. So what if she peed? Nothing she did was surprising to Nate, but she was so peculiar about it.

  The stuff that was happening with her sister obviously weighed heavily on Ally. She didn’t like Kylie moving on and not needing her anymore. So when Kylie went off to meet their estranged father, what did that do to Ally? Her fear of losing control must have been triggered by the event. Her belief that she lost Kylie was also causing huge problems. What happened tonight? And how was she handling it by insisting that she had to be alone? It was mandatory tonight. Nate had no idea what was going on, but he didn’t buy for two seconds that it was as harmless as she portrayed. She just needed to be alone? She needed something all right, Nate’s exit. Why? What was Ally hiding? How did Ally deal with life’s upsets and trials while managing to remain so perfect on the outside?

  Chapter Seven

  IMAGES SWIRLED AROUND ALLY’S head. She hid in her bathroom, the music blaring, which helped so much. It made her feel more isolated from the world, like no one could hear her, see her, or find her. Even if they found her, they had no idea what she was doing. Her roommates knew that she sometimes “vegged” out to music and they left her alone when she did. They had no clue she had smuggled several days’ worth of groceries inside with her tonight.

  She didn’t expect Nate. Her heart nearly flew from her chest when a knock and his voice interrupted her. She felt frozen, as if someone just shot her full of Novocain. He was right there. Right outside her door, calling for her. Shutting her eyes, she panicked and stuffed everything she could into the cabinet under the sink. All the while, she was horrified that he’d try to unlock the bathroom door too. He could have, of that she was sure. She jumped to her feet, scrubbing her face and rinsing her mouth out with mint-flavored mouthwash. It was the most she could hide in the few seconds she had. She hoped to deflect him from glancing into the bathroom, after insisting he had to leave tonight. She’d have permanently broken up with him if he hadn’t left when she begged him to, and she was fully prepared to do that. An aching, gnawing pit in her stomach was calling to her and she had to fill it. Nate didn’t matter anymore. So yes, she would have broken up with him in order to get him to leave.

  Tonight was all about the argument she’d had with Kylie and Tristan because Kylie had gone to visit their father. Then when she’d been obviously upset, Tristan had tried to say Ally had somehow hindered her sister from healing because she tried to control Kylie too much.

  Kylie had betrayed her. In intimate detail, Ally would always remember that betrayal. She would remember how much it hurt when her sister sided with Tristan against her. Having the two of them accuse her of virtually strong-arming Kylie and not allowing her sister to be “herself.” Reliving the harsh betrayal of their accusations started Ally crying again. Grabbing two handfuls of the cookies, she eagerly stuffed them into her mouth, chewing rapidly and swallowing as fast as she could so she could start to feel better.

  But now, Kylie had Tristan and was just fine and dandy. For years, Ally stood close by and backed up Kylie; but now Tristan showed up and accused her of controlling Kylie? Next, they’ll probably blame her for why Kylie was such a little slut. But oh, no! Tristan didn’t think that, not even when everyone else did. Oh, no! Tristan thought Kylie was just being youthful and carefree or some such shit. He didn’t know though, did he? He didn’t know the real Kylie. Ally did. And she was upsetting. So for Tristan to condemn Ally now over it? “How dare he!” she shrieked as she hurled the package of cookies against the wall. They exploded everywhere on the floor in irregular pieces. Scooting forward on her knees, Ally collected all the small pieces and stuck them into her mouth.

  Tonight, her mom had been consoling Ally, not Kylie. For once, her mom was holding, shushing and trying to calm her down. Not Kylie. Even going so far to agree that if Kylie needed Micah in her life, they had to respect that. It wasn’t their decision to make for Kylie… so on and on went her mother’s unending indulgence.

  Ally could have, right then, told her mother exactly what her sweet, fragile, younger daughter had been up to during the last few years. After only a few months, she cleaned up with Tristan’s influence, and everyone seemed like they just wanted to forget the old Kylie along with all the fear everyone had to live with regarding her welfare. Would Kylie seriously hurt herself? It was a real concern not only for Ally but the entire family. Kylie was hard to read and figure out; and the way she dived so recklessly into partying, casual sex and drug experimentation wasn’t exactly fun to watch. So now it was Ally who had to get better? Ally was being asked to behave? The unfairness of their accusations made Ally restrain the urge to hurl the lamp into the wall as her mom tried to comfort her. As if she were the problem child. The emotionally unstable one. No. Never. Not for one day. It was always about Kylie. Now everyone was suggesting Ally could not let Kylie be? And they were all agreeing that Ally was too controlling?

