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Claire looked out my window. “Sophie used to tell us how she would binge and purge through the days, because her parents worked all the time and with five brothers and sisters, the house was always full of food. She couldn’t wait to get back home so she could slide back into her routine. ”

I kept my eyes averted, thinking that maybe if I didn’t look at Claire, she would tell me more. More of the truth.

“Brianne said she’d usually spend her entire evenings on the elliptical. The girls said these things as if that’s what they were good at, what they were proud of. ”

“And what did you say? ” I asked before I could stop myself.

After a long pause, long enough that I didn’t think she was going to answer, Claire said, “I told them I didn’t do much. That I wasn’t that bad. ” She looked out my window, but something had changed. Something had faltered within her. “They told me, ‘Don’t worry, you will be. ’”

The reflection of her tears gleamed in my window. I could see how afraid she was.

“It’s not true, ” I said, but had to swallow my misgivings. My sister had barely been home for a few weeks, and there had already been times I didn’t trust that she wasn’t falling back into it. “Look at you, Claire, you’ve got so much going for you. You’re beautiful and talented, and so smart. You can do anything you want with your life. ” I felt like I was trying to convince myself as much as her.

“You’re probably right, ” she said in a dull tone, and I knew I had it wrong.

All wrong.

* * *

The next day at school, I thought about Claire. Why couldn’t she see the amazing person she was?

In art class, I had an idea: What if I designed my composite around Claire so I could show her how beautiful she is? I could blow up photos of her features, like her eyes in that image with the mascara wand, and set them on just the right angles. She would have to see it then.

I’d put one single word, “Beauty, ” right in the middle with her photos around it.

To make my day even better, Marcus called back. He hadn’t been in school again, but at least he wasn’t avoiding me.

“Hi, Loey, ” he said, sounding as tired as last week. “I’ve thought of another way, ” he said.

“Without quitting school? ” I asked, not allowing my hopes to rise just yet.

Even though we were on the phone, I could sense him shaking his head. “I’m cutting the job to two nights per week. I might be tired on Mondays, but it’ll be bearable. ” Before I had a chance to worry about where he’d make up the difference in money, he explained that, too. “If I can fix up the Camaro, I can get some good money for it. I’ll have to work on it in the afternoons, but at least it’s not graveyard shifts at the supermarket. ”

“That’s great, ” I said. And I meant it, even if I still couldn’t quite picture Marcus as a mechanic.

As I put down the phone, Claire walked through the front door, followed by a cute guy. They both wore matching brown polyester. Claire gave a shy wave in my direction, but didn’t make any effort to introduce her friend. I figured he must be Ray from the gas station.

He was cute. She wasn’t lying about that. But in kind of a nonconformist way, which seemed an odd match for Claire. His dark brown hair was brushed straight down all around, as though he’d gotten out of the shower and left it that way.

Claire told him she was going upstairs to change, and then before I knew it, Ray stood in the doorway all alone.

“You like Seinfeld? ” I asked in his direction. In the late afternoon, comedy reruns were all that seemed to be on.

“Yeah, ” he said, louder than I expected. I gestured my head to the side to invite him over to watch. He sat on the far side of the couch. As Kramer came on, sporting an unusually funny, three-sizes-too-small suit, we both started to laugh. I snorted a little.

I looked at him, “Sorry, ” I said through my laughter. “Sometimes I do that. ”

“You’re as funny as Kramer. ”

“Yeah, well, you should see me when I back-comb my hair. ”

He chuckled again. Claire came down the stairs in an over-size white cotton T-shirt and loose pants—not exactly much of an improvement over the polyester. I felt bad for her. She was probably still so self-conscious. I couldn’t wait to finish my art project so I could show her.

Ray quieted when Claire came in and took a seat across from us, but I continued.

“I don’t know, maybe after high school I should go into acting. Get my own sitcom? ” I laughed.

