Butter

, the news that I had years of hard work ahead of me had sent me into a binge

used to think she was embarrassed by me, but I eventually figured she just felt guilty—like she was a bad mother for letting me get so big.

these waves of resolve. They never lasted and usually ended in an epic binge

Suddenly that sub didn’t look good at all, and the smell of it made me sick. In fact, everything in front of me instantly looked revolting. I hated every brightly colored candy, every salt-coated chip

Why shouldn’t I? I can’t take another year in this fat suit

m I going to hear you play it in person?

Anna was getting increasingly pushy about meeting up “in real life,” but that ob

“Best friends who haven’t even come to see you in the hospital,” she said.
“They were never really my friends,” I admitted, more to myself than to her.
I expected Anna to stick up for them, as usual, but she surprised me.
“I guess not.” She paused. “I don’t want to be like them.”
“Like what?”
“Like only into the online guy and not—y’know—the actual guy.”
I knew she didn’t mean the website. “It’s different for you,” I said. “What I—what we—”
“It’s not that different.”
A silence settled between us, a

ife.
That post alone was enough to set fire to my veins, but it was followed up by a few in kind, probably friends of Jeremy’s, als

I had stalked Anna online for months before I finally got up the courage to send her a message. I contacted her through one of the few social media sites that didn’t demand photos, and of course, I didn’t tell her who I was. Hey, I’m that guy with the specially built oversize desk in the back of your composition class! Want to chat? Yeah, right.
I told Anna I went to private school and that I wholeheartedly agreed with her posts about the band RatsKill being so over. She’d loved that. And now, three months later, I was pretty sure Anna loved me. Even now, it was like she’d been

even if you don’t go through with it, they’ll be done with you after New Year’s.”