  Ally sucked on the jug of soda pop. Shaking her head, hot tears rolled down her face and she wiped the back of her mouth with her knuckles. As if. She was controlling, all right, but only in making sure her sister’s physical safety was not compromised despite her stupid antics.

  Oh, but now, we can all forget that since her lord and savior, Tristan Aderly, has entered our dear Saint Kylie’s life, Ally thought to herself.

  Ally’s stomach hurt, and she needed more food. Her thoughts, frenetic in their intensity and skipping all around, seemed to parallel her need to fill up the emptiness inside her with more food.

  She chewed and sampled all the snacks, washing her gulps down with the syrupy soda pop. Eventually, after several pack
s of cookies, prepackaged bakery items, and various boxes of other sweet and savory delights, Ally fell against the bathtub rim and folded over. Her tears had long since been spent. She was exhausted. It was a bad attack. I am a little out of control, she acknowledged silently as she lay there moaning.

  But she needed that. So many things turned out unfair about tonight, and then… her sister went out and saw their… Micah. She refused to call him her father anymore. Micah. No. Her father was dead to her. She refused to let her sister reincarnate his memory. That pain was too much to let anyone, even her little sister, bring back into her life.

  Ally banished his whole existence to avoid the pain. After a few episodes during middle school when her anger overtook her better judgment and exploded, it really scared her. She managed to learn how to temporarily quench it and smother it, but not how to expel it. However, she refused to let her anger rule her life.

  Instead, Ally chose to simply eat whenever she felt bad. Food was harmless. Come on. As if sugar and carbs, her usual fare, could ever hurt her. All it did was release dopamine into her brain, which always made her feel so much better. Yes, she stress ate, and whenever she felt angry or upset or unsure. Eventually, she had to admit, it was an unacceptable habit. So she learned how to purge. It was a carefully thought out response, and not some drastic reaction that she couldn’t control.

  Once, on a talk show, Ally heard people discussing it and she saw a skinny girl around Ally’s own age at the time. That was when she first wondered about it. Could she even do that? Home alone, as she often was, she walked into the bathroom and tried it. Yup, she could do it, and it wasn’t even that hard. Voila! No more sugary calories left in her.

  And that’s how it all started. It happened rather infrequently at first and only when she was highly stressed out. She overate just to feel better. Sometime during her freshman year at college, while living in the dorm and eating the high-calorie school food, Ally gained almost ten pounds, although the drinking she imbibed at first was also a contributing factor. When she stood on the scale, she almost panicked. But she knew exactly what to do. She started getting rid of several normal meals. Not every single one, of course; she wasn’t into fasting. She purged just enough high-calorie meals to make sure she didn’t gain any more weight.

  It worked too. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a reliable way to maintain her self-image. Controlling her weight gave her control over her anger and her emotions too. Eventually, it gave her control of her life.

  That is, until Nate stepped into the picture.

  Ally flipped her head back after leaning over the toilet and pushing her finger as far into her throat as she could tolerate. She noticed small calluses that were starting to form on her vomit finger. A sign, perhaps, she’d been a little too much in control and purging her body a little too often. It was easier for her than using laxatives; and besides, she preferred the immediate gratification it provided. It was instant relief. She almost panicked while stuffing all that food inside her, which she often did in the midst of an attack. She had no other way to describe it. It was like an uncontrollable impulse she had to act on immediately. The compulsion was so strong, like a bee searching for pollen or a hummingbird seeking nectar. It was an instinct of survival, and not just a coping mechanism. And she was quite sure that’s all it was. Even if it weren’t the best solution, it worked for her. And yes, she did like projecting a certain façade to the world. She didn’t consider that a bad thing. She deemed her habits private information. She didn’t need any help with them and they didn’t need to be fixed. So why should anyone have to know about them?

  Ally hadn’t had a serious boyfriend before. She had boyfriends and she dated, of course, but they all fell under very specific guidelines. Boundaries were required with Ally and none of her previous dates and boyfriends would have ever violated them. One rule was, don’t just show up at her place. Ever. And no one ever did before. It was a shock and a disappointment that Nate even dared to. There were a lot of reasons for Rule No. 1, the first being she didn’t want people stopping by or coming into her room anytime they felt like it. She never dreamed Nate would show up today. Then again, how could she have known he knew there was any reason to come by and check on her? Damn f----ing Vickie.

  Flushing the toilet, she got up to rinse her mouth and dry off her face and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked almost wicked, they glowed so red. She took it too far. After all the tears and throwing up, they seemed ready to pop out of her eye sockets. She shook her head.