Ray grinned, then asked, “You’re still in high school? ”

“Yeah, senior year. Could be worse. ”

We talked a bit more, about school, about Marvin’s Gas Station, about college—which Ray had no intention of attending. When pressed, Claire offered a few vague, softly worded answers, but basically it seemed up to me to entertain her date.

When Mom called us for dinner, we assembled around the dining room table. I sat between Mom and Ray, shoveling in bite after bite to give Claire a chance to communicate with him, but she kept her face in her chicken breast, her shoulders hunched forward as though she were ducking for shelter.

“Great dinner, Mrs. Rochester, ” Ray said.

“Thank you, Ray. ” She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “So you work with Claire at the gas station? ” she asked.

He indicated his agreement.

And then it was quiet. Too quiet.

After what felt like a lifetime of silence, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “So if you don’t want to go to college, Ray, what do you want to do? ”

“You don’t want to go to college? ” Mom stiffened, sitting up straighter and looking over at Claire’s down-turned head.

“I want to travel, ” he said, not reacting to any tension. “See the world while I’m young, then I’ll decide if I want a career of some kind. ” He took a bite of his broccoli salad and looked over at me as he chewed. “You seem pretty sure you’re going to college. What’s your big dream job? ” He accentuated the words, as if anything I said would be ridiculous.

With the challenge in his voice, I felt a little unsure about being honest. I wasn’t ready for anyone to smash my dream of being a photographer. “Hmm. I don’t know. I guess whatever it takes to work as a comedienne for NBC. ”

Ray sniffed out a laugh. I caught Claire’s eye, just for a second. The way she squinted at me made me feel like I’d done something wrong.

I immediately thought of Josh. Did she think I was trying to flirt with Ray?

I clamped my mouth shut through the rest of dinner, heading straight to my room after. A part of me felt guilty all over again—about Josh, about Ray, I didn’t know. But then the more I thought about it, the more I realized I hadn’t done anything wrong tonight. I’d only made conversation with Ray because nobody else would.

* * *

Claire stormed into the kitchen the next morning. She glared at me as I poured my cereal. At first I was stunned by her out-of-character actions, but then I thought she must be kidding around. Her steely eyes drilled into me, though. She grabbed a banana and spun to head into the living room. I followed her, trying to come to terms that she was serious.

“Okay, Claire, it’s obvious you’re mad at me. Why, I have no idea, but you’re not hiding it very well. ”

“You have no idea? ” she asked, in the meanest tone I’d ever heard from her. Like sandpaper against a cheese grater. “You really don’t know, Loann? ”

“No, I don’t, unless this is about Josh. ” It nearly made my lungs collapse to even say his name. “Believe me, I wish more than anything else in the world that none of that had happened—”

“This is not about Josh! ”

Was she seriously this angry over last night? “I was just trying to help with the conversation, ” I said. “I would never. . . ” I trailed off, not able to say the words about what Josh and I had done.

“I would’ve talked if you had just shut up, even for a minute! ” she yelled.

Okay, now she was talking crazy. “I could see you were just itching to get a word in edgewise, Claire. ” I shook my head as I turned away to head back to the kitchen.

From behind me, she said, “I just. . . ”

The room became so quiet I could hear the refrigerator’s buzz through the door. Then came her quiet sobbing, and she whispered, “I wish I could be funny or smart, or say something worthwhile. ”

She was jealous. . . of me? I’d never had a guy really like me for me. Aside from Marcus, I’d never really had friends who liked me. Claire seemed to make friends or boyfriends everywhere she went. And yeah, I’d screwed up with Josh. Big-time. But seriously, I was the one who would never be the same, who was afraid to even be touched, and who was still trying to repair my tattered self-esteem.

For someone she thought had so many worthwhile things to say, I couldn’t think of a single one.

I’d spent so much of my life admiring everything about Claire, I didn’t know how to grasp the concept of any of this.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

This was the new rule: Mom would divvy up specific portions for Claire at mealtimes and Claire would eat it all without nitpicking or complaining. Dad made it home more often for dinner, too, which must have also been part of the New Rochester Mealtime Manifesto.

