Internet Scales (Patrick/Pete)

27 - Early grave

Patrick's POV

Yet more pills I had to take to make my brain function normally. I had thought about the fact I might have depression a while ago but Pete had caught my during one of my bad episodes. I felt numb. I had no appetite and no desire to communicate. Pete was watching tv in the lounge and I had just been lying on my bed. I don't know how long for. A while though. My phone vibrated against my leg. I struggled to get it out of my jean pockets. 

Pete: Are you alright?

Patrick: No
Pete: Do you want some company?
Patrick: Meh
Pete: What's that mean?

I drop my phone on my stomach. I just wanted to be alone but I didn't want to offend him. I could hear the tv. Pete had been there when was ill. I loved him for it. Pete always seemed okay but whether he was or not was another story. He was really really thin. I saw he was wearing my hoodie, it must have been to hide his body from the doctor. He ate so much but he didn't gain anything. Unlike me. I just gained every calorie I ate. I didn't want to ask him about it as I was far too awkward even though he was my best friend aside from Andy. I heard Pete coming towards my room and opening the door slowly. I look at him. 
"Are you okay?" I shake my head. He comes and straddles his legs around my body and sits on my stomach. 
"You're so light" I tell him.
"Am I?" 
"Yes. How much do you weigh?"
"I put all my time into looking after you, that doesn't matter"
"But you're hurting your body" He goes quiet. "Can you just tell me how much you weight cause you're clearly not nine stone anymore." He gets off me and goes to get the scales. 
"If you weigh yourself too" 
"Okay" I agree just so he will. I knew I was about eighteen stone. He pulled me up and we stood looking at the scales. 
"You first" I say to Pete. He steps on and the arrow swings around to five stone. I look at him. 
"Pete..." He looks at me and I go and hug him. I could feel his ribs. "Why are you so... small?" I asked him. 
"I can't gain weight. I eat so much but... I just don't gain anything" He tells me. I hug him even tighter.
"I'm gonna take you to Mcdonalds, come on" I let go. 
"No, not before you get on the scales" He points down to them. I didn't want to know how much I weighed. I stepped on the scales. The pointer rocked to just over eighteen stone. I'd gained since I was in hospital. Pete patted me on the back. 
"It's alright buddy" He told me. "We're both unhealthy" 
"Yeah but I nearly have type two diabetes, you don't"
"True, but you can fix that"
"How?"

"With my help"
"You need help too Pete" He looks away from me. "McDonalds?"
"Yeah..."

We walk there and get there at about half past eight. The restaurant was not that full and I tell Pete to order my normal and go and sit down. I get my inhaler out of my pocket as my chest was getting tight. I take five puffs and my chest starts to feel more normal. I look around the room, there was a couple with their two kids, a man sitting alone with his newspaper, a slightly chubby man with a coffee in a suit and other people who just looked like normal everyday Americans. Pete came over with the food and looked at the inhaler on the table. 
"You alright?" He asks, putting the tray on the table and sitting down. 
"Yeah, my chest was just getting a bit tight"
"Alright" He gives me my burger and fries and milkshake. He had the same as me.

Pete's POV

For a guy who had a heart attack about two weeks ago, he was probably on the way to having another. He was sixteen and he was eating himself to a early grave.Though I couldn't talk. I was sixteen and I was five stone. I was eating however, trying to gain weight but he was eating and not trying to lose it. I wanted to tell him that he was not helping himself but he only seemed happy when he was eating. The guy had been diagnosed with yet another mental illness to add to his list. Yes, I felt sorry for him but some part of me didn't for his weight.