How to Help Howell?

Part 9

Dan

I want to tell Phil what happened to me, but at the same time, I don't want to talk about it. But one thought that's taking up most of my brain is what Phil said in the emergency room.

Another thing that I want to tell Phil, yet don't at the same time is that I had heard every word that he spoke to me while he thought I was sleeping.

I don't want to talk about it because it would make things between us really awkward. He probably only meant it in a friendly way too. What makes that so frustrating is I might love him as something more than a friend. How I wish what Phil said in the hospital was real, I know that it was nothing but figurative.

It was probably not even figurative, Phil doesn't like you, he hates you. He just feels pity for you and that's the only reason he lets you stick around.

I looked over to Phil in the driver's seat and felt a tear roll down my cheek. I looked out the window so Phil wouldn't have to see me crying for the millionth time.

We finally drove up to the building and went inside. We sat down on the couch next to each other in a slightly awkward silence.

"Dan, can you please tell me what happened? My best friend's just been hospitalized and I still don't really know why." I heaved a big sigh and tilted my head back until it rested on the back of he couch and I was looking at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and started to explain.

"These girls in the park...scolded me for being out of shape. I kept running for five miles or so and I was lightheaded, didn't know where I was and everyone laughed at me." I took a deep breath.

"Imagine a circle of people laughing and taking photos of an ill fat person. That's pretty much it. Oh and my hand - I fell because I felt ill and landed on it funny." I looked up to see Phil red in the face with rage.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?!" He exploded, standing up with a sudden shout.

"You're one of the skinniest, most fit people I know, Dan. It's all these anorexic models that's brainwashing these people I guess. And out of that whole city not one person stopped to help you! I can't believe it. I really can't," Phil ranted. I just gave a slight chuckle and looked at his face. He did look like he cared a lot for me, which made my insides tingle. I used Phil's face as a life jacket to keep me afloat amongst the millions of comments in the back of my head, telling me Phil just pities me.

"Alright, Mr. Tomato, you can calm down now. They were all right anyway. I think I want to take a break from jogging for a while...I just don't think I can take it," all of a sudden my stomach rumbled again, the bloody thing.

"Oh, Dan, I forgot! The doctor said you also passed out due to lack of food, you need to eat something!"

Phil ran into the kitchen and brought out that Family Size pack of Maltezers. I gave him a huge smile and snatched the bag out of his hands. I grabbed a handful and popped them all into my mouth.

"Mmm I fuwgod ow good deszh daschted," I moaned with a mouthful of Maltezers. Phil chuckled at me and shook his head.

You pig, what the heck is wrong with you!? Phil thinks you're disgusting and he's right. You really think eating an entire pack of Maltezers will make you more fit? How stupid are you?

Insults came shooting at me like rapid fire, so hard that I almost choked on the sweets in my mouth. I finally swallowed everything after a coughing fit and Phil patting me on the back.

Since Phil was sitting next to me, I snuggled into his chest. He picked up the bag and gestured it towards me.

"I'm okay..." I looked longingly at the bag. I really did miss the candy, as much as I wanted to be fit.

"Dan, please. You deserve it! You've been starving yourself these past few days and I'm really worried about you! Please, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me" Phil looked at me with a pleading look and I just melted into his deep blue eyes. I ended up eating a few more handfuls of Maltezers and playing Just Dance 3 with Phil until we became utterly exhausted and fell asleep.