Page 68 of Hot Girl Summer

“Now, close the left nostril with your ring finger, and exhale through the right nostril. Inhale here through the right side, then block the right side and open the left nostril. Exhale through the left side. This is one cycle. We’ll keep this going for five minutes. Remember to look up at your third eye if you lose focus.”

After the first cycle, I notice the small changes in Kiki’s body language. The slight drop in her shoulders and the slow rise and fall of her chest as she delves into deep relaxation.

Before the five-minute timer is up, the doorbell chimes. Hushed voices follow, pulling Kiki from her practice. A moment later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I say, after receiving a green light nod from my sister.

Mum and Dad follow close behind Kiki’s therapist, Rebecca, who I recognise from our family therapy sessions. Rebecca is kind, gentle and softly spoken, and I’m fond of her. Most importantly, I trust her.

“Hi, Kiki. Do you mind if we have a chat?”

Kiki nods, and shifts to a more comfortable sitting position. I give Rebecca a smile as we switch places, then I join my parents in the hallway.

In the half hour that we wait, my dad’s incessant fingernail-biting habit and my mum’s stress cleaning coping strategy has me on edge, almost to the point of needing to practice another Nadi Shodhana. When Rebecca emerges and meets us in the downstairs hallway, I’m grateful for the reprieve.

“As you know, Kiki’s weight has dipped dangerously low again, so we need to take her back to the unit to run some tests. She’s happy to stay overnight until we have her results, but she’s insistent that she wants to continue her care at home. How do you feel about that?”

“If you think that’s for the best,” mum says.

“I think so.” Rebecca gives her a reassuring smile, and glances up the stairs. “She’s just packing some things. Take your time. I’ll meet you there.”

Ten minutes after Rebecca leaves, Kiki comes downstairs with an overnight bag, and my dad loads it into the car.

“I’ll come visit tomorrow,” I say, giving my sister a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Nineteen

BythetimeIleave my parent’s house, it’s mid-afternoon. Nearby to my old primary school, I weave through busy stop and start traffic, hitting the bike’s brakes at a set of red traffic lights as two little girls hold hands and skip across the road. The smaller of the two bears a similar resemblance to Kiki when she was around five or six years old, and I can’t help but smile at the distant memory of picking my sister up from school when I was a teen.

Back then, I thought I was so grown up. Our thirteen year age gap and my aesthetic maturity meant that I could just about pass for being Kiki’s mum, and we would die laughing from all the filthy looks we received from the teen mum shame brigade. Will life ever be that carefree again?

A lump catches in my throat, and I will myself not to cry—to wait until I’m home, at least. The last thing I want is for this hideous disease to take over my sister again.

My body defies me, and thick tears fall down my face. I know the situation with Kiki’s illness could be worse, but I can’t argue with statistics. I know that anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. I know that only 46 percent of anorexia patients fully recover, and that Kiki will most likely be battling with herself for the rest of her life.

Through my veil of tears, I pull out of the junction, and am met with a loud screech. Tyres scream when a black SUV suddenly comes into view and bumps the side of my front wheel, throwing me into the road. I don’t have time to thank my sharp reflexes or past experiences of falling, but I’m lucky my body knows exactly what to do. My hip and butt absorbs most of the impact, but I can’t stop myself landing partly on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

The woman in the SUV parks up on the curb, and rushes to my side. When I try to move, my muscles feel tight and dry, like they’ve shrivelled up on impact to protect me. Luckily, I feel no physical pain.

“I think so.”

It hurts to speak. My throat is scratchy to the point of painful, like it’s lodged with fragments of glass.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” The woman helps me up and I walk my bike towards the curb. “Can I call someone for you?”

I can hear the woman speaking but her voice is muffled, and my vision is out of focus, like I’m underwater. In an attempt to find calm among the chaos, I close my eyes and take deep breaths to ground myself. When I’m ready, I open my eyes and get reacquainted with my surroundings.

One final deep breath serves to dislodge the shards in my throat. I rise to the surface and finally feel the moisture of my tears as they roll down my cheeks. Pain sears through my hip and shoulder, and I know now that my body will bruise like a bitch.

The woman’s words finally register in my brain. My first thought is my parents, but there’s no way I can call them. Kiki needs them more. Most people I know work on a Wednesday. I try Stefan and James, but neither of them pick up. April answers on the third ring.

My throat hurts like I’ve been chewing on gravel, and my voice doesn’t even sound like it belongs to me, but I manage to briefly explain what happened and send my location.

Before the driver leaves, she passes on her insurance details and makes sure I’m okay. The woman has two young children in the car, so I don’t expect her to stay, not that I need her to, anyway. I remove my helmet and perch on a low wall by the scene while I wait for April.

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