I don't know how to answer her questions and so I don't. "Did you eat today?" "Are you purging ?" "Why are you doing this again?"  She turns back to look at me, expecting a reply but I don't have any. The silence stretches out until she gets out of the car. I am nauseous and curl up in the back of the mini-van. I watch the clouds go by, listening to the shitty easy listening my sister likes. I hate when she asks me these questions, I don't want to talk about any of it. I don't want to acknowledge what is going on, especially to her, not ever to her. 

I read a chapter of Mockingjay and decide that I feel good enough to go back into the party. I'm glad to see I've missed the cake being eaten. My sister is gathering up her kids and my mom is saying her good byes. I've missed almost the whole birthday party. Not that it really matters, kids parties  are "brutally dull" to use my brothers words. 

I can hear the sound of my niece and her friend singing in the locker room. I laugh about this with my nephew who knows how embarrassed his sister will be once she finds out that the whole pool got to hear their rendition of Justin Beiber's "Boyfriend". 

We all finally get into the van. My mom asks how I feel and I tell her fine, it was the heat in the indoor pool that made me sick. It could have been that, unlike my sister I don't automatically think everything wrong is tied to the eating disorder. It pisses me off that she does, but I guess I can't change how she thinks. I just wish that she would quit vocalizing every thought she has about it.