Day 99

“That’s crazy…” Kate grunted stuffing her face with ramen and broccoli. I shrugged down into my seat, scarf covering most of my mouth as I leaned my head against my knees. “Eh,” she swallowed hard giving me the one-two look over. “why aren’t you eating anything yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Do you think I’m fat Kate?  Be honest.” I glared, giving her the most serious look I could muster up the courage to make. She set down her bowl of noodles for a moment, pressed her hands against the table and broke out into uncontrolled laughter. I continued to glare, my face burning with embarrassment and anticipation.

“I mean you could stand to lose a few yeah… but you’re not fat. At least not ridiculously fat.”

“Thanks.” was all I was able to say.

Kate tried to justify her words later down the line but I refused to listen. I went home after our little lunch date and did nothing more than lay in bed with Buster, and cry. She was only being honest, but I was never good with honesty, so my asking of the question was pain I brought upon myself.  I just wanted to sleep. Folding the covers over me slowly I twisted onto my stomach, face buried deep into the make-up stained pillow I had on my bed. The soft hairs of the blanket were warm enough to calm me down a bit; I wasn’t shaking anyone which was fair. My apartment was large and empty. No sign of noise anywhere, except my own breathing. I was completely alone-contrary of Buster- and that’s what I needed the most. That’s what I had convinced myself I wanted.

Until there was a knock at the door.

“Who…” I groaned. I waited a brief moment to assure myself I wasn't imagining company, but the knocking only got louder, and louder the longer I waited. “I’m coming!” I should furiously kicking off my comforters Pressing my toes against the bare flooring I felt my joints crack within them as I walked towards the door. Passing a mirror quickly I paused for a moment and threw my hair up into a suitable bun, and unlocked the door.

“What do you want?” I snarled defensively. Marc stood, looking a bit weary and not fully sober, in my doorway. Wearing only a large T-shirt I flinched away briefly and tried shutting the door, but his foot and hand kept me from doing so. “Go away! I’m not decent!” I shouted feeling my pulse start to race. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing Marc again, No warning phone call, no letter, no email even. I wasn’t ever going to be ready to see him.

“Would you let me inside? I don’t care. I need to speak to you.” his voice was calm. I let my frantic gaze stare furiously into his own before letting my arms melt into noodles against my sides. I didn’t care anymore. I wanted an explanation. I let the door swing open abruptly, and slowly darted off in the opposite direction. My house was a mess. The kitchen was a mess. My office was a mess. My room was a mess. Everything was throw around and unorganized. I wanted to jump out the window and spare myself the coming embarrassment.

“Isabelle, I do owe you a proper apologize first of all… So, I’m sorry.” he started off, his voice was at a quicker pace than before so I assumed he noticed I didn’t want to talk. “But I had a bit of an accident.. for a lack of better words.” he said hesitantly. I folded my arms quickly, covering my my insecurities to the best of my abilities and  gawked at my feet, pressing them together tightly. He took a step forwards, taking it upon himself to take his coat. “Look, I haven’t come to terms with it myself, so you being in a piss poor mood about me giving you an apologize needs to f*****g end.” I flinched back a little hearing him raise his voice. I squeezed my arms together a bit and moved away as he stepped near me.

“I’m sorry.” was all I could find the courage to say. He noticed my discomfort and groaned to himself, rubbing his hands across the full extent of his cheeks.

“I’m sick alright? I haven’t any idea what I’m sick with… but I am sick. I am sick. I’m sick, I’m sick, I’m sick.” he shouted. “So… yeah. I’m sorry for ditching you? I just needed to pull myself together before I passed out on the pavement.” he glowered, pacing back and forth. My eyes were locked on his entire body the second he said he was sick. Arms drooping against my side I balled my hands into fist slowly and stepped towards him. He stopped moving for a moment, and stared down at me defensively building up pure rage in his eyes. But he wasn’t mad at me, he was mad at himself I presumed. “What else do you want me to say? I’m sorry. I do care, and I wish I could have done better.” he muttered through a more whimpered tone. I sighed and looked away from him, extending a hand out I let my fingers slide into the spaced between his own before speaking.

“It’s okay Marc. I’m sick too.”