Claire wouldn’t meet my eyes all through dinner. She didn’t talk to Mom or Dad, either. I’d tried all day at school to convince myself that she’d been having a bad day, but her words about Ray and how easily I talked with him, I just couldn’t get them out of my mind. But when I really thought about it, when was the last time I’d seen her acting chatty with anyone other than me? She seemed happy enough heading off to work each day, and I’d assumed she was making friends there, but maybe not. Maybe Ray was her only glimmer of socialization at the moment.

Mom set the timer after dinner—another new rule. Claire had to stay out of the bathroom or leave the door open for at least an hour. She headed for the kitchen with her plate, while I sat and listened to Mom and Dad banter back and forth about the phone bill.

“Oh, save your breath, ” Mom said. “I’ve heard that one before. You work so much harder than the rest of us. Meanwhile our daughter is incapable of getting back to a normal life, because she doesn’t have a father! ”

So maybe Mom had noticed something was still wrong with Claire.

“Doesn’t have a father? ” Dad huffed loudly. “Yes, that’s right. This is all my fault. ” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been home every night this week, and with no appreciation, I might add. I don’t have to take this. ” He stood up, grabbed his overcoat, and headed out the door, letting it slam hard behind him.

I quickly stacked the remaining plates and headed for the kitchen.

Claire ignored me completely, not even taking a plate as I passed it to her to put into the dishwasher. Did she hear our parents fighting about her?

I put the plate on the counter. “I’m worried about you, Claire. ” There, I said it. If Mom and Dad were too consumed to do anything about the fact that Claire came back from the clinic more insecure than when she’d left, I had to say something about it.

“I’m fine, ” she said with raised eyebrows, like it was a challenge.

“You’re not fine, ” I said. “You’re not doing anything to make your life better. You’re not trying to get a better job or seeing your friends, you think I—”

“I’m fine, ” she said again, so loudly it shocked me. She pasted a smile on her face, as if to validate her point.

* * *

At school, I spoke with Marcus about it.

“My sister, I just don’t know how to talk to her. I feel like she spends her whole time at home just hating herself. It’s like the only time she’s happy is when she goes to work at a gas station. ” I knew it was more about Ray than the gas station, but I felt like making a point.

Marcus snickered. “Not exactly the kind of place most girls go for a good time. ”

The more we talked, the more I wanted to see if the old Claire was still around at work, when she didn’t think any of her family could see her. If I was doing something to hurt her self-esteem, I had to find out how to fix that. Besides, I didn’t trust the idea of her having secrets, I wanted her to be happy. Maybe I was prying too much, but I didn’t really care.

“I need to see what’s going on, ” I said to Marcus. “I have a bad feeling about this. ”

I turned to go, ready to tell Marcus I’d see him later, but he was already walking in front of me toward the school doors. I knew I should tell Marcus to stay at school. That he couldn’t afford to miss any more classes. But I was just so glad not to be alone, I didn’t say a word all the way to my house.

As expected, Claire was just leaving. Marcus and I stayed down the street, behind a tree so she wouldn’t see us. “I can’t believe I’m spying on my own sister, ” I whispered.

Claire walked in the opposite direction of our hideout, with her backpack bouncing against her.

Marcus and I held back and stayed at least half a block behind her, but when we got close to downtown, rather than turning for the outskirts, where the gas station was, Claire turned the other way.

“Where is she going? ” I whispered more to myself than to Marcus.

We kept following her until we were in downtown Alder Grove, and she went through the double doors into the brand-new fitness center. There were signs plastered on all the windows about a free two-week trial.

But what about her job? I knew for a fact she was scheduled for Monday through Friday hours. I was sure my parents had no idea, and the last thing I wanted was to have to go back, especially when they were already so stressed, and tell them Claire was hiding stuff again. I had to talk to her myself.

