Dad got me discharged the next afternoon, and not a moment too soon either. The nurse was about to force me to have lunch. He really saved me at the last second.

“Alright, ready to go?” Dad asked, trying to look cheery.

I nodded and when I stood up, my vision went black, and I felt myself fall back onto the bed. When I opened my eyes, I just saw dad standing over me, a saddened expression on his face. It took me a second to realize that I must’ve passed out. I have no idea why though. I’ve never felt better. Dad didn’t look like he knew what to do with me.

“Ugh… can you, um… grab a wheelchair or something?” I asked.

“Fucking lazy ass bitch. Can’t even be bothered to walk anymore, can we?”

“Actually, just help me up,” I corrected. “I can make it.”

“No, you stay down,” Dad ordered. “I’m going to find a wheelchair.”

“First it’s a wheelchair, then it’s a mobility scooter because you’re too fucking fat because you’re too lazy to even take a step.”

“Dad, really, I’m fine-”

“Diane, really, you’re not,” he said sternly, walking off to find something. It kind of unnerved me how he hadn’t scolded me or anything yet. He was a bit too quiet through the whole thing.

Dad came back a couple minutes later with a wheelchair and helped me into it. As he wheeled me out to the car I tried to lighten the mood.

“I thought I’d have to wait until I had kids and was in a retirement home to get pushed around in a wheelchair,” I joked with a laugh.

Dad continued on, stone-faced. Tough crowd. I sunk into my car seat, feeling awful with all this silence. I felt like this horrible, selfish daughter who just wanted to hurt everyone around me by starving myself and fighting anyone who wanted to help.

“That’s because you are a horrible, selfish daughter. You’re a shit friend too. You make promises you don’t intend to keep. You make everyone worry about you. Nothing but a burden on everyone. And that’s why you deserve to starve.”

When we got home, Dad pretty much had to carry me to my room. Every time I tried to stand the world started spinning. When I tried walking more than a couple steps, I passed out, so he didn’t have much of a choice. He carried me into my room and put me into bed.

“He’s going to make you fat if you stay in this bed.”

“It’s obvious you need a meal,” sighed Dad. “What do you want?”

“Told you.”

“Um…” I had to think of something low-calorie but still looked reasonable at a glance. “I want some oatmeal.”

“Just oatmeal?” he questioned. “Nothing on it?”

“That’s still too much if you ask me.”

“Um… no?” I said hesitantly. What was the problem? Oatmeal was just fine on its own.

“I want you to put something with it,” he said gently. “We need to get you eating more, and that won’t happen if you just have the bare minimum all the time.”

“Trust me, you don’t eat the minimum ever. You scrape the maximum most of the time.”

Diana was right, I did ride the line of my maximum allowance most of the time, and went over it a lot. But I thought of what else would be fine to add.

“Just add a couple blueberries or something,” I mumbled.

“Thank you,” he said, almost looking relieved.

He came back a few minutes later with the oatmeal. It was a bit more than I would’ve wanted, and he put more than a couple blueberries in there, but he let me get away with only eating half. Not too bad. Diana was content enough with it. As long as he didn’t do too much with pushing food onto me, I would be fine to listen to him and still continue my plan. I didn’t want to choose him or Diana any more than I wanted to choose between Robin and her. There was nothing I wanted more than the best of both worlds.

*   *   *   *   *

The next day, I got a call from Robin, and for the first time in a while, we got to have a talk as good friends. She said she’d be supportive of me recovering however she could, and she’d be there to make sure I was alright. It was all great, friendly, supportive talk. Which made me feel worse when I didn’t really have any intention of recovering for real. It was the end of the talk that got me though.

“Hey, do you think you’d be on for tonight?” Robin asked.

“On for what?” I asked, confused.

“Duh, our date.”

“Our what?!” I asked, even more confused.

“Chill out,” she said, laughing her ass off. “The dinner you promised me. Are you good for tonight?”

“Oh, that.”

“No, you’re not good for tonight. Not tonight, and not ever!”

“Can I take a rain check?” I asked.

