Hunger Point | Phan

Chapter Twelve: Misunderstandings

{ Dan }

"Fuck!" I cursed as Phil fled from the room, sighing. I laughed because I couldn't believe he actually kissed me! And I would've told him that if he wouldn't have run off!

Dan, don't just sit there! Chase him!

I stood to follow him but I was too weak: stars flooded my vision to the point I was floating through space. It all felt very Doctor Who. I fell back on the bed, sighing. I need food. I have to eat to get stronger. Just this once. For Phil. It'd be hard..and I'd regret it..but Phil is more important than being thin. I think. I hope.

- - -

"You can do it." PJ encouraged, inching the plate class closer to me. It was a simple PB&J sandwich...but it wasn't simple to eat it. I could do this, though. For Phil. I lifted the sandwich to my lips, pausing, squirming a bit under Phil's friends' gazes. Deciding it was better not to allow myself to think myself out of it, I took a small bite of the sandwich, chewing it cautiously, testing the waters. But as the flavor reached my taste buds, my anxiety skyrocketed and my disorder took over; I freaked and spit the bite back on the plate, pushing it across the counter roughly, frowning as PJ and Chris sighed at my defeat.

I just couldn't eat it. I'd never forgive myself if I did.

I failed Phil.

"I don't know what happened..but since you're so weak..how about you just sleep and talk to Phil in the morning when he's calmed down?" Chris suggested and i shrugged, nibbling on my lower lip. Yeah, I guessed that'd be okay. But we'd talk first thing in the morning.

"Can you drive me home?"

- - -

Oddly enough, Phil wasn't at school the next morning. And I know for sure because after an hour of not seeing him around, I stopped in to see the librarian, who had always liked me because I read a lot and spent most of my time in there. She looked up the attendance for me, informing me Phil had never shown up.

So since I had a night's rest under my belt as well as a slice of an apple in my stomach, I had just enough energy to make it to Phil's.

Once at his house, I knocked and knocked but to no avail: he never answered. But I know he's home because his window was open and I could see inside. His TV as well as his lights were on. I wasn't stupid. I couldn't see the entirety of his room so I'd no idea if he was lurking in there, watching me, embarrassed to speak to me, so I got a great idea. Since I never got the chance to share my feelings yesterday plus being awful at communicating how I feel anyway, what better way to do it than through my favorite method of communication? Music. I'd sing him a song.

With the perfect song in mind, I cleared my throat and began.

" I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care,

but it's so cold and I don't know where.

I brought you daffodils in a pretty string,

But they won't flower like they did last spring.

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright,

I'm just so tired to share my nights.

I wanna cry and I wanna love

But all my tears have been used up.

On another love, another love.

All my tears have been used up on another love.

And if somebody hurts you, I want to fight,

but my hand's been broken one too many times.

So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude.

Words-they always win, but I know I'll lose.

I wanna sing a song, that'd be just ours

but I sang them all to another heart.

And I wanna cry, I wanna fall in love

But all my tears have been used up.

On another love, another love.

All my tears have been used up on another love. "

I, surprisingly, heard someone after I sang. It definitely wasn't what I expected, though. It sounded like a groan. Was Phil hurt? Did he drop something? Was he crying? Angry? That's when movement in the window caught my eye. All I saw was someone's arm. Then they shifted, and the full scene came into view. It was Phil, connected at the lips, with some guy. I couldn't tell who it was or if I knew them yet. I just knew they were all over each other: the heavy making out, the grunts and groans, the roaming fingers, the heated grinding. It wasn't love, though. It was lust.

When my mind caught up with my heart, I felt like I had been punched in the throat. All the air had been knocked out of me. It hurt to watch the scene in the window. It hurt to see anything. It hurt to live.

As I was getting ready to flee from the scene, the other guy's face swam into my view. It was, the one and only, Chris. Phil's best friend Chris. The same Chris that tried to help me yesterday. How could Phil?! I couldn't believe this! I felt numb. I felt like this wasn't even real, like I was dreaming. I was kind of hoping I was.

Before I understood what i was doing, I was running. As fast as I could. To where, I don't know. Just anything to distract me from these God awful feelings in my chest. Anything to prove that I was alive and real.

Oh man, would support group tonight be a trip.

| › semi short chappie, please forgive me (excuse time): it's short bc I've a serious migraine, not to mention therapy right after school, not to mention a biology project due tomorrow that I hadn't even started on plus algebra homework plus two worksheets of biology on top of the project that I've yet to do so I could finish this chapter. You're welcome. & sorry if you don't like the route it's going, i just didn't want them to be together so quickly. They'll be together within the next few chapters, though. c: