I Was Hoping For A Quiet Life, But You Gave Me So Much More

Fantastic Start

The universe decided to throw a wrench in Liam's plans. Mason and him had come up with, what they thought, was a good, simple, and realistic way of getting Liam to tell Theo about his feelings. Then, on the morning of the day he had planned, he felt like he was on fire and he threw up in the bathroom.

To most people, this would be awful. Throwing up isn't fun. It feels uncomfortable beforehand, it burns when it's happening, and afterwards your mouth tastes like crap. The only even mildly good part is that for a few moments afterwards you feel, just slightly, less like you want to die.

To anyone, this would be awful. To Liam, it was so much worse.

The minute he woke up and felt the acid rising in his throat his entire body stiffened. He felt his heartbeat speed up and his, already shaky, hands started to shake more violently. For a kid that didn't really have the means to stay on top of his hygiene, or enough to eat for a large portion of his life, at least that was good for you, Liam was surprisingly healthy. He very rarely got sick. He chalked it up to having been sick more when he was younger, that his immune system was able to build itself stronger. Whether or not that was true he had no idea, but it didn't really matter. He was never, ever, sick. And even when he was he tried his fucking hardest to make sure no one knew.

Being sick at school meant phone calls home to parents. Parents, or in his case a parent, who doesn't want to deal with their kid on a regular basis definitely doesn't enjoy having to leave work early to pick them up and bring them home.

If he knew he was sick when he woke up he would try to gauge whether or not it would be an issue. Headaches were easy. They hurt and it's difficult to focus, but you can sit in a classroom for a couple hours and not worry too much. Coughing and sneezing were a little more difficult, but in general he could just claim it was allergies. People would just look at him sympathetically and then continue on with their lives.

But throwing up. That wasn't one you could hide. As much as you might pray, and try to hold it down, you really can't.

Liam threw up at school once. Seventh grade. He was at lunch, having a normal day, a Tuesday, and all of a sudden he was running to the nearest trash can. After he had been stable enough to walk, one of the teachers had brought him to the nurse. Obviously the school didn't want him to stay there so they did what any reasonable person would do. They went into his file, and they called his dad.

Liam was only sick for two days, but he was out of school until the following Monday.

When he showed up to first period he walked into class with a black eye.

Liam threw up at school once.

Once.

He swore he'd do anything in his power to make sure it never happened again.

Somehow his hopes became reality. He never got sick at school. Once, he was sick in the summer, but that was fine. Isaac had been there to make sure his father didn't notice. He'd picked up any of the chores that Liam couldn't do, and after a couple days things fell back into their normal rhythm.

But that was years ago.

The fear never left.

So when Liam woke up with the burning feeling in his chest he panicked.

He couldn't breathe.

Was he hyperventilating?

Was it a panic attack? Again?

He threw his blankets off of his legs and swung them to the side of the bed. He looked down at his shaking hands and tried to focus his breathing, to calm his racing heart.