"We need to talk," Emmett said, as I pulled a yogurt out of the refrigerator. "That's not the most pleasant way to start a morning conversation," I said, as I pulled the top off the yogurt container. "Sorry. Good morning Emily. We need to talk." I rolled my eyes, taking a seat on one of the barstools. "What's up?" "We need to talk about what happened." "We already did that," I reminded him. "We had a heart-to-heart and then called things even, remember?" Emmett smiled at me. "I'm afraid it's not that simple sis." I let out a sigh. "Three new rules," he said, holding up the number 3. "Rules?" I asked. "Trust me, you want mom and dad to hear that we're working on it rather than ignoring the problem." I couldn't help but agree with that. "Rule number one," he said, leaning on the counter. "I don't care if you're going out to breakfast with Michelle or if you have a major paper to work on or what, you will eat breakfast here before you leave." "Okay," I agreed. That didn't seem unreasonable. "Two, you can keep your membership with Gold's, but only if you go with Michelle. I'm not comfortable with you going alone yet." I sort of saw that one coming. I misused my membership; I was expecting my parents to take it away. "And three," Emmett said, holding up a three, "we're eating dinner together every night." "You have to-" "I cut back on my hours." "No," I argued, shaking my head. "That's unfair to you." "I don't mind," he promised, with a half-smile. "You're more important to me than the body shop." I sighed, shaking my head. "And Parker will eat with us too," Emmett added. "It'll be like we're one awkward family." Awkward is definitely the word I'd use to describe it. Emmett still didn't know what had happened between Parker and I, that little intimate moment we'd shared there for a couple of minutes. And I didn't ever plan on him finding out. "Oh, and one more thing," he said, pressing his lips together. "What?" "Do you want to give me your card or mom and dad?" Right, the credit card I'd also misused. I'd much definitely give it to Emmett than see my dad's disapproving glare when I had to turn it over to him. I reached in my wallet, handing him my credit card. "Sorry." "Don't be," I said, offering Emmett a half-smile. It wasn't his fault. "So that's what I'm going to report to mom and dad," he informed me, as I finished off my yogurt. "And we'll see if I can't cool them down before you get home." "How mad were they when you talked to them?" I asked, as I cracked open a bottle of water. "Not mad," Emmett said, with a shake of his head. "Just a bit irrational." They were probably ready to ship me back to London, and knowing my father he was probably ready to hospitalize me. This was going to be a fun reunion. "I'll see you after school then," I said, with a tight smile. "Don't worry about it," Emmett encouraged, offering me a full-blown smile. "I'm the peacemaker, remember? I'll take care of things." ~*~ "Never smile at a crocodile," I sang under my breath, as I loaded up my lunch tray. "No you can't get friendly with a crocodile." "Don't be taken in by his welcome grin," Daniel whispered next to me. "He's imagining how well you'd fit within his skin." "Speaking of crocodiles," I muttered, turning to checkout with my lunch. "You don't mean that," he chuckled, smiling at me. "Oh but I do." "So I haven't seen you around the past couple of days." That would be because I'd been spending my lunches in the library so I wouldn't have to eat. "So you've been stalking me then?" "Just worried about you." "Well stop." I checked out with my lunch and left Daniel, joining Michelle at our lunch table. "What did he want?" Michelle asked, casting Daniel a look over her shoulder. "I think he's trying to get in my pants. Not really sure though." She laughed, clamping her hand over her mouth. "Emily Winston, you are something else." I poured my Italian dressing over my salad, closing the lid and shaking it up. "Where's your beautiful brother today?" Hannah asked me. "Picking my parents up from the airport," I answered, opening back up my salad. "Ouch," she said, making a face. "How long are they here for?" Any amount of time is too long. "A day or two," I guessed, with a shrug. "Maybe longer. I don't really know." ~*~ "Are they in there?" I asked Parker, hiding behind him as he pulled out his apartment key. "I can't see through doors Emily," he said, with a laugh. "Just listen for a sec." Parker paused, listening at the door. "I can't hear shit. I'm going in." I cowered down behind him as he opened the door. "Parker?" I heard my mom's voice ask. "Shit," I muttered. "And Emily," he added. "I'll fucking kill you," I whispered, before standing up. He shot me a smirk before stepping aside so I could go inside the apartment. "You didn't have soccer practice?" Emmett asked Parker. "Cancelled cause of the rain," Parker informed him, tossing his backpack on the ground. "The fields are flooded." I looked over at my mom, who was just staring at me in silence while