Maura had spent the entire night with nothing but her stuffed tortoise and the voices in her head to keep her company. She thought about Jane and the conversation they had the night before. Her Jane loved her and, although she didn't doubt Jane's love, Maura couldn't understand how Jane could love her. Jane, the girl who made beauty seem effortless, loved her and wanted to be with her. It wasn't out of pity or on a dare; her Jane actually loved her.

Maura knew she could eventually love Jane, but it was almost impossible to imagine what it must feel like to love another person when she couldn't love herself and she had no intentions of loving herself, at least not yet. There was still another five, ten, or fifteen pounds left to lose before she could love herself. If she didn't like the way she looked when she had reached her goal weight, there'd always be another five pounds to lose.

Her parents had taught her not to be second best and she told herself that she was simply taking their advice—or a misconstrued version of it. Be perfect, Maura. Be the best at whatever you do. And she was the best at what she was doing. She thought about Jenny and Dana—the Trinity, her sisters in anorexia. They had gone down one size at best or at least Jenny had. Dana seemed to remain stagnant and Maura imagined her stuffing her face with sweets when no one was looking. She's such a failure. Maura smiled for the first time that morning as she thought about usurping the queen bee. We don't need her. She'll only hold us back. Jenny shows promise. No, I don't need her either. Jenny is about to crack. She'll crack and try to ruin my plan. I don't need anybody.

The clock on the wall read 12:15. An hour had passed since the nutritionist left and Jane was due to arrive any minute—Jane and her parents, but she mostly cared about seeing Jane. Jane wouldn't lecture her or suggest putting her away in a treatment center. Maura knew that was the next step. She was a problem and her parents preferred to hide their problems. They'd pay for a top-notch treatment center in some beautiful location and tell their friends that Maura was participating in a study abroad program to save face. She'd come home at her original weight or maybe weighing a little more and nobody would be suspicious and, because Maura never socialized at her family's parties, nobody would ask her any questions.

They'll send me away, she realized. They'll send me away—maybe to another state—and I'll go weeks or months without seeing the only person who cares about me. She'll get another girlfriend when I'm gone, one who feels beautiful and eats whatever she wants without gaining an ounce.

The nutritionist had told her she needed to eat around a thousand calories a day because anything less would put her body into starvation mode. Starvation mode. Maura laughed at the term. Starvation mode meant her body would hold onto what little calories she consumed and she'd have a more difficult time losing weight. It was nothing she hadn't heard before and she felt as if she could be the exception to the rule. She ate less than a thousand calories in an entire week and she had managed to lose weight; ten pounds in two weeks, she bragged to her nutritionist.

The more she was left alone with her thoughts, the more her situation no longer phased her. The tear in her esophagus no longer hurt as much as it had the night before and Maura came to the conclusion it would heal as long as there was no more induced vomiting. If there was nothing in her system, there'd be nothing to throw up and she'd be healing. How could they say she didn't care about her health? She cared enough not to fill her body with the junk that most people ate on a daily basis. She cared enough to drink more than the suggested amount of water. But she was dying and she knew it.

Her eating disorder was about more than beauty; it was about self-loathing and the lowest point of her life. Anorexia was suicide and it dawned on Maura how much she must hate herself if she was willing to commit the slowest and most painful form of suicide she knew of. I'm better than the voices. I'm better than the voices.

On the table next to her bed was a low-calorie fruit smoothie that had been prepared for her in lieu of solid foods. She was told she couldn't have solids yet due to the tear in her esophagus, but Maura knew the real reason they had given her a smoothie was because it was a way for her to get nutrients without actually having to eat anything. If she had to chew, she'd become more aware of the calories she was consuming as opposed to drinking her caloric intake.

The nutritionist listed the ingredients in the smoothie and all of the contents in that eight-ounce glass amounted to slightly over one hundred calories. She didn't look at the glass as the nutritionist talked to her, but now she realized her life depended on it. Drinking that smoothie would be a small step, but it'd be a step away from dying and a step toward living again.

She figured a single sip would amount to no more than five calories, so Maura took her first sip without any hesitation. The smoothie was nothing more than a banana and skim milk blended with ice, but Maura devoured it as if it were her favorite meal. With each sip, she counted the calories; five became twenty, twenty became thirty, until she found herself no longer counting. She had finished three-quarters of the glass and the caloric intake could no longer compare to how good her body was feeling. At that moment, it was strictly mind over matter. She knew a single smoothie wasn't going to make up for weeks of skipped meals but, for once, the voices in hear head had stopped and the mental clarity alone was already helping her body.

"Maura?"

Maura looked toward the doorway to find her girlfriend smiling at her. "You're here!" She had wanted Jane to approach her, but Jane remained motionless in the doorway. "It's okay, Jane. I can put the glass down."

Jane was still flabbergasted. "You're drinking something that isn't water? I know I'm not supposed to point that out, but you're drinking something that isn't water."

"You can point it out," Maura smiled. She put the glass down on the table and motioned for Jane to join her.

"But the article said not to."

"The article?"

"Your parents and I were reading some articles that your doctor gave us," Jane informed her. "We want to have a better understanding of what's going on with you."

Maura made her way over to Jane and wrapped her arms around her. She had expected Jane to hug her, but in that moment a hug would not suffice. Her Jane lifted her up and neither of them could stop smiling. "My Jane."

"My girl. I'm so proud of you."

"It's just a smoothie." But Maura knew it was more than just a smoothie, more than just those hundred calories and they both hoped that smoothie would eventually lead to her first full meal. "Will you hold me?"

As far as Jane was concerned, she never wanted to let go of her. Even on the way to the bed, Jane held tight to Maura and cradled her instead of lying her down. Her girlfriend was smiling and Jane wanted to look at her for as long as she could. "How is your throat?"

"Better."

"I'm glad you feel better right now, but not everything has to feel better right away. This is going to take time and that's perfectly okay," Jane said as she watched her girlfriend's expression change. "You're going to have your good days and your bad days and whether you eat three meals a day or you relapse, I'm still going to be here and I'm still going to love you even if you need to push me away for awhile."

Love. It was the word Maura still couldn't bring herself to say, so she hoped a kiss would make up for it. Maura's lips were chapped—yet another symptom of her illness—but Jane continued to kiss her regardless of how rough her lips were.

"Your lips taste like a banana split," Jane commented after Maura had pulled away. "I think this is my new favorite flavor of Maura kisses."

Her comment elicited another smile from Maura and it warmed Jane's heart to see her girlfriend smile so much. "I need to lie down, but you can keep kissing me if you want to."

Jane was only able to stay for another hour before Maura's doctor needed to speak to Maura and her parents, but it was long enough for Maura's spirits to be lifted. She drank a second smoothie that night and, although she had only consumed two hundred calories that day, it was enough to stop the voices for a few hours.