On The Edge

Chapter 10

"N-Not really." I lie, hiding my face from his view.

Niall steps up to the cashier and orders: "I'll take a 12 count chicken nugget, a large fry, and a coke please-- a large coke."
The cashier seems unfazed by Niall's huge order, obviously not the worst he's seen. Liam, Zayn, and Louis order next, ordering smaller meals. I step up to the counter and order nervously: "C-Can I have your 4 count nugget with a water please?"

The cashier nods his head without looking up, and I step aside, letting Harry walk up to the counter. He gives me a look that I can't interpret, making me look down at my hands that I've been fidgeting with. I walk back to one of the many tables in the cafeteria with Harry after he grabbed everyone's food, me helping out as well. I sit down in an empty seat at the edge of the table like I normally do, and Harry plops down next to me, sliding everyone's food in the middle of the table for them to grab. I pull my nuggets and my water towards me, and take a deep breath.

"It's not going to bite you." Louis whispers to me from across the table. I furrow my eyebrows and whisper back:
"I know, I'm not stupid."

Louis laughs and continues to eat his chicken sandwich.
I nervously eat one chicken nugget, waiting for my stomach to cringe; but it doesn't.
I cautiously eat another one, but nothing happens. I quickly stuff the other two and the last chicken nuggets into my mouth and swallow, happy to get some food into my stomach. When I'm casually taking sips from my water, listening in on the boys conversation, I feel my stomach flip. Oh crap. My stomach flips and swirls, and I can feel my food slowly coming back up my throat.

"Excuse me." I say with a hand over my mouth. I bolt off towards the bathrooms, opening the family restroom door since there was a line for the girls' restroom. I fall to my knees in front of the toilet seat and throw-up, my lunch disappearing from my stomach. After a couple minutes, I lean back against the wall, my energy drained and my heart broken. I have a... sickness, that causes me to throw up whatever I eat. But it's not as bad as some other people that have what I have. I can eat a little, like a piece of toast and only have a slight stomach ache. But if I eat anything else, my stomach will reject it and throw it up. No one at the orphanage knew, and only Shades knew, but I was determined for no one to find out.

I'm tired of not being able to eat all the amazing food this world has to offer: like ice cream, cake pops, candy, chicken, macaroni, and stuff like that. When will it go away? Will it ever?

A banging erupts from the door, and I sigh looking up at it from the floor. "Parker, open up!" Harry's voice demands.
I cringe at how angry he sounds.

"Parker, you need to open the door!" Louis exclaims from the other side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I croak, my voice ragged. "Just...just a stomach ache."

"Not on my watch." Harry mumbles. The door clicks and it swings open, revealing the boys, all worried. They rush in next to me, crowding around me. My breathing becomes faster and I scoot away from them frantically.

"Guys, give her some space." Liam orders.

They all sit on the floor, 5 feet away from me. I place my hand to my chest, the feeling of my fast heart beat calming me down.

After several seconds of silence, Louis questions, "Parker, what happened? Are you alright?"

I hesitate, but then shake my head. "No." I mumble quietly, holding back my tears.

"You have an eating disorder, don't you?" Harry answers. I nod slowly and he sighs. "I knew it." A tear threatens to escape my eyes, but I hold it back by pinching my thigh.

"...What is your eating disorder?" Liam asks, gazing at me sadly.

"... A-Anorexia." I choke on my tears that silently spill over my cheeks. "I-I don't p-purposely have it. It's because I was f-forced to not eat when I w-was young-ger."

Louis makes a move to hug me but I scoot back fearfully, my back hitting the tiled wall. He looks hurt, but sits back down on his legs.

"Do you have a medication for it?" Zayn asks.

I look up at his face and more tears come out of my broken eyes. I shake my head "no" and he sighs defeatedly. We sit on the restroom floor in silence for who knows how long. They would glance at each other, then at me, then back at each other. I hated being under their sympathetic and sad stares; it made me feel helpless and like a child. A child that just wanted everything to be better: the nightmares, the eating, the urge to run or cut away her problems.

"Parker, can I hug you?" Niall asks, breaking the silence. I look at his face guilty and shake my head. "Can I touch your hand?" He presses. I shake my head once again. "Can I touch your shoes." Niall said more like a tired statement, like he was giving up on me.

I hesitate, but nod my head; I won't be able to feel it.
Niall looks slightly surprised, but he scoots forward towards me slowly, afraid to startle me, like I'm a frightened kitten. I probably look like one, except for the fact that my face is probably blotchy and red, and that cats don't wear jeans, beanies, and batman tanks.
His hand touches my black combat boots and I hold my breath, waiting for the pain to come; it doesn't. I let out a relieved, shaky breath, relaxing against the wall as Niall's hand rests on my combat boots, his bright blue eyes gazing into mine. I can sense all the boys on the edge of their toes, ready for me to freak out in anyway.

"We need to get going." Harry clears his throat. "We need to get you medicine for your... eating disorder."

I shake my head vigorously. "I-I don't want meh-medicine."

"Parker, that's stupid. You know you need medicine." Zayn frowns, gazing at me with his disappointed, dark brown eyes.

I stifle a sob and stand up shakily, all my energy vaporized. The boys stand up as well, eyeing me warily, like I might break down any second.
"Don't look at me like that." I frown, wiping my hand under my nose. "I don't want your sympathy, and I don't want your help."

"Well, you're getting our help, whether you want it or not." Harry informs monotonously.

I feel slightly relieved that I won't have to worry about them helping me out, but at the same time, I feel defeated, like I lost a game that I had been playing my whole life. I'm no longer independent. I'm no longer the strong person I was. I have to depend on them now.

"C'mon, lets go." Louis sighs, opening the restroom door for all of us to walk out. We do, and they surround me as we walk out of the mall, with their sunglasses and hoods on like FBI agents.

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