What If... All Your Friends Turned On You (12 page)

If you think that after spending the holidays surrounded by cakes, cookies and holiday meals (even tofu is fattening if you put sesame sauce on it), Haley will feel better if she goes on a health kick, turn to,
STICK WITH THE SISTERHOOD
. If you think Haley figures it's winter so who cares anyway, make her keep up her Golden Dynasty habits,
AMERICAN GOTH
. To have Haley continue her normal, mostly healthy habits because you think she looks great the way she is, even with a little winter padding to keep her warm, turn,
COLLEGE BOUND
. Finally, if you think Haley Miller doesn't have body image issues but the other girls at her school do, listen to
PRINCIPAL CRUM'S LITANY
.

The weight issue is practically a rite of passage for teenaged girls. How Haley handles it could affect everything from her social life to her health, so don't take her down the wrong path, or she could lose more than weight—namely, everything she holds dear
.

H
aley slowly peeled a single segment from the orange on her lap. She put it into her mouth and savored it, letting the fruit dissolve, noting every nuance of the flavor. It was a pleasant sensation at first, but then her stomach seized on the first drop of juice, snarling and growling and practically tearing itself apart. This was the part that didn't feel great, but then, beauty was worth a little pain, right?

Haley had decided to go all out and follow the Coco Cleanse to the letter, in the hopes that a new
year and a newly svelte her would punish Reese Highland for his flirtatious hijinks with a swimsuit model in Nevis. For the first few days, Coco had instructed her to consume only hot water and lemon juice. Now they were on to green tea and oranges. And so far she was doing great, if not quite feeling that way. Haley had made it through five days and had shed almost as many pounds. Her goal of ten pounds in ten days was now within sight. And she'd also been able to break herself of her early habit of drinking gallons of water to mask her hunger. “That only adds water weight,” Coco had said disapprovingly.

At school, it was easy to do the cleanse. Nobody watched what Haley ate for lunch, and she had Coco, Sasha, Whitney and Cecily for support. They were all doing the cleanse too, and the fad quickly spread to other girls in their class.

At home it was trickier. Her parents expected her to eat dinner, but even brown rice and vegetables were too fattening for Coco's extreme regimen. So Haley usually just told Joan and Perry she was eating at Coco's house—Coco's parents were hardly ever around, and they never had any inkling what their daughter was up to. If she didn't go to Coco's, she stayed late at the library and came home after dinner hour, telling her mother she'd already eaten.

All her tactics seemed to be working. The only hard part was continuing not to eat. She had gradually
gotten used to the acid buildup—with nothing to digest, her stomach was trying to eat itself—and the intense cravings for simple carbs like plain pasta or milk to coat her rumbling stomach. But she held firm, and was often so light-headed from lack of protein she barely even noticed the pain in her abdomen between “meals.” The dizziness was slightly alarming, but her cheekbones had grown so prominent Haley hardly even cared. Besides, Coco and the other girls kept cheering her on. It was kind of like a contest—who can eat the least? Who's the most virtuous dieter?—and Haley wasn't about to lose.

That was before she had to go through an hour-long gym class. Haley had found herself too tired to finish ten sit-ups. That wasn't like her at all—usually she could do fifty easily—and the gym teacher of course took notice. “Aren't you feeling well, Haley?” Ms. Wissman asked, staring at the dark circles under Haley's eyes and the sallow look of her skin. “Maybe you should sit today out.”

“Thanks,” Haley said. She'd wanted to do more sit-ups—nothing better for toning the abs—but it felt good to sit on the bleachers and rest for a minute. The other girls stared at her enviously, wishing they could get out of gym too.
I bet they wish they had as much self-control as I have
, Haley thought.
I bet they wish they could live on oranges and tea and get super skinny
. But then she started feeling dizzy again and had to lie down on the bleacher bench.

By her afternoon history class, she could barely concentrate; all she wanted to do was rest her head on her desk. When someone said something to her, she was slow to respond. And Shaun Willkommen asked her if she'd turned into an alien because her skin looked so green. Finally her history teacher, Mr. Tygert, sent her to the nurse's office. The dreaded Ms. Underhill—Haley had been hoping to avoid her, but now she had no choice.

“What seems to be the trouble?” stocky Ms. Under hill asked, taking Haley's vital signs.

“Nothing,” Haley insisted. “I'm just a little tired, that's all.”

“You look exhausted,” the nurse said, shifting her considerable weight from one foot to the other. She examined Haley with an expression of concern. “And if I'm not mistaken, you are seriously dehydrated, my dear. How did you get yourself in this terrible shape? You need to be put on IV fluids immediately. Here, let's get you onto a gurney.”

“I'll just drink a little water,” Haley said, trying to stand up. Her knees buckled and when she came to, her head ached, she felt nauseated and there was a strange, wet, metallic taste in her mouth: blood.

“Haley? Haley? Are you all right?” Nurse Underhill was saying.

“What happened?”

“You tried to get up and walk out of here, and you passed out and smacked your face on the edge of
the gurney. Here, let me get a bandage on that cheek. You're going to have one massive shiner there, young lady. And I'll be surprised if that cut doesn't leave a scar.”

Ms. Underhill helped Haley up to the bed in her office. “Now, let's get some fluids into you, or you're going to end up in the hospital.” She loaded up an IV and jabbed it into Haley's arm. Then she checked her computer for Haley's “in case of emergency” contacts. “Is your mother at work today? If she can't come right away, I may have to call an ambulance. Dehydration is extremely serious. You could damage your kidneys, have liver failure or heart trouble….”

“Please don't call my mother,” Haley begged.

“What, you think I can just let you leave with a bag of fluids hooked up to your arm?” Nurse Underhill replied.

