Free The Disappearing Girl by Heather Topham Wood

I picked up a hairclip from my desk, gathered my hair into a loose bun, and clipped it to the nape of my neck. My makeup bag was on my desk and I began to apply my mascara.
    “I beg to differ. It’s your third date, and by most standards that’s when you’re supposed to have sex for the first time.” Brittany perched on my desk, observing me.
    “How do you figure? We’ve never been on a real date yet.”
    Brittany counted with her fingers. “The night at the bar for your birthday, the day after when you went to coffee together and now tonight.”
    Smiling wryly, I asked, “Is that how long you waited to sleep with Kurt?”
    Brittany stuck out her ample chest and huffed, “Yes. Our first date was when he walked us home from the gym, our second date was when we went to dinner at The Court and the third was when he took me to ice cream after dinner.”
    I giggled. “I think calling that three dates is a stretch.”
    Brittany rolled her eyes and changed the subject. “Where’s Cameron taking you to dinner?”
    “La Villa Rosa. I told him to pick a place and he said they have good Italian food there. I’ll be too anxious to eat much anyway so it doesn’t matter where we go.”
    I browsed the menu online to prepare for the date. I wanted to have a game plan ready so I could order something that wouldn’t ruin my diet. Cheesy pastas, steaks in heavy sauces, and fried fish dishes contained enough calories to surpass my calorie goals for the week. I’d have to order the grilled chicken with vegetables or a salad with fat-free dressing to avoid overindulging.
    “Don’t be nervous, it’s only a date,” Brittany told me. “Try not to be uptight, and have fun.”
    If only it was that simple.
     
    “They have a wine list. Do you want to order a bottle?”
    I drummed my fingers on the table and tried to remember how many calories were in a glass of wine. If I was correct, I believed white wine had fewer calories than red wine. At my lengthy pause, Cameron had begun staring at me. This had become my life, disappearing into my head in an obsessive quest to be thin.
    “Any type of white wine would be good. I don’t know much about wine, so you can pick a type,” I said.
    “I’m typically a beer drinker, so I’m clueless about wine. We’ll ask the waiter to recommend something,” he said, setting down the wine list.
    “You should never do that; he’ll swindle you into ordering the most expensive bottle.”
    “You’re probably right,” he acknowledged and his lips upturned into a seductive smile.
    I took the opportunity to study him. For the date, he had dressed in a light green dress shirt, tailored perfectly to accentuate his broad shoulders and chest. His gray dress pants were neatly pressed and belted around his narrow waist.
    The restaurant was upscale, the atmosphere romantic. The lighting was low, and soft piano music played in the background. Cameron was going to great lengths to impress me, which was unnecessary, since I was already infatuated.
    When it was time to order, I chose a salad with hearts of palm and artichokes, seasoned with lemon juice. Before Cameron ordered, he frowned my way. “Are you going to order anything else? I think that’s a starter salad.”
    As the waiter and Cameron stared at me, my palms began to sweat. I felt smothered by the questions and opinions everyone seemed to have lately about my eating habits. “Umm, I’ll also have the vodka rigatoni with chicken.”
    It was a horrible choice. The prosciutto and the heavy whipping cream gave the dish an astronomical amount of calories. However, throwing up my food for two months had taught me what type of meals would come up easier than others. Creamy foods and desserts weren’t as likely to become lodged in my throat and produce a coughing fit.
    “What are you thinking about?” Cameron asked me when the waiter left.
    “Hmmm?”
    “You sometimes get this faraway look on your face. It makes it difficult to read you.” He