“I’m going in, ” I said to Marcus. “You should head back to school. ” He started to interrupt, but I wouldn’t let him. “If there are two of us, she’ll think we’re ganging up on her. Besides, it’s senior year. No need for both of us to put our grades in jeopardy. ”

Marcus paused, thinking things over. “I’ll stop in at the office and tell them you’re really sick. Whenever you make it in, just make sure you look. . . ” A hint of a smirk crossed his face as he looked me over. “Never mind. You look the part. ”

I reached out to swat him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug.

“Let me know how it goes, ” he murmured into my hair.

I wanted to melt into him. I wanted him to tell me this was a bad idea and drag me back to school. Because really? I had no idea how many secrets Claire was keeping but I had the feeling this was just the first of many.

Before I could resign myself to any of those thoughts, Marcus pulled away and turned me toward the front doors of the fitness center, as though he knew I needed the push.

* * *

I had to speak to two trainers and fill out paperwork galore in order to get my free trial membership. If I were really in the market for a gym, I think the paperwork alone would have turned me off. Since I was skipping school, I lied about my birthdate on the form, pretending I was a very-young-looking eighteen. They didn’t question it, and soon the female trainer described the layout and led me toward the changing rooms.

The gym staff must have assumed my backpack was filled with gym gear and not school textbooks. I dropped the heavy bag in the locker room and stared down at my jeans. Oh well. It’s not like I had any other options.

I hadn’t seen Claire, but I had a pretty good idea of where I’d find her: On an elliptical machine.

I walked into the gym and scanned the cardio area, feeling immediately out of place. Not only was I wearing inappropriate workout gear, but everyone went about their business on their own piece of equipment and seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

There was my sister, among the seasoned gym rats, looking like Malibu Barbie in her matching hoodie, running shoes, and headband. Her loose sweatpants were the only thing that didn’t quite look the part.

Moving along the side wall, I tried to stay invisible. But Claire’s attention wasn’t on me, anyway. Most of the gym patrons were average-looking, but one girl stood out, walking back and forth in a sports bra and short shorts. Her abs were so chiseled, I wondered if they’d been painted on. She didn’t seem to be working out, just strolling back and forth through the gym as if she was offering a fashion show.

Claire’s legs moved in circles faster and faster, seemingly transfixed by the fashion-show girl. Claire’s towel hung over the handrail in front of her, and she kept mopping her face with it. I wondered why she didn’t take off her hoodie if she was so warm.

As I got closer, I could see Claire speeding up her machine. Sweat dripped down her face and she took a long, hard gulp of water.

I’d just reached the back of the empty elliptical machine beside hers when she unzipped her hoodie. She took it off and hung it with her towel.

I nearly tripped over my own feet doing a double-take at her wiry arms. Her elbows jutted out like big, knobby meat-balls on single strings of spaghetti.

I averted my eyes and blinked hard to clear the image. How had she dropped the weight so quickly? And more important, did she think she looked okay?

She hadn’t looked my way yet, so I hopped up and started pedaling my feet.

Claire’s eyes remained on the model-like girl in front of us as she ran harder and harder. I couldn’t help remembering what Claire had said about the girls in San Diego trying to outdo each other.

How could I talk to her? What could I possibly say that could make a difference?

“I. . . why are you doing this, Claire? ”

Claire’s eyes bulged, startled, and she quickly looked down at her hoodie, then away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. ” But I could hear in her voice—she did know. “The fitness center’s pretty nice, huh? A good way to stay healthy, ” she added, her voice too light. “I’m going to see if Mom and Dad will get me a year membership while they’re on sale. ” She looked over at me for the first time, a pleading in her eyes—Please just let this go. “You should ask for one too, ” she said. “We could come together! ”

A tug-of-war started in my gut. My whole life I’d wanted to be included in my sister’s life. To be wanted by her and feel important. But I knew that doing this, agreeing to this, would be helping her cover up her problem.

And she had a problem. Even if she tried to deny it, I couldn’t.

Claire didn’t look away, her face pale and streaked with sweat. She really shouldn’t be working out so hard. I glanced down just in time to see her foot slide off the pedal. She tripped, nearly falling sideways off the machine.