“What? You got something going on?” Robin asked suspiciously.

“Well… um…” She got me.

“Dinner's at my place at 6. I’ll tell your dad too,” she said right before hanging up. I put my phone down and groaned.

“I told you that you’d regret this.”

“I hate making promises,” I lamented out loud.

“Find a way to not go, bitch. You don’t deserve whatever food she’s gonna force down your throat to layer the pounds on.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got an idea,” I muttered. I inhaled as deep as I could. “DAAAAAAD!!!” I bellowed as loud as I could. Doing that actually made me a bit lightheaded and dizzy.

“God, just breathing is too much for your lazy ass now. Bitch, focus on getting some stamina instead of getting fat.”

I heard Dad run up the stairs and to my room. By the time he threw open my door, he looked out of breath himself. I have to admit, the slight annoyed look of disbelief he had was kinda funny.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Don’t answer your phone-” I said as his phone rang. He leered me in the eyes as he answered it.

“Yeah… Mhm… 6pm? Gotcha. Yeah, I’ll make sure. You too. Bye.” He hung up and locked eyes with me again. “You’re going.”

“Ughhhhhh!” I moaned, throwing a small tantrum in my bed.

“Diane, you made a promise,” Dad scolded. “So you’re going to follow through with it.”

“I don’t wanna,” I complained.

“You made your bed, now lie in it.”

“I am lying in it!” I exclaimed, patting the bed. “You won’t let me get up to do anything!”

“Because this morning you tried to walk up and down the stairs to try and burn calories,” he shot back angrily.

“Well, it was working too,” I pouted.

“You’re going to share one dinner with your best friend like you promised in your hospital bed,” he said firmly before walking out and closing the door.

“You are not going over for dinner.”

How am I going to get out of it? Dad’s making sure I go.

“Pretend you’re sick.”

I don’t think I have to pretend. He’s making me go anyway.

“Hurt yourself.”

I’m… not into that. I’ve been hurting myself enough with starvation.

“Well, put your lazy fat ass into gear and think of something!”

Well… maybe if I put on a super weak and frail act, Dad would let me put it off to some other night, and I could buy time to think about how to get out of it completely.

And that’s exactly what I did. When Dad came to give me lunch, I pretended I was weak and couldn’t stand getting out of bed. Like I’d be that weak ever! But he bought it, and told Robin’s dad that I was too sick to get out of bed and come to dinner. I was in the middle of celebrating with Diana when my phone got a call. I glanced over at it fearfully to see that it was Robin. Oh shit.

“Don’t answer!!!”

I grabbed my phone and answered. If I didn’t pick up, she’d just march over here herself, and that was way worse than just talking over the phone.

“Hello?” I asked, hoping she just wanted another casual talk.

“So you’re not coming to dinner?” she asked grumpily.

“I can’t. I’m not feeling well enough,” I said, trying to fake some voice that said that I was sad I couldn’t go.

“Mhm…” she said suspiciously. I was grinning ear-to-ear though. With how I was right now, there’s no way anyone would make me go anywhere. “I’m still getting a dinner with you.”

“Of course,” I said reasonably. “When are you thinking?”

“Tonight,” she said firmly.

“Um… Robin?” I nervously laughed. “I um, can’t get out of bed tonight.”

“I’ll see you at 6.” 

With that menacing threat, she hung up the phone. I just kind of gave a shrug and moved on. There was no way she was getting me out of bed, and if I couldn’t get out of bed, I couldn’t go to dinner with her. It was simple logic.

*   *   *   *   *

That evening, it was nearing suppertime, and Dad walked in to make sure I had water and everything. Weirdly enough, he didn’t ask me what I wanted. He was more or less pretty quiet. But he did say something before he left.

“Tonight when you eat with Robin, please don’t give her grief about the food,” he sighed.

“Uh, Dad,” I said, a bit annoyed that he forgot what I said in the same day too. “I’m not going to eat with Robin tonight, remember?”

