I Knew A Boy

Once again at dinner, I sat there pushing the food around, just not hungry enough to eat at all. It had been like that for over a week. It ad been over a week since Zack was missing from my life, over a week since anything was close to normal, over a week since I was even remotely close to being happy.

"Amanda, Sweetie, are you feeling alright?" I heard my mother ask from my left. I slowly looked up at her, my hand still glued to the fork as I used the other to adjust the glasses on my face.

I shrugged my shoulders, looking back down at the plate of food that disgusted me so much, again pushing it back and forth on the cheap Correll plate. I felt my mother's smooth cold hand firmly against my forehead as my stepfather and sister ate on in silence.

"Well, you look a bit pale your forehead's a bit warm. Do you feel sick at all?" she asked. Again I shrugged. "Maybe you should just go lie down. Get a little rest or something."

I nodded, slowly getting up from the table and emptying my full plate in the sink again, like I had so often in the past week or so. I trudged my way up to my room, shutting the door behind me, and the first thing my eyes saw was my own reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. Mom was right, I did look a little pale. And a little sick. And a little gaunt.

The flesh that had once filled my cheeks had hollowed out, I noticed once I had come very close to the mirror. My collar bone stuck out and there was a larger indent in the front of the base of my neck, even more hollowed out. The bones in my wrist stuck out unnaturally, and my arms looked skinnier.

I glanced down at my waist to see the belt holding my pants up and I reached for it, undoing it and pulling it from the loops only to see my size 1 pants slide down my frame about four inches before my thighs stopped them, but just barely. I tugged my jeans down gently and they dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it up and off my frame as well, it too dropping to the floor. I was left with nothing but my bra and underwear, standing in front of that mirror.

I don't even know why I wore a bra. I didn't really need one - my breasts were rather insufficient. I wished I had a little something more because the boys at school usually made fun of me for it. Who knew boobs were so important?

Turning to the side, I glanced at my profile. No stomach, no butt, nothing. No curves in the front, no curves in the back or sides. I might as well have been a stick figure, because even before I lost a little weight, I was still almost deathly skinny. I hated admitting it to myself, but I looked unhealthy, and it almost grossed me out. I didn't want to look this skinny. I just wanted to lose a few pounds and it got out of control. It just sort of happened.

Sighing to myself, I looked back upward, my eyes passing over my torso. My ribs stuck out in a rather grotesque way; I could stick fingers behind them. ALL my fingers.

Finally, I looked back up at my face and showed my teeth. Possibly the only perfect things I had, thanks to the hideous braces I had to wear all throughout seventh, eighth, and ninth grade. Possibly the one thing I liked about myself.

I slipped my clothes back on my body after my close scrutiny of myself, making sure my belt was tight enough to keep my pants up. I left my room, traveling down the hall to my bathroom, where I dragged the weight scale out of the linen closet, standing on it. Glancing down, I was met with a dwindling two-digit number. Eighty-five pounds. A number I hadn't seen since I was about twelve. I was back to that number, and something was seriously wrong with me. I had lost a good fifteen to twenty pounds in just about a week or two.

"Amanda!" I heard my name being called up the stairs.

"What?" I shouted back, stepping off the scale and pushing it back into the corner, leaving the bathroom and heading to the top of the stairs. My mother was standing at the bottom, waiting for me.

"There's a friend of yours at the door for you," she said, and I went after her down the stairs and through the living room to the kitchen. "He's waiting outside."

I cocked an eyebrow, not knowing what guy could be at the door for me, but crossed the kitchen anyways. Surprisingly, I was met with the face of Brian, who was waiting with his hands in his pockets on the porch. He looked up and gave a small grin as I came outside.

"Hey..."

"Um... Hi. What're you doing here?" I asked, trying not to sound rude because I didn't intend to be rude toward him at all.

"I uh... I just wanted to see how you were holding up. I noticed you've changed at school and all... and... Sam says you've been acting a bit strange around her," Brian muttered, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"Oh.... I guess I'm --" I started to say, but then sighed heavily. "Honestly, I don't know what's going on with me right now."

"Do you want to... talk about it or something?" he asked politely.

"Mm..." I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders as I mirrored Brian, placing my hands in my pockets. It was quiet a little after that. I don't think either of us really knew what to say in the situation.

"Amanda... I... I know," Brian finally pressed. I looked at him curiously, wanting to know just what it was about me he knew.

"You know what?" I asked.

"I know about... how you feel about Zack," he mumbled, and my eyes literally bugged out of my head. Brian caught the look I made and chuckled a little, adding a small grin. "It was kinda obvious," he spoke.

I felt my face flush crimson. "W--was it really?" I didn't think anyone really knew unless I told them."

"It's alright," he said, and I could hear the reassuring smile in his voice. "Do you wanna maybe... come walk with me? Talk a little now that you know that I know and all," he offered again.

"..Alright, I guess," I answered, and we stepped off the porch and began our way down the road.

"So, you really love Zack, huh?" Brian asked timidly, walking slowly beside me as we trudged on in the oncoming darkness. It sounded a lot more stupid when he said it than when it remained a thought in my head.

"I... guess. I dunno..." I replied, feeling my face flush again.

"Well of course you don't know... I mean, I'm not trying to be rude at all, but you're only fourteen. I'm almost eighteen and I'm not sure I even know what love is. You get me?" It sounded so logical when the words came from him.

"I guess you're right. But I still really... like him. I don't even know why, but I do. I'm jealous of my damn sister because he loves her and stuff and she isn't afraid of shoving that right in my face," I muttered, kicking a rock along the sidewalk.

"So that's why this has been so hard for you?"

"Yeah... I mean, I've never felt this way about anyone before. And I just feel so helpless because... I know there's nothing I can really do to help him, through all of this. Hell, I can't even write him a letter."

"Yeah, I know how you feel about Zack. I kinda feel the same way about this girl I know," Brian said, and I could see him look at me out of the corner of my eye.

"So... how's this all affecting you? Zack, I mean," I asked, turning the spotlight on him. "I mean, he's your best friend and all... It's gotta be hard on you."

He sighed, looking down shortly before locking his gaze straight ahead on the path we were traveling on. "I'm scared shitless of losing him. I think he's a damn fool for pulling this shit, and I want to help him, but I'm in the same boat as you - I don't know what the hell I can do. I'm just glad that he's finally in a place here he'll get the help he needs," Brian said, and I furrowed my brows as I turned to look at him.

"How can he possibly be getting the help he needs when he's practically locked up?"

"He's under the care of a good psychiatrist. And he's not... locked up. They're just keeping him in a protective environment so he can't... do anything to hurt himself again," Brian countered, and I felt my eyes well up with tears at the thought of losing Zack. "Hey... Come on, please don't cry Amanda," Brian cooed as he heard me sniffle and saw my tears finally break free. He pulled my body into his and held me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, crying into his chest.

"Do you think Zack's gonna be alright?" I sobbed, my fists clutching Brian's shirt.

"I don't know... I really don't know," he answered, his fingers caressing my back to help me calm down. "We can only hope the best for him now."