* * *

“Basically… I’ve got a lot of problems and none of them really have cures.” I said downing another shot. The taste was more than bitter in my tongue, and my nose was inflamed from the industrial smell it left, but the warm liquid made me feel better as it slid down my throat. Pouring myself another he took a swig of his own and coughed as it went down, giving me his full attention for the first time in a long time. I slowly gave him a weak smile, but it quickly faded into a lost mixture of doubt and insecurity as I stared at the dining table. Curling my toes into the cushion of the chair I let my elbow prop against my knee, pressing my hand against my face. “I don’t know… I don’t like anything basically. Or all the things I do enjoy, come with a sick twisted price like a weird game of Saw.” I joked, putting a short smirk on his face. “I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder, I suffer from severe anxiety, I do have a bit of Asperger's, my dad is dead, my mom is a bit of a monster and I can’t seem to do much of anything right. You know what I mean? Like for instance, I talk too much and-”

Marc got up for a brief moment and stared across the table, holding his stomach I thought he was going to have another fit, but instead, he walked around the edge and stood in front of me, showing off a toothy grin. “What?” I said briefly, unable to not smile in response to his own. I stared up at him keenly as he hunched himself over me, hands gripping both ends of the chair I was sitting in his face was only inches away from my own. My cheeks burned red and my eyes gleamed as I watched his hazel orbs twitched.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” he whispered, giving me a short grin before pulling away from me. “And with that-” he started, but didn’t finish.

“And with that what?” I said anticipating his next words. He threw up a hand for a short while, staring around the room, before leaning over, and puking.

All across my floor.

I flinched in disgust, seeing the alcohol and other foods come up from within the pits of his stomach spread onto every inch of my kitchen floor. He wobbled slightly before catching himself against the table, sliding it back a few inches. I quickly jutted from my seat and  grabbed his arms, trying my hardest to lift him up before he fell completely. “Ugh… disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting.” Making sure he was a bit more balanced I ignored his constant babbling about something concerning his job and led him into the bathroom.

Kicking open the door I set him on the floor next to the toilet. I was in fact happy with my decision because he proceeded to continuously vomit, only this time, more violently. He leaned over the side of the toilet, his entire face almost in the porcelain bowl as he excreted everything that was in his stomach until blood and bile started to appear. I tried to think nothing of it but once he stopped having his fit, I made sure he downed several pain pills. Is he just sick or is he having another episode? I shook my head and pulled him away from the toilet, balancing him long enough to pull his drenched shirt off. Taking the delirious boy from the bathroom to my room was a problem. He was much larger than I was, and was completely unable to put one foot in front of the other it seemed.

He was a mess. More than a mess, he was completely trashed, and it was somewhat my fault. “Octopus have eight arms… but squid have ten.” he said out of the blue. I attempted to refrain from giving a smile because I was more concerned with his well-being but I couldn’t fight it. I just nodded and led him into my room as best I could. Ripping off the comforters I threw them onto the ground and shoved Marc over, making sure he fell onto my mattress. I swear to god if you puke on my mattress… He rolled over towards the edge of the bed and let one arm dangle across the edge where I had placed a bucket. I pressed a rag against his forehead lightly and stared emotionlessly at his face.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, mixing some other words into the mix. I froze for a brief moment, wondering what was going on in his intoxicated brain.

“Don’t worry about it…” I gave a weak smile, crawling into the bed next to him. He closed his eyes and went on about how space was infinite, and stars were the most important aspect of the night, and that sort of thing. For some reason, I listened. He himself wasn’t, but I listened to everything he said that night. Eventually he opened his eyes and did something I wasn’t expecting at all.

He leaned over quickly, stopping short his eyes locked precisely onto my own, and he kissed me. My body shivered as a chill ran down the length of my spinal cord, and my cheeks went hot and red as he moved his lips slowly against mine. I closed my eyes and squeezed my hands against my chest, balling them into hard fist until he pulled away. He opened his eyes and exhaled briefly noticing my flustered face. Turning to face the window, he didn’t say any after that.

I was revolted, knowing he had previously puked up an entire days worth of meals and then some, but I ignored it because we kissed.

We kissed.