Puke

"Puke"-Eminem

***FLASHBACK AUGUST 2012***

I ended the call, happy for a change. The short phone call was a temporary relief from my life right now. I just got done talking to EJ. He sounds so happy. Not just to talk to me, but in general. I called Brandon as usual. Brandon put EJ on the phone without me even asking. After EJ filled me in on what was going on in his life, he gave the phone to Brandon. I just say goodbye to him.

Things haven't been the same since Brandon found out I was using him to talk to EJ behind Ethan's back. Ethan refused to answer my phone calls when I tried to apologize. His refusal is what spurred me to stop researching and start contacting some of my leads about my mom. Leaving Dallas had to be for something. I had to be reunited with my mom. I found my aunt Patricia and the truth instead.

The pang of regret hits me again. Regret and disappointment seem to be my companions ever since I moved back. Leaving my brother, my friends, and Ethan.. it was all for nothing.

My dad is working from home today, so I eat in my room to avoid him. I ate chicken fingers with gravy, onion rings, mozzarella sticks, and brownies with gummy bears. I washed it all down with a couple of my dad's beers.

I didn't really go through a rebellion phase in high school. The worst thing I ever did was have a relationship with Mr. Perez. I laughed to myself as I finished my beer. This is the most rebellious thing I ever did. Dare to disobey my dad by not only eating in my room, with the tv on, but drinking his beers.

 My adoptive dad was a professional baseball player. He got drafted and moved to California when he was 19. When he retired, he keep that attitude alive by taking business classes, investing in local businesses and becoming an entrepreneur. He always said he was lucky he got a chance to play baseball professionally. But he was most proud of his hard work and accomplishments as a business owner. Something he always stressed the importance of on me and Cam. Hard work, education, and obedience.

Of course him getting a divorce and adopting me caused quite a stir in our gated community. Neighborhood kids loved to tease me about the gossip they heard about me and my mother from their nosy parents. But I didn't care. Those were the only real memories I had of my mom, so I took them. It infuriated Cam. Which is funny because when I first moved in, he barely spoke to me. And when he did, it was in anger. My dad just made it worse by constantly lecturing him on how he needed to be a better big brother.

 Even as a kid, I just wanted Cam to like me. So when he would yell at me or take my toys, I never told on him. I just cried to myself. When my dad would ask me what was wrong, I didn't answer. Then I would get in trouble for not being a 'big girl'. Seeing that, Cam stopped tormenting me and started protecting me. From the neighborhood kids, and eventually from our dad. He would be proud to see me rebel and would be even more pissed off than me about my dad's little secret.

I laid down after eating, the trash from my food still on my desk. I dozed off. I woke up a couple hours later. I took deep breaths and relaxed, trying to get my stomach to settle. I was having cramps. I laid in bed, waiting for it to pass.

The cramps in my stomach turned to churning, and I rushed to the bathroom. I made it just in time. I was kneeling over the toilet. Everything I ate was coming back up. This is getting ridiculous. I didn't eat that healthy in Dallas. Just in moderation. And I recognize the only vegetable I've eaten since I found out the truth was either fried or on a burger, but my body's constant rejection of my bad eating choices is getting old.

I stand up and go through the familiar routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face before I step back out into my room. I stopped as I see my dad at my desk. I sighed as I head to my bed.

"I'll clean it up." I said, tiredly, lying down.

"You will. But we have bigger problems then a dirty desk. You are going to the doctor. Now." My dad declared.

"For daring to contradict you?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"No. For your eating disorder." He replied.

I scoffed. "I don't have a eating disorder."

"You've been throwing up your food for how long? Is this how you lost all that weight in college? I knew I shouldn't sent you with your brother. I knew he couldn't handle you-"

I sat up and glared at him. "That wasn't your choice to make! You didn't send me nowhere. I worked my ass off, and got scholarships and grants. Everything that I didn't earn, Cam took care of. So don't you dare criticize Cam. He's the only person who loves me enough to tell me the truth!" I yell.

"Your tone and language are not acceptable in my house-"

"Fuck this house." I said, standing up.

"Lilian-"

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK this house. We both know the real reason why I'm here. Maybe if you weren't fucking my mom I wouldn't be." I screamed at him.

The only reaction he had to that was a twitch of his lips. And rubbing his temples.

"Cameron told you. I'm not surprised. He threatened it for years." My dad said.

I'm lost for words. Cam knew? I felt sick all over again. I pushed it down.

"You should have told me! I had the right to know! It's my life!!!"

"Did it help you? Are you better for knowing?"

Well of course fucking not. That wasn't the point.

"I should have known!!!" I yelled.

"I disagree. But that doesn't matter. What matters is getting you well."

I stopped listen at this point. Of course it doesn't matter. My needs and wants never matter. To anyone it seemed. I laid back on the bed. When he keeps ranting on, I looked up at the ceiling and yelled.

"I'M FUCKING DISGUSTED. I DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN EATING DISORDER. THIS FUCKING FAMILY MAKES ME SICK!!!"

My dad walked to the side of the bed to look me in the eye. I stared right back at him. "Lilian. This is my house. If you plan to continue to live here, you are going to follow my rules."

I get up. "Fine."

I stomp to my closet and grab a suitcase.

"I'm not going to follow your fucking rules. So I'm not going to fucking live here."

He stood there for a moment and watched me pack my bag.

"Wherever you're going, make sure you have a way. You're not taking my car." He said, leaving the room.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I screamed at him as he left. I pulled out my phone and called my Aunt Patricia.

She answered on the 2nd ring.

"Patricia, sorry I have been ignoring your calls."

"It's ok dear. I know it's a lot to take in. I'm sorry that I had to be the one to tell you." Patricia answered.

"You have nothing to apologize for. But I have a question to ask you."

"Anything..."

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30 minutes later, I'm putting my things into my Aunt's car, and we're heading to her house.