Gaige flicks his impassive gaze at Erin, "I don't believe in God."

Erin's eyes widen, so do Brad, as he lifts his head, snapping his gaze between his wife and his son. Erin clears her throat and purses her lips, "While with your track record, I'd say it's about time you start looking for his forgiveness."

Gaige narrows his eyes, darts out his tongue, wets his lips and prepares for a religious battle he's had more than once when Brad surprisingly bounces in, "We won't force you to come, but you must be awake by the time we get back. And you will have to make your own breakfast."

Erin wasn't sufficed with her husband's dealings, "If you prove yourself not responsible enough to stay at home alone, then we will force to come with us," Then she narrows her poorly made-up eyes at Gaige, testing him.

"Don't worry, Erin. This unsaved boy can figure out how to stay out of trouble for a couple of hours if it means not selling my soul to a soulless god," His smirk sealed his comment, and made Erin's lip twitch downward as if her lips could dig any more downward.

"Another rule we have is if you do not have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all," Chester stumbled into the kitchen with impeccable timing, "Isn't that right baby? We all have to only say nice things to each other?" Erin's smile is almost motherly as she pats the little boys head.

Gaige's half-brother smiles up at her, and then up at Gaige, who stares impassive at him, "That's right. So you don't hurt anyone's feelings,"  Before smilingly proudly as if he knows the code to world peace.

Gaige smiles sarcastically down at the little boy, "Then your mom shouldn't ever open those thin lips," Before patting his head like Erin had and turning back up the stairs.

When he falls back in his bed, it isn't as warm as when he left. The bed ruffled loudly, Gaige groaned and grabbed his phone.

To: Gaige

I work 7 to 12. So I've been up longr than your srry ass suk on that 

Sun  8:40am

Waken up that early to bow down 2 God is fucn wild nxt time I see u, u'll be wearn a cross n' like worshipn our graceful land n' shit

Gaige blinks, and rolls his eyes, hating how Leon refuses to type out full words when he texts. Sometimes it's impossible to decipher his words.

To: Brotha Anotha Motha

I've already been given a curfew and a wake-up time.

Sun 8:47am

Gaige tosses his phone into his supply of pillows, sighing at his view of the suitcase and duffle bag on the ground. He pushes the hair out of his eyes, sits up, before grabbing the heavy bag off the ground and onto the bed. The dark wood dresser matches the color of the desk but is hidden in the decent size closet. 

Gaige's luggage consists of, another pair of sneakers, socks, underwear, ripped jeans, basketball shorts, t-shirts, and baggy sweatshirts he never takes off his body to support his unfortunate secret. 

Gaige was a lucky man it made him constantly cold, because no matter the temperature in Florida, Gaige wore full coverage on at least his upper half. It'd been that way for at least the past year and a half. 

Gaige had never been a chubby boy. He always took after his lanky parents, who never held much fat on their body. But, like a switch in his brain was flipped, he became too aware of everything. 

From the boy who didn't about anyone else or their opinions, he began looking and comparing his body to all the other more 'ripped' boys in the locker rooms. He'd sit into front of his mirror, pushing the skin on this stomach around imaging all the kids at school laughing at his fat. He used his mother's old scale to weigh himself uncontrollably until the numbers burned into his brain and haunted him even in his dreams. 

Soon, when Gaige looked at the ice cream cone Leon offered him, all he could see was his stomach grown fat and rounder. When he looked at his plate at dinner, he only imagined the numbers on the scale growing and the boys at school laughing at him in the locker room. He ditched hanging out with Leon and Maddie to hit the gym for a few more hours. He played with his food at dinner until his parents gave up on him eating all his food like he was six again. 

But no matter how slim his stomach got, or was replaced by muscle from working out, it still made Gaige sick to stand on the scale. It was never good enough for his illness. Being asked about eating wasn't good either. Lack of food had an effect on his energy and mental health. 

While Gaige had always been a snippy, stubborn boy, he now didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else or their questions. He felt the constant need to be in control. And any show of emotion he may have had before slipped out the door with his ability to be comfortable with his body. 

His mother nor step-father didn't notice. It was only Leon and Maddy who saw Gaige avoiding carb-filled foods, or showing skin. It didn't happen for a while, seeing as Gaige managed to easily seam it into his everyday life. But a few months ago, Leon noticed his brother throwing away his favorite dinner without a bite. And Maddie noticed when he stopped coming when she suggested they went out to eat.

Gaige denied it of course. But Maddie had expected it, she'd done her research before joining forces with Leon to confront the one-third of their trio that needed help. But Gaige retaliated. He refused to call it what it was. An eating disorder. Anorexia. A death trap. He pushed them away, Leon physically, Maddie emotionally. Gaige drove to Tallahassee, snorted some rich boy's cocaine and came back absolutely wrecked. 

It was Leon and Maddie who welcomed him back. As long as he promised to stop his self-destructing ways. But what they didn't know, was that the illness wasn't as simple as a promise. 

He tried for a little while, to be a normal teenage boy who didn't care about his weight or what his body looked like. But it didn't last long, and now Gaige was folding sweatshirts in his new dresser and wondering where the closest gym was. Not to mention he hasn't eaten in nearly 24 hours, leaving his stomach beginning to swirl with empty sickness.

Gaige shut his last dresser door and closed the closet door where he had stuff his empty luggage when his phone buzzed on the bed.

To: Gaige

Welcme bac 2 bootcamp bitch lol

Sun 9:09am

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