“Nurse Underhill, do IV fluids have calories?” Haley asked. “Coco is going to be so pissed.”

Ms. Underhill's tough face hardened. “Haley Miller, don't tell me you're on this so-called diet cleanse? I thought you were smarter than that!”

Haley hung her head.

“That diet is running rampant through this school,” Ms. Underhill said. “You're the third girl I've seen this week with eating problems. It's growing to epidemic proportions.” She dialed Haley's mother's work number. “Mrs. Miller? This is Nurse Underhill
at Hillsdale High. No, I'm afraid everything is not okay. I've got Haley here and she's seriously dehydrated. Yes, I don't think she's had anything to eat in several days. No, she's put herself on a cleanse diet, and she almost put herself in the emergency room. No, of course, I'll make sure she stays right here until you arrive.”

Haley felt herself losing consciousness again. She shut her eyes and wished she could go back in time five days and change everything. She hurt all over, but what hurt the most was knowing she'd brought all this pain on herself—and the thought of what her parents would say when they got ahold of her.

Who would have thought five days of starving yourself could cause so much damage? Your foolish choices have brought on dire consequences for Haley. Not only will she not end up model-thin, but now her face is disfigured, maybe permanently. Hang your head and go back to page 1
.

DEAD END

“I
rene, I know you think there's still a chance for me and Devon,” Haley said, plopping down on her bed, “but did you see the way they were all over each other in the parking lot today? I can only imagine what they're doing right now in the Floods. Ew.”

Irene and Haley were hanging out in Haley's bedroom, trying to figure out what to do about the D-Squared problem, as they now called it. It seemed that no matter what Haley did to try to lure Devon
away from his freshman siren, she only seemed to push him further into Darcy's clutches.

“That's wack and you know it,” Irene said. “You're the one Dev has so much in common with. You're the one he wants to be with. He just hasn't figured it out yet. He only likes that little twit because she's hot—albeit in a trashtastic sort of way—and it doesn't take much for her to lift her skirt.”

“Exactly,” Haley said. “How am I supposed to get his attention when she's always on her back?”

“You've got to take one for the team here, Haley,” Irene persisted. “It's getting to the point where Shaun and I can't be friends with Devon anymore unless he ditches Darcy. You're our only hope. You've got to do something to catch his attention—and keep it away from her—or …”

“Or what?” Haley demanded.

“Well, maybe we'll get to the point where we can't be friends with you either,” Irene huffed.

What's that supposed to mean?
Haley wondered, glaring at her friend. She was beginning to tire of Irene always blaming her for Devon's taste in women. “Look, I've tried practically everything. The movie was a complete disaster. He doesn't seem to care that Darcy is a total moron.” Haley tried on a pair of jeans and frowned at herself in the mirror on the back of her closet door. “Wow, my jeans are getting really tight.”

“So?” Irene said. “Aren't they supposed to be tight?”

“Not this tight,” Haley said, struggling with the top snap. “I've gained about five pounds since Christmas. One too many Golden Dynasty egg rolls, I guess.”

She studied herself in the mirror, not sure what to think of her newly plump figure. Maybe her jeans didn't fit, but she was curvier, which was good, right?

“You look fantastic,” Irene said. “Better than ever. Healthier. I've always thought you were a touch on the skinny side.”

“Um, easy for you to say that,” Haley said. Irene was fine-boned and slender, not the least bit heavy.

“You know what? Forget jeans,” Irene said, a sudden twinkle in her eye. “Jeans are dullsville. Everybody wears jeans. What you need is a brand-new look, something totally wild.” She got up and went to the closet. “In fact, that could be the answer to our problem.”

“What are you talking about?” Haley said.

Irene opened the closet and started pawing through Haley's clothes. “A way to get Devon's attention.” She pulled out a fluffy pink cardigan with a Mrs. Claus stitched across the breast. Irene pinched the sweater between her fingers at arm's length, half frightened, half disgusted. “What the elf? Haley, tell me this is supposed to be ironic.”

Haley sighed. The sweater was one of Gam Polly's knitted abominations. Every Christmas up until just
last year, Haley's grandmother had given her and Mitchell something she'd knitted herself, and it was usually unwearable. “I wish,” Haley said. “I have Gam Polly to thank for that.”

“I can't get over some of this stuff. Penny loafers? Khakis? What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know,” Haley said. “I used to give my mom too much power over my wardrobe.”

“Hello … what's this?” Irene pulled out Haley's old gray plaid Montessori school kilt. In California, before moving east to New Jersey, Haley had gone to a Montessori school and worn a uniform. She was surprised to find it was still in her closet. She had thought she'd never wear it again, and good riddance.

“This is perfect,” Irene said. “Do you have any scissors?”

Haley grabbed some scissors off her desk and gave them to Irene, who started hacking at the plaid skirt's hemline until it was ragged and enticingly short. “Here,” Irene said, tossing Haley a plastic shopping bag she'd brought over from the drugstore. “Look through there and pick out some makeup.”

The bag was full of cosmetics, from burgundy lipstick to heavy black eyeliner to green hair dye. Everything a girl needed for a punk rock makeover.

Irene tossed the freshly cropped skirt and a Clash T-shirt at her. “There's your new uniform. Now let's
hit the bathroom. I'll show you the way to make Devon McKnight melt.”

Two hours later, Haley stepped into her room with a green streak in her messed-up auburn hair and a new punk-glam look. The chopped-off kilt stopped mid-thigh, well above her combat boots. The rip in her Clash T-shirt was held together with two large safety pins. Her eyes were practically blackened with eyeliner, her lips stained a ghoulish purple. She ran to the full-length mirror.