I sat there, hidden from Idina's view. As I listened to her sob about how the guys in her life had been the only ones who had ever cared about her problems (she'd been infuriated by the talk because she said that guys were the only friends who had really cared about Idina's deepest concerns), I felt something within me stir. It killed to hear my sister cry like that!
But something else was dreadfully wrong. It looked like anorexia. Finally, Idina began to talk about how so many girls at the camp were so skinny, and how hard it was to eat in front of them - things like that. I sobbed into the open air, not caring who heard me. I didn't want to bottle up my emotions any longer.
Idina found me crying. Her face was wet with tears, and she'd just finished talking to my parents.
"I'm going home," Idina said. "Mom and Dad are coming to pick me up. Do you want to come home, too?"