I was still moving at a snail’s pace, so I jumped off and caught her arm before she fell, but she came toppling onto me. We both fell down and one of my pedals dug into my back.

My elbow burned. I must have scraped it on something, too. “What are you doing? ” I snapped at her. “You’re obviously in no condition to do this! ” It took Claire what seemed like forever to maneuver herself off of me and into a standing position.

It took even longer to calm my breathing.

“Whew, that was embarrassing, ” Claire said, looking around. And then she actually giggled. “I’m glad you caught me, Loey. ”

Rage boiled within me. “You can’t do this! ” I spit out, trying to untangle myself from the machine as she looked down at me, obviously too weak to give me a hand up. “Why are you doing this, Claire? What do you want, to kill yourself? ” I was so angry at her, so scared for what she was becoming, I couldn’t hold back. “Don’t be so friggin’ selfish! ”

I knew she could come up with a thousand rebuttals. It was an accident, Loey. People make mistakes. Sheesh, you’ve made enough stupid mistakes.

But she didn’t say any of those things. She simply said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Loann. ”

I stomped back to the locker room, tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t know why. I wasn’t sad. I was angry. So angry.

What was wrong with her?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

After the last bell, Marcus and I walked to a small garage under Armando’s apartment, where Marcus had been working on fixing up the used Camaro. I was supposed to relieve Armando at the café, but I’d been a wreck all afternoon. I had been too emotional to talk in the hallway at school. Part of me needed to talk about Claire, but part of me just couldn’t.

“I’m thinking of applying to Kettleton in Chicago. You’d come visit me, right? ” I didn’t expect an answer. I figured he probably couldn’t even hear me from where he was working under his car. “Claire’s really messed up, and all I want to do is escape from it all. I can’t get through to her, and I just wish I wasn’t even here. ”

Sitting and watching Marcus’s feet wiggle as he maneuvered himself into different positions gave me something to focus on. “I don’t know what she wants to hear or what’ll make any difference. I mean, I tell her how beautiful and talented she is, how much she could do with her life, but she just doesn’t get it. ” I ran my foot around an oil spot on the floor.

Every so often Marcus asked me to pass him some kind of tool, which I spent far more time trying to locate than if he’d just come out and gotten it himself. An hour later, I was all talked out about Claire, and apparently Marcus had finished changing the U-joints, whatever that meant.

After sliding out from under the car, he said, “We can’t always be what other people need us to be. ” I knew he was talking about Claire. And maybe even his mom. “You can sit around and blame yourself about it. . . ” He finished putting his tools away, and then met my eyes. “Or you can get on with it. ”

Get on with what? But somewhere inside I knew what he meant. I obviously had to tell my parents. I just really didn’t feel like I had the strength to oppose Claire. She was so good at lying now.

“Will you come home with me? I. . . ” I didn’t know how else to say it. “I need you, Marcus. ”

I felt bad for Armando, but I just couldn’t go to the café today. I had to talk to Mom about this. And I probably needed to do it in front of Claire.

Marcus grabbed my hand. “Let’s go. ”

* * *

The house was empty when we got there. It shouldn’t have surprised me, I suppose. As if Claire would just wait around for me to come home and yell at her some more.

We headed upstairs for the computer room, but kept the door open in case anyone came home. I took the side seat, leaving the one in front of the computer for Marcus.

“You want to help me find a free graphics program I can use to work on some of my pictures? ” My heart wasn’t in it today, but it was a good distraction and I’d wanted Marcus’s help with this for a while. He just hadn’t had time.

We didn’t have any photo software on our computer, so Marcus maximized the browser and typed something into the address bar. His hands, as usual, flew over the keys at the speed of light and I watched in amazement.

“Oops, ” he said. “That’s the problem with typing so fast. Too many mistakes. ” He hit the back key several times, but our old computer took its sweet time catching up. “Hmm, one too far, ” he said, going for the forward button.

“Wait. Stop, ” I said.

