The List by Siobhan Vivian

she’d spent her summer did make a difference.
    Except you’ve gained almost all of the weight back, Bridget.
    Bridget doesn’t want to let anyone down. She wants to be better, smarter this time. With the homecoming dance just five days away, this cleanse is the answer. All she has to do is follow the directions.
    If you were sick, you’d just stop eating again.
    But you’re not sick.
    You’re healthy.
    Bridget carefully measures out the ingredients according to the recipe. She tips the measuring spoon over the lip of her plastic water bottle, sending a tiny pile of red dust to the bottom. Next, she slices a lemon and squeezes it into her hand. Her fingers trap the seeds, and the juice stings where she’s bitten the skin around her fingernails. The maple syrup is the last part. The glass jar is sticky, the cap fused shut with sugar crystals that break apart and powder her hands. She sends a thick chestnut stream into the well of her tablespoon. Bridget wishes there wasn’t so much syrup involved. Two tablespoons seem like a lot. She checks the calorie count on the syrup bottle, frowns, and makes the executive decision to cut the amount in half.
    She uses the water filter on the refrigerator door and fills her bottle up to the tippy-top. If she takes small sips, she should have enough of the cleanse mixture to last her through the school day. She shakes the bottle, then removes the cap. Tinyspecks of cayenne pepper float on the top of the frothy tea-colored water. Bridget holds it under her nose. It smells like lemonade on fire.
    Lisa comes downstairs and sits at the breakfast bar. She’s got on a corduroy jumper that Bridget had picked out during their back-to-school outlet excursion. Bridget gets the milk out for her. “You look cute, Lisa.”
    “Bridge, can we please go shopping for homecoming dresses after school? I feel like I’ve been looking at pictures online for weeks, but I want to try things on.”
    “I don’t think I can today.” Bridget wants to give the cleanse time to work. The paper says she can lose up to ten pounds in a week. Only she doesn’t have a week. Just five days. “Maybe Thursday.”
    Lisa’s mouth gapes. “Thursday? But the dance is on Saturday! What if we can’t find anything?”
    “It’ll be fine.” Bridget senses the disappointment in Lisa, and quickly adds, “You can ask Abby to come with us, if you want. And I already talked to Mom about the makeup thing. I think she’s going to be cool with it, so long as it’s a light touch.” The last part is a lie, but Bridget will ask her mother for Lisa tonight.
    “What are you making over there?”
    Bridget quickly crumples up the paper and throws it in the trash with the squeezed lemon half. She puts the rest of the ingredients away. “It’s this health food thing that’s supposed to boost your immune system.” When she turns back to face Lisa, she puts a hand to her throat. “I feel like I might be getting sick. And I don’t want to miss the dance.”
    “Can I try it?”
    Bridget shrugs and hands it over. A guinea pig for the first sip.
    Lisa puts her lips to the bottle. Almost immediately, Lisa puckers and gags. She pushes past Bridget and spits the liquid into the sink. “Ew, Bridge! This stuff is nasty!”
    “It’s not that bad.” It can’t be. She’s not allowed to eat or drink anything else all week.
    Lisa grabs a paper towel and starts wiping down her tongue.
    Bridget groans. “Don’t be so dramatic.” And then she takes her first tentative sip of the cleanse. It burns the back of her throat, burns all the way down.
    You know, it might be easier not to eat anything.
    Bridget takes another swig. A big, bold, defiant gulp to drown her brain. She can do this. And then, after homecoming, the pressure will be off.
    Lisa frowns and climbs back onto her stool. She pours herself cereal, her favorite kind, with marshmallows in it. Bridget likes that kind, too. The way the little bits crunch and dissolve, how they