Page 78 of Pieces of Us

‘Yeah…but you’ve never spoken about this before in the media. You made sure your lawyers made airtight non-disclosure agreements…and to be honest, I don’t even know what to ask you.’ Seeing Jas confess she doesn’t know how to handle something is alarming.

‘Sweetheart. There is no one else I would trust over you. We’ll make sure your teacher signs a non-disclosure as well, and if and when I’m ready to go public with this, I’ll just have you handle it. It could be your way into the industry.’

What the fuck? My mind jumps to the worst conclusions.

‘I would never use you that way or want to expose this. You’re my sister, Amity, no matter what whore Lincoln brings home.’

Gee, thanks sis. Way to remind the one I love that I betrayed her and brought her enemy into our home.

‘Thanks, Jas.’ She squeezes her hand, keeping them linked. ‘I want to get this off my chest first. Maybe I need to do this so I can filter what I need to say to Linc. It’ll be like a practice run.’

My body is suddenly glued to the wall—no, it isn’t just stuck to the wall, it’s magnetised, like that Gavitron ride at the carnival. I know that it’s fucking wrong to be an eavesdropping peeping tom, but I don’t want her watered down version of whatever she has to tell me. I wanted the gritty and raw account.

‘Tell me if you need to stop at any time, yeah?’ Jas has a wary expression on her face.

‘I will.’

‘Jesus. I thought when I mentioned there would be an expose element on top of all the normal questions on your success, that you’d, I don’t know, talk about fucking Jag or something,’ she bursts, still unbelieving. Amity smirks at her.

She admonishes her with a look. ‘You should know I never confirm or deny rumours, missy,’ she tutts, lightening the mood a fraction.

‘We will circle back around to this off the record, though?’

‘I don’t kiss and tell. Now let’s get into the swamp of heaviness.’ Pushing her along, they both settle back into the pillows.

‘Can you tell me when it started?’ Jas’ soft-spoken words worry me.

For God’s sake, when what started? I am about to barge in there and get the answers myself. With a hammering heart, I lean my ear up to the wall to get a better listen.

‘I was young enough to still be playing with Barbie dolls, so maybe eight? I remember looking at them and wondering why I couldn't be that perfect and thin. I was too young to realise the extent of my thoughts, but they’d crop up when I saw Lily or…well, you know who, and how petite they were. I was short, but I was stumpy and lumpy. It didn’t help that Mum was lithe and gorgeous, either. I felt like an ugly duckling. That’s when I began to wear baggier clothes. Everyone just assumed I was a tomboy, but I was hiding my growing figure.’

Sliding down the wall, I strap myself in for the trip down memory lane, which I know could end in a fiery crash and burn scenario.

‘Then what?’

‘You should ask me a more specific question. Try again,’ Amity coaxes, switching into mentor mode.

Thoughtfully, Jas tries again.

‘That must have been difficult, especially with no female role model around and your body changing.’

‘It was. As much as I love my mum, she couldn’t relate, and every time I tried to approach her, she’d tell me everyone goes through this phase. The invading thoughts stuck with me over the years but didn’t overtake me until I hit puberty when I was twelve. At that point, I was embarrassingly crushing on your god of a brother, hard.’ She rolls her eyes, as if that was an inconvenience for her, which makes me smile. Little does she know, I was infatuated with her too. ‘There was a particularly mortifying experience when Lily convinced me to wear something a little tighter and more revealing to a party. My stomach was showing, and I was wearing white bottoms. Of course, your brother hugged my waist, and I remember cringing. He probably thought it was at his touch, but it was absolutely not. It was because I felt like he was feeling my rolls. Not long after, my first period decided to start, and well, that ruined the rest of the party. Billie feigned illness at seeing the blood, and I remember your brother going after her or helping her.’ Uh. No. She basically thrust her into my arms. ‘Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, I remember looking at them through a window and seeing how much sense they made. How they were the perfect fit. He could easily manipulate her body, and she slotted right into his arms. She was the perfect ballerina.’

‘What made you think she had the ideal body as opposed to you?’

‘It was at the height of Paris Hilton being the hottest star on the planet, along with the rise of the supermodel. Every celebrity on television and in the movies looked like that. There was no diversity.’

‘Do you think pop culture influenced or distorted your idea of the “perfect body”?’

‘Good question, but rephrase it as an open-ended question.’

Jas tries again. ‘How do you think pop culture influenced or distorted your idea of the “perfect body”?’

She hits the nail on the head when she discusses celebrity culture and tabloid media idolising the idea of thinness and placing immense scrutiny on female celebrities’ bodies, weight and appearance. She accurately links this to a woman’s worth and male perceptions.

‘I don’t remember a whole lot from when I was that young, but I do always remember you wearing loose-fitting clothing. Your eating habits weren’t anything out of the ordinary, either.’ Jas tries to recollect her childhood memories.

Amity shakes her head. ‘You’re right, I hid the eating thing really well, trying every fad diet and giving up. I liked my food too much. I’m sure your brother remembers the salad phase, the shake phase, the intermittent eating phase—all of which lasted less than a week. No one saw the seriousness. I have to admit, there was a time when the majority of those fads stopped.’

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