Enjoy 🍑 another chapter I planned out a while ago... Also, pretend baseball season starts in February... I can't remember exact months and shit.
Baseball started up again.
Chase was glad he could spend more time with Max. He had to see Clyde a lot, especially since he was the pitcher and Clyde was the catcher.
But he was distracted by Max to hurt.
It was the first game of the season. The bleachers were crowded, the sky was dark, the bright ass field lights were on.
The weather was nice, fairly chilly. Chase wore a thick long sleeve under his jersey.
His eyes lingered on the other team as he threw the ball to Max. He forgot their school name, but he knows they are equally as good.
"Chase?"
The dark haired boy blinks, not noticing a ball flew past him. He walks after the ball, not having energy to jog.
He didn't eat or drink a single thing today. Even when Max urged for him to eat some lunch, Chase just mumbled how he wasn't quite hungry when he was starving.
Chase was at the starving stage where he was used to the pain. It was dull, it only hurt if he thought about it.
His stomach made gurgle noises, laxatives were the only thing filling his stomach. Nothing was even in his stomach, only a small amount of disgusted food from yesterday.
Chase's head was throbbing, he considered drinking water. Or Gatorade. Something. But he didn't want to have a full stomach during a game.
The older boy threw the ball back to Max, taking a long blinks. He needed food. He needed water. He needed something other than just dehydrating laxatives in an empty stomach.
"Are you alright?"
Chase quickly nodded his head. Too quickly. He felt light headed, he saw another planet. From just nodding. "Yeah, tired."
"Still coming over after th-this?" Chase weakly smiled and nodded, catching the ball thrown at him. He nearly missed it. "Good."
The coaches whistle blew.
The game began. Chase wished he wasn't there. But he knew he had to push through.
The first few innings were fine. Chase threw greatly, only getting a few balls. His head spun everytime a ball came flying towards him. It was a wonder how he was still standing.
Chase didn't do too hot batting, he miraculously hit the third perfect pitch thrown. He made it to second base, his legs felt like jelly.
Max and Clyde both noticed how off Chase was. The two exchanged concerned looks in the dugout while observing Chase.
Once he came back after getting to home base, scoring a point. They were only a few points behind, not everyone has even batted yet.
"Chase, you need to drink something." Clyde urges, holding a bottle of Gatorade out to the dark haired boy. Chase waves it off, removing his helmet. "Seriously, you look sick. Have you drank anything today?"
Chase nodded, even though it was a complete lie. He refused to drink or eat, he didn't want to see the numbers on the scale rise.
The scale was his new best friend. He played around with the numbers, watching as they dropped as quickly as possible.
He didn't know how dangerous that was.
But just drinking water made him sick. Having something in his stomach made him gag.