  Nate thought he wanted a real relationship with her? Why? She almost asked. Why did he want a relationship with her? Sure, they had phenomenal sex, something kind of new for her, but not a good enough reason to get so involved with each other’s personal shit. She wasn’t sure she could handle his, and she was definitely sure he couldn’t handle hers. Imagine if he knew what she was doing tonight. The thought made a nasty laugh escape her mouth. Sure, he’d want to know all about this… She glanced around. The bathroom looked like a trash can had been upended all over the floor. Boxes and individual wrappers were littered everywhere, not to mention crumbs and pieces of food. Her vomit was gone of course, and it was always such a joy to get rid of it, but that didn’t change what she did. As if Nate could understand that. As if he’d want to be around to see her like this. Stuffing food, literally pushing heaps of it into her mouth as if she were a starving refugee, impatiently anxious to alleviate her hunger.

  No way would Nate want to know that. Or experience it. He wouldn’t even get it. Most people didn’t. Yes, it really was a gnawing hunger inside her. An incessant, almost insatiable hunger that no amount of food, no matter what kind, could satisfy when it fully kicked in. Unfillable. But that didn’t stop her from trying. The sensation was just as strong as the urge to pee. When it came on, it was like her body was speaking to her, controlling her, insisting that she obey what her biology commanded. If your bladder is full, your body naturally sends jolts of pain into your brain to let you know what to do. That’s what the urge to purge felt like to Ally.

  At last, she finally finished. Totally exhausted, she curled up into a ball and slept on the bath mat for a while like a cat. Strangely, it eased the utterly depleted feeling she had. When she awoke, it was the middle of the night. Finally, she felt ready to clean up and come out of the bathroom. It was all over. For now, at least.

  Calmly gathering all the food wrappers, Ally put them back into the grocery bag. She tied it all up and stuck it inside her bathroom cabinet. It was her little trick. She often hid the most recent bags of refuse in her room as testament of what she accomplished. She didn’t know if it were out of pride over what she just ingested, or relief because she could eat so much of the foods she usually dared not touch, often to the point of gorging herself with anything in any quantity. Or perhaps the wrappers were simply a reminder of the experience. She wasn’t sure, but she kept the empty wrappers nonetheless, like little trophies of what she could accomplish.

  Taking the bathroom cleanser out of the cabinet, she scrubbed the entire bathroom until it looked pristine and as shiny as a star could sparkle off the tile and porcelain. Eventually, she opened the bathroom door, turned her music down, and chucked off her clothes, throwing them into her dirty clothes hamper. Then, she put on fresh pajamas, brushed her hair and teeth, and clicked off the light. Looking around, she felt satisfied that all was in order again, including herself. She snuggled into bed for the rest of the night. All was well, finally; and Ally slept like the dead.

  ****

  It was just after ten the next morning when a soft knock rapped on his door. Nate opened it to find Ally standing there with her hands stuck into her jacket pockets. Her hair was down and curling softly at her elbows, and she was all shiny with her makeup back in place. Her face was still pale, however, and her eye sockets still seemed a little red, but she was completely transformed from last night. He shoved the door fully open and turned to let her come in.


  She followed without a word. Nate sat down on the bed, and she sat in the one lone chair he had. A discarded dining room chair, it was small and hard with no armrests. She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

  Nate leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his feet flat on the floor. His hair was still wet from showering and he wore jeans and a sweatshirt. He rubbed his wet hair back. “Did you finish whatever you needed to do last night?”

  Ally cleared her throat and shuffled her butt around a little bit. “I just needed time to process it. I do that. You should realize that I don’t always run to people. I never have. Not my way. I like to figure things out a little on my own before I talk to anyone else. That goes for my mother and sister too, the two people I’m bound to tell things to before anyone else.”

  He nodded. “I get that, I guess. Look, you kind of fell into this… whatever you think this is. I didn’t, Ally. I’ve been fantasizing about being with you since I was a freshman. I told you from the start I don’t take this lightly and I want something real between us. Are you even capable of wanting something like that with me? I don’t need your undying love, but I do need to know if you consider me just a casual, fun fling. Because I can’t… I just can’t be that with you. I think I realized that last night. I can’t do it.”

  Nate didn’t look up, but he could see Ally’s head nodding through the corners of his eyes. “It’s not just a casual, fun fling. I might have responded to you that night because I was drunk, but the rest of it has been all about us. I know that much. You’re so honest and open… with how you feel about me. I envy you for that. I don’t know how to be. But I really like you too. More than I ever counted on. I was scared to come here this morning mostly because I don’t want you to be mad at me. But I know I am difficult. I have pretty defined boundaries that I can’t just ignore because I feel… something for you. If you can live with that for now…”