"Mom, I ate like four pancakes already." I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. My mother was a wonderful woman and she loved me a lot, even after my father left she didn't go to drinking like anyone else would have. She took care of Sarah and me, but sometimes she got a little overprotective.
"You need to eat breakfast!"
"Done, ma I did already." I laughed and grabbed my bag on the way out of the door.
"Fine, don't get in a fight today Noah, I have had enough with the bloody t-shirts!" I heard her yell as the door shut behind me. I sighed happily in the cold air, relieved for a few minutes alone.
Fifteen minutes in the car and I was at school, sadly replacing my facial expression with the 'badass king of the world' look. But just inside the door things weren't as normal as I was expecting.
Mercedes was walking next to Quinn. Artie was talking with Santana in the corner of the hallway. The most shocking of all though was Kurt, shoulders hunched, no confident aura and sticking close to the lockers. Azimio walked past him and shoved him hard into the wall to the small boy's right, he stuck to the wall for a moment letting the jock pass without a fight then sunk into glee room with two extra steps forward.
At this point I had stopped in the hallway to see this happen, frozen with shock at seeing that the ice king had melted. As I saw him disappear though, I broke through my stupor and followed him into the room. I expected tears and anger, not what I saw.
He sat on the piano bench, facing away from the piano and staring blankly at… well nothing.
"If you want to hurt me, at least let me make sure I have my concealer to hide any bruises." He didn't move from his position.
"Are you ok?" that moved him; he looked to me, eyebrows knitted together.
"You don't care." He straightened his back and held his head high, highlighting his cheeks. They were missing the innocent roundness, they had pointed tips and there was barely any flesh in his face at all. He was wearing a shirt that I had seen on him last month, but this time it was overly baggy instead of extremely tight. The broken black circles under his eyes were the last thing that lead me to sit next to him and ask; "Kurt, I do care, what the hell is the matter?" no malice in my voice at all.
"It's no big deal." He moved to grab his bag when I heard it. The same sound that my stomach made when I was in Juvie and didn't eat for a week.
"when's the last time you ate?" he froze, his hand mere inches from his bag.
"Lunch." He explained quickly and rushed. His arm wrapped around his stomach.
"I won't tell anyone, I have no reason to, let me help you." There was about five minutes of silence before the small, beautiful boy sighed and hung his head in shame.
"I ate some toast today, but I haven't eaten since…" there was a pause, "Wednesday ." it was Friday today.
"Why?" I asked slowly and put my hand on his. A mumbled response that might have had the words 'pear hips' in the sentence that followed.
"Hummel, how long have you been anorexic?" his head snapped up at me with tears in his eyes.
It seemed that it was the first time that there had been a name put to what he was doing. He didn't realize what he was doing.
"Ya Kurt, you're hurting yourself, you can't just keep doing this."
"You called me Kurt." He looked down at his bag again. "What's in it for you to help me?"
"Nothing, well except maybe the fact that," his head bowed in disappointment, "Hold on let me finish. I was going to say that without the ice king, this school isn't fun anymore. I spent ten seconds without your bitchy sarcasm when I walked in that door this morning and I think I'm going on withdrawal."
"I can't believe you just called me an ice king and bitchy in the same mini monologue."
"And now I feel better." I smiled and the corners of his lips lifted only a little in response but it was a start.
When did I start paying attention to his lips?
"So how do you plan to help me?" he raised one eyebrow and stood up to walk over and sit in one of the more-comfy-than-a-piano-bench-choir-chair and I followed.
"Well something's up, what is it?" he looked nervously at his nails and sighed
"You befriended me in a matter of seconds and expect me to spill the entirety of my problems to you, I want to, believe me I'm in love with the idea of someone to talk to, but I need to know I can trust you." By the end of his speech he was whispering.
I put a hand over his and shined my pearly whites in his direction, "I get you, I'm not exactly the type to trust in minutes. And I'm not going to lie, I had no intentions of walking in school and making friends with you, but I think that sounds kinda cool. Why don't we just hang out and see if I can help?"
"Is this a trick?" he sighed as if he knew that I was going to invite him over to my house just to get him wailed on by the football team.
"Dude I'm too stupid to plan something, if I wanted to do something retarted like that I would have done it already." He laughed breathily
"Fine, you want to watch a movie and eat disgusting junk food at my house this weekend?"
"How did you know what I do every weekend?" he smiled at that one and I mentally high fived myself. I stopped myself in my thoughts. I was really going to help Kurt? Was I going to screw this up and hurt him. Was I actually caring? I was surprised at myself, caring. It sounded fun enough.
"Tomorrow then, what time do you want me?"