Dad just shrugged his shoulders and walked out, closing my door. Well, that wasn’t very assuring at all. Did Robin make a plan for me to still get out and have dinner with her?! Surely not, right? She thought I was super sick like everyone else did, so she wouldn’t dare drag me out when everyone thinks I can’t last ten minutes out of bed! No, I was just being paranoid. I’d won this time. Then again… I glanced over at the clock and it was a little after 6, when we’d be having dinner usually.

“Oi, Diane!” called a very enthusiastic British voice from behind my door. Oh no. Please no. “Who ordered a pizza!”

“Not me!” I said, panicking and pulling my blankets over my head. Maybe if I hid for long enough, she’d go away. I wasn’t that lucky though.

“Come on Diane,” Robin said, kicking my door open. “You promised me a dinner, and you’re going to give me one. You don’t have to light candles and kiss me while we eat the same piece of spaghetti, but you’re at least going to take a couple slices of pizza!”

“Slices of what?!?” Diana screeched.

I poked my head out from under the blankets to see Robin setting down a folding chair beside my bed with a pizza box in her hand. Oh nonononono, I was not eating that. Pizza was something I loved so much, but it’s a food that triggered me to binge. I especially avoided that stuff. And while I don’t think I could really make it to the kitchen without hitting a wall and getting heard, I didn’t want to chance it.

“You’re not eating that shit and making yourself a fatass overnight!” Diana hissed. “Tell her to fuck off like the bitch she is.”

“Robin, I can’t!” I said firmly, trying to retreat back under my blankets that Robin was starting to pull away.

“Yes, you can!” she shot back. “You deserve a good dinner!”

“No!” I shouted. I had wrapped myself in a complete blanket burrito. I was in my own safe, padded darkness where Robin couldn’t force pizza in my mouth. Like a more claustrophobic homemade padded cell.

“Really, Diane?” she asked, upset. “You promised me! You promised me on your deathbed!”

“I was not on my deathbed!” I protested. “Why does everyone keep thinking that?!”

“Because if you keep doing this, that’s where you’re going! God Diane, is eating one dinner going to kill you?! Think with your damn brain if you still have one!”

And once again, Robin broke through something in me. A little bit of myself that said how much I was starving to eat something came back out, if just for a moment before Diane buried it again.

“You don’t need that shit.”

Robin’s right. One night is ok. I’m still doing more than enough to restrict every other day. I’ll meet the goal soon enough.

“You could meet it sooner if you weren’t funneling shit into your body.”

If we please her now, she might leave us alone about this for a while. I didn’t promise any more dinners with her anyway.

“Mm… fine, but if you binge, it’s your greedy ass’ fault. No more than one slice, bitch. You don’t deserve any more than that.”

I poked my head out from my cocoon of blankets. Robin was sitting in her folding chair, eating a slice of pizza out of the box, very dejected and depressed looking. I felt pretty bad for making her feel that way.

“Look what you did to her,” taunted Diana. “Do you think you deserve dinner after that scene you made? Do you think she even wants to anymore?”

“Hey Robin,” I weakly said, making her look up. “Save a slice for me?”

“Bloody hell, Diane,” she said with a slight smirk, grabbing my phone off the nightstand and throwing it at me, watching it bounce harmlessly off my blanket armor. “Next time, just have a bloody dinner with me without throwing a temper tantrum first.”

“I’m sorry…” I apologized. “I saw the food and freaked out… a bit.”

“A little more than a bit,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But come on over here, the pizza’s going to get cold.”

“I can’t,” I said.

“Diane-”

“No really, I can’t,” I said, struggling in my blankets. “I think I’m stuck. I really do need some help here.”

“God Diane, what would you do without me?” she laughed, crawling across the bed. 

“I’d stay in here until I became a butterfly.”

“Mhm, how about you stay being a Diane and we’ll be fine.”

Robin untangled me from my blanket prison, and we shared the pizza. Well, Robin ate most of the pizza. It wasn’t too big, but I ate two slices. That was Robin’s idea, and it pissed Diana off so much. It was just a plain cheese pizza, so not much to be too paranoid on, and not a ton that Diana could comment on. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was the best dinner, and my favorite one,  I’d had in a long time.