Internet Scales (Patrick/Pete)

4

Patrick's POV

It had been about a week since my dad had got that McDonalds. I hadn't really talked to him since. He had talked at me but I didn't reply. He told me he could get me a counselor or he could take me to an eating clinic. He had found out that my sleeping pattern was out of whack when he came into my room at half four in the morning and I was talking to Pete. He had apologized countless times for what he said. I didn't go to school. Andy had been round several times but I didn't answer the door. As the week had progressed, my dad had taken time off work to try and get through . I resorted to locking myself in my room and consequently I had gradually eaten less and less. My dad was outside my room everyday, talking at me. I just lay there, on my side, listening to my stomach growl. 

I had been asleep for a while and I was woken by a knock on my door.

"Patrick, buddy. Please come out and eat something." It was my dad's pleading voice. Then came a voice I hadn't heard for a while.

"Patrick honey" It was my mum. After my parents had divorced eight years ago, I think I'd seen her a total of once, and that was when I had control of my body. I didn't know what to feel, hearing the voice of the woman that gave me life for the first time in years. It felt strangely comforting.

"Baby please come out of there... I want to see your beautiful face" At the moment, something clicked. I got up and went and unlocked the door. My parents were standing together for the first time in nearly a decade. My mum just started crying and hugged me tightly, which made me cry too. My dad smiled a teary smile at me over my mum's shoulder. 

We sat at the dining room table. My dad brought him and his ex-wife a cup of coffee each and join us at the table.

"You've changed Patrick" My mum pointed out.

"I know, I got fat" I looked around the room awkwardly.

"Your dad called me because he said that you'd locked yourself in your room. I was really worried about you.  I'm sorry I have't been present." She did sound genuinely sorry. I didn't need her to be. It had been quite fun living with my dad, until six days ago. He was right though. I did eat way too much.

"Andy has been worried about you. We all have." My dad tells me, sipping his coffee. Pete. I hadn't talked to him in six days. He would be so worried. I had turned my phone off to avoid calls from my dad, trying to coax me out of my room.

"I need to pee" I tell my parents getting up and going into my room. I had so many messages from Pete. He was really worried. 

Patrick: Hey Pete

Patrick: I'm okay. Just hungry.

Pete: Thank God. I was really worried Patrick, where were you?

Patrick: Long story.

Pete: You know I will listen

Patrick: My dad told me I was eating way to much and I reacted pathetically and locked myself in my room and turned my phone off and that's where I've been for six days

Pete: Have you eaten?

Patrick: No

Pete: Patrick

Pete: Patrick, you need to eat. If you don't,  you'll pile the weight back on when you start eating again because you haven't managed your diet well

Patrick: You're right

"Patrick? Are you alright?" I drop my phone and sneak into the bathroom, flush the toilet and return to the dining room.

"Do you want takeaway?"