nodding at what Parker was saying. My dad was reading the newspaper, completely zoned out of the conversation. "I actually just came in to drop off my soccer stuff," Parker stated. "Nice seeing you Mr. and Mrs. Winston." "You too dear," mom said, cheerfully. "Will you be joining us for dinner?" Oh great. Nobody informed me I'd have to suffer through dinner with them. Parker shook his head. "Thanks for the offer though." And the he left. Silence rippled throughout the apartment. I took a seat next to Emmett on the couch, the tension thick. "Well let's just go ahead and address the elephant in the room, shall we?" my dad asked, looking up from the newspaper. "We shall," I mimicked, causing Emmett to shoot me a glare. "Emily dear, what happened?" my mom asked, her eyes staring into mine. "We received stellar reports from your rehabilitation school in London and you were recommended for release. I would've never brought you back here if I thought that you were unstable in any sort of way." "I'm not unstable." My dad scoffed. Emmett reached over and squeezed my knee, shooting me a supportive smile. "Things just all seemed to spiral out of control too quickly, it won't happen again," I muttered. "It won't happen again?" dad asked. "That's the best you can offer us?" "Dad," Emmett snapped, raising his eyebrows at him. "It's just a bit ridiculous is all," my dad huffed. "We spend thousands of dollars for you to attend a special rehabilitation school in London, and within a month of being released back here you relapse, and the best that you can say to me is that it won't happen again?" "Well what do you expect me to say dad?" I shot back. "Because it sounds like to me you're asking me to be perfect." "Oh here we go with the perfect thing again," he groaned. "When are you going to realize that it's all in your head Emily?" "I think we've had enough discussion for today," Emmett said, standing up. "Mom, dad, if you would please?" He gestured towards the door. "No," my mom said, her lip twitching. "No I will not." Both Emmett and I stared at her in shock. It wasn't like her to speak after my father had spoken. "You took things too far Garrett, that is true," mom said, raising her eyebrows at him. "And we will speak about it later." Emmett and I exchanged confused glances. "But Emily, I need you to understand something," my mom said, coming around the couch to face the two of us. "We would never ask you to be perfect." She looked over at my dad before looking back at me again. "We know we've put a lot of stress on you in the past to do things that seemed impossible, and I am so sorry for that. And I do realize that Anorexia is a lifelong struggle." I tensed up at that, and Emmett shot my mom a warning glance. "But what I want you to understand is that we only have your very best interests in mind. And sometimes we may come across as strict or uncaring, and we sometimes go about the wrong way of showing that to you. But we love you Emily, we truly do. And we care about you, and we're worried about you. Because that's our jobs as parents, to always want to be there for you." A single tear dripped down my cheek, and I had to look away from her. "So I hope you understand us when we tell you that, although we aren't sending you back to London, we do have a few new ideas that we'd like to discuss with you." "And by discuss she means rules you will comply with," my dad added. Leave it to my dad to ruin a perfectly good moment. "These are not rules," my mom countered. "They're more like lifelong strategies, something we should've addressed when you returned from London." I looked over at Emmett, whose smile was more sympathetic now than nervous. That told me he already knew what my parents were referring to. "We've hired a therapist for you to see once a week," mom said, with a kind smile. "Once a week?" I demanded. "That's a bit excessive." "Well we would agree with you," my dad informed me. "But your relapse tells us a different story." "You're really not helping," Emmett informed my dad. "Also we want you to attend group therapy once every other week." "This is absolutely unnecessary," I argued. "I don't need therapy." "The group therapy is only until we feel comfortable that you're endorsing healthy habits for a long-term period of time," mom said, offering me another smile. "And the therapist?" "That's something we see you benefitting from for an extended period of time." I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "You don't need to do this." "This isn't a punishment Emily," mom said, shaking her head. "This is something we should've established weeks ago. We just failed on our part, as supportive parents." My dad didn't comment on that, but his face told me he didn't quite agree. Silence rippled through the apartment again. "So do we have a deal?" mom asked me, after a few moments of silence. "It's not like you're offering me a choice," I muttered. "We're only trying to help dear," she said, before kissing me on the cheek. "We love you."