A picture of a pretty girl with a long, narrow face came up on the screen. It must have been one of Claire’s new cyber-friends’ websites. A star flashed right in the middle.

I knew we should just click out, but I reached past Marcus for the mouse and clicked on the star.

“Come to my party! ” appeared at the top of the page with a sidebar at the left. I glanced over the contents: Favorite Foods, Tips and Tricks, E-mail Me, Shana’s Blog, and then that star again. I swallowed and clicked it.

The pretty girl appeared in a full head-to-toe shot. She wore thigh-high boots and a miniskirt, and couldn’t have weighed even ninety pounds. Her ribs showed through her fitted T-shirt and her boots left large gaps around her thighs. I read the words beside her gaunt frame. “Come to my binge party in Columbus, Ohio! ”

The next paragraph went on to say in big, bold letters: BYOF. And then: “But don’t worry, there’ll be lots here. All my favorites, ” which had a link. “Three bathrooms on-site. Take your turn. A party you won’t want to miss. E-mail for directions. ”

“Oh my God, ” Marcus said. “What is this? ”

But I could barely hear him. I clicked through all the side tabs, mostly more information about the party, until I got to the Tips and Tricks page. It was a list of bullet points. The first one said:

People will want to believe you are eating right. It’s easier than you think!

I stared over the list of highest calorie-burning exercises and lowest-carb foods. At the bottom of the page there were tips on puking. I could not believe my eyes.

You don’t need a toilet or even a garbage can. If you practice, a Coke can will be enough.

How many times had Mom told Claire to lay off the diet soda lately? I pushed the mouse up to the right corner, but missed the X because my hand was shaking so badly. On my second try, I hit it, and then stared at the empty desktop. I sat there in stunned disbelief.

Marcus put his hand over mine, but thankfully he didn’t say a word. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t answer questions about this sick life of my sister’s.

I shook my head. “I’ve been trying to talk to her. The clinic only made her worse! ” I was practically choking on my words. “I don’t know what to do. What can I possibly do? ”

I felt like I was going to be sick, and ran to my and Claire’s shared bathroom. Bending over the toilet, I couldn’t even dry-heave. It took about twenty deep breaths to calm myself down enough to stand up. As I went back to see Marcus, I heard Mom and Claire downstairs.

“I’ve saved a little money, ” Claire was saying, “and I was thinking of going to visit a friend in Ohio. ”

“I don’t know, honey. You’ve been away a lot this year. ” I could tell Mom was distracted.

I walked over to the top of the stairs and watched them. They were still near the front closet, and hadn’t seen me yet.

“Yeah, but that was for, well, you know. I just want to have a fun trip, Mom. ” She smiled, and then even laughed a little. Laughed.

How could I care so much when Claire didn’t even care? I didn’t know her anymore. Didn’t know that smile, didn’t know what tomorrow would bring from my so-called predictable sister. I missed that. Even when she was popular in school, I understood her. And growing up, she’d always been on my side. Now she was just on her own side.

I turned to head for my room, but Marcus stood right behind me, like a big blockade to my sanity. He motioned his head down the stairs. Did he really not see how good of a liar my sister was? Did he honestly think I could say or do anything that would make a difference?

“Fine, ” I said, and Claire and Mom both looked up, realizing I was there. I marched down the stairs. “Do you know what’s in Ohio? ” I asked Mom, but looked at Claire.

Claire looked past me to the computer room, where the light was still on. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Loann. Keeping me here won’t help. ”

“What will help, then, Claire, huh? ” I’d never spoken to my sister this way. I took a step back as if I’d even scared myself, but bumped into Marcus, who was behind me again. Neither Claire nor Mom had even looked in his direction.

Mom glanced between Claire and me. “What’s going on? What about this trip, Claire? ”

“It’s nothing! ” she screamed so loudly that Mom’s eyes widened. And then, as if the words had taken everything out of Claire, she doubled over.

“Well then I’m sure it can’t be that big of a deal whether you go or not, ” Mom said in her usual patronizing tone.