Sophie
53kg and falling

I picked up signals. He wouldn't let me use his phone. He told me every time I asked, 'I don't remember where I was last night, honey'. Out with friends. Out drinking. Out somewhere else.
He didn't feel like having sex every night for a whole week, even though he virtually raped me on our first date. When we did finally have grudging weekend sex I felt like a piece of gym equipment, him doing three reps of ten on me before releasing on me in a heavy grunt. On my back, on my face, sometimes slapping his large and fulfilling penis against me to clean it off. What I once thought was playful sexuality had become a torment, I felt one notch of the little bit of self esteem I had diminish after each slap slap of his dick against my face. He once used my sweater to wipe up, which I felt was worse than using my skin, using me, so I now threw my clothes far out of reach before becoming his… equipment.
Most nights, as soon as his workout on me was complete, he would roll over and fall asleep before I could wrap my arms around his muscular chest, the only place I felt at safe any more, which was ironic, I know.
I didn't want to be like one of those girls, one of those nagging wives who weren't even married. I didn't want to question every movement and every whispered phone-call and text message in the bathroom that he thought I didn't know about. I loved that he was a real man, a rock to climb on or hide behind.
I just wanted to know who she was, what she did that I did not do. Did she swallow? Did she have bigger boobs? I just wanted to know if she was prettier than me, if she was thinner than me. Every time he went to pee, which was often now because he had increased his protein powder intake to achieve his new gym goal, I wanted to pick up his phone and I instantly hated myself because I didn't want to be that spying woman. I hated him because when I did roll over to his side of the bed to flip through his messages his phone was gone, taken into the bathroom where the loud grunts announcing his bodily functions would now be ribboned with his messages.
We lay in bed after watching sports on TV and having bad sex, Luke on his back with his eyes closed and me on my side, clinging to him. I needed someone like him, someone strong. Being alone, being left to my own thoughts, terrified me more than he did.
I could change him. I knew I could be the one to tame him.
"Are you seeing someone else, Luke?" I asked, if only to hear how he would deny it, to hear his rehearsed cover story forced through pursed lips. I felt his chest rise and fall faster, the tattoo on his chest expanding and contracting was all the evidence I needed of the tension inside him.
"What? No. I'm just tired."
"Because if you are I'd rather know." I pushed myself up into his muscular warmth, feeling him tense up as I pulled tightly on his neck.
"I know. And I'm fine. We're fine. I just need sleep."
"I really need to talk about this now." I stroked the back of his neck and he shrugged me off.
"Can't it wait 'til morning? Jesus Christ."
"Why are you avoiding me all the time?" I put my hand on his face, trying to turn his head so that we could look each other in the eye. He effortlessly removed my weak grip and pulled my arm away.
"I'm not avoiding you, I just need some fucking sleep, if that's okay with you."
"What is wrong, Luke? Something's wrong."
"Oh for fuck sakes, I'm not doing this now. Go to sleep or get the fuck out."
I got up out of bed and went to brush my teeth, running both the taps to mask the sound of my crying. I couldn't let him know that he got to me. I thought I might be falling in love with him and that scared me, because being in love shouldn't be a one way street. A one way street and a dead end.

We woke early and sat staring at our plates, avoiding anything that would set us off. We ate the breakfast I made in silence before he told me he was going to gym, leaving half the blueberry pancake I had made for him.
"This is disgusting," he said, pushing the plate away.
"Sorry," I said, but didn't mean it. This was a pretty good blueberry pancake.
"I don't eat fucking carbs," was the last thing he said before he downed his protein shake and left, pausing to perch his sunglasses on top of his head where his hair curved up in a moussed widow's peak. I threw my pancake in the bin unfinished.

After Psych 101 I walked to the cafeteria building to get a coffee, double espresso, something to wake me up from the daze I was in lately. I had learned more in the last few months at college than my entire life at school, and I wondered why they never taught Psych in school, it seemed like such a useful subject.
"Hi Soph."
Oh no, this guy again, the chubby artist who thought he was entitled to my attention just because he was interested. His island shirt had so many colors that it stood out in neon contrast against the black and blue clothes of every other normal student.
"Hi. How's it going?" I said, not really wanting to start a conversation, but not wanting to trigger some psychosis in him, if that was what he was about.
"You've been losing more weight," he said, looking me up and down.
"Thanks." I didn't like the way he always looked at my body, judging me. Why was he always telling me about my weight? I knew I was temporarily overweight, it was fine, I was working on it. I continued walking, hoping he would go away.
"No, I mean, a lot. Never mind. I think you've been hanging out with the wrong people."
He obviously meant Ana and Mia.
He walked with me, almost bumping in to other people because he was staring at me and not where he was going. Now, after the fight with Luke this morning, he creeped me out.
"Okay," I proceeded cautiously.
"It's just that they have a reputation for, you know."
I stopped walking.
"No, I don't actually, what are you talking about?" I turned and faced him.
He looked around, touching his face like he was trying to find words inside.
"They, you know, take things very seriously. With their weight. I was in school with..."
"Okay, so?"
"So I'm worried that you will be sucked in to their world with them."
"Firstly, what's your name again?"
"Max. I gave you my card."
"Max, if I needed your help I would have told you. Can you leave me alone please?" I had exploded, in a quiet sort of way, and it felt better to get it off my chest. I didn't want his attention, not now.
"Alright. Fine. But you need to see what's happening to you. I'll show you. I'm going to stop eating so that you can see what you're doing to yourself. You're beautiful, Sophie, you don't need to change anything."
This was too personal, him in my space, trying to get in my head and in my pants. I really needed to end this. I stopped and turned to him, getting his full attention. "Okay, Max, listen to me, I have a boyfriend, okay? So kindly fuck off!" My voice echoed through the buildings, students turned to me and laughed and that made it worse. Max broke eye contact and walked away without responding. I hated what I had just done, but I couldn't have this, not now.

I felt more than heard Sue walking behind me, shuffling her feet. I didn't want to deal with her right then, my thoughts too scattered to play sympathetic sister. The previous night at Luke's apartment had been rougher than usual, more real and close to the edge, but I had quenched his fire, if I could just keep dousing the flames of his savage breast I knew he would calm down, become the man I needed him to be. For us.
I had covered the bruise on my neck with two layers of base and a scarf my mother had knitted for my birthday a few years back. We had argued about it being made of wool because at the time I was in a vegan phase – and it had ended up in the back of a drawer. Now I needed the hug of warm wool around me. Luke's play was getting intense and that scared me. We played hard together, sometimes crossing boundaries I never knew I had until I felt them break against the game. I liked the roughness, the dizziness, but it was closer to the edge than it had ever been, so close that I had to fight to make him stop. Still, I didn't think he would genuinely hurt me. He was not like the other guys, I just needed to keep chipping away at him.
I ignored Sue walking on my heels and as she turned away I noticed she was also wearing Ana's black bracelet. It was strange because I knew that she hated anything around her wrists or touching her neck. She looked straight at me and went off to whatever sad place she usually haunted, probably the coffee shop on Roper street, she always spoke about the espresso there. I swear I saw a fiery rage in her eyes, and I probably deserved it, but she'd be okay on her own for a while.