Chapter Twelve
Jack broke down, hands over his face, saying “No, no, no, no, please, no,” over and over again. He seemed to be pleading with someone, anyone, for this to be a dream. But it wasn’t, it was real- I was a self-harmer. And now my secret was out.
I couldn’t do anything to comfort him, because I had caused this agonizing pain in the first place. I could only imagine how he felt- if I were in his position, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself…Actually, in a way, I kind of was in that position though. Jack had been acting strangely for a while now, and I couldn’t quite place my finger on what was going on with him. I tried to keep a close eye on him, because I suspected he wasn’t eating enough. I think he’s on some sort of restricted diet, although I have no idea why…I wanted to focus on Jack, but now that wasn’t an option because he would be constantly worried about me. While I pondered all this, he sat beside me, still weeping. But I had no comfort to give, because all I wanted to do was cut.
I refused to look at Jack, refused to face the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. I also refused to speak. I just sat cross-legged in the middle of his room, staring at my hands. Jack had tried talking to me, asking me questions about my cutting, but I just couldn’t upset him further. And if I explained that, I would have to bring up Tom, and I wasn’t ready for that.
And so I stayed silent.
He pleaded with me, and I broke down at the sound of his begging. “Jack, I’m sorry okay ! It makes me feel…better. Almost whole, if only for a second. I can’t stop- I don’t want to stop. I understand if you don’t want to be around me anymore, if you don’t want this anymore…if you don’t want US. You wouldn’t be the first.” Jack was quiet for a second, and then he said my name softly. “Alex,” The way he said it was so grief-stricken, it broke my heart. He moved toward me, arms outstretched in a “no-harm” gesture.
I let him wrap his arms around me, from behind me. We sat together, two broken boys trying to use one another to become whole. We were two halves of the same person.
He rested his head on my shoulder, “Can’t you see the only thing I want IS us ? I’m not leaving you, Alex, not now, not ever. Only if you tell me to go.”
I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t notice his cold hand pressing against my hip. He slowly moved my shirt aside once again. I stiffened, and he whispered softly into my ear “Alex, please. Let me see.” I didn’t want him seeing again, because he hadn’t even seen the worst ones yet, not to mention he didn’t know about my thighs. So I did the only thing I could do- blurt out “Why haven’t you been eating, Jack ?”
This time, it was Jack’s turn to stiffen up his spine. “W-what ?” He uttered. I said nothing. “I have been,” He argued. “I had pie at the diner.” He dug around in his pocket and produced a receipt, showing it to me. “See ?” He asked desperately. I turned to him, grabbing the receipt. “This is from weeks ago, Jack.” He jumped up, ripping the paper from my hand, swearing loudly. “Goddamnit !”
I cringed, sorry I’d said anything. And suddenly it dawned on me, the realization clear. Jack had an eating disorder.
It all made sense- the touchiness on the subject, the small amounts of food, the refusing food most of the time…How had I not noticed this ? God, I was such a terrible best friend. I was so caught up in my own stuff I didn’t see him suffering right in front of me. The thought made tears spill from my eyes once again. “Shit, Alex…I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry, don’t cry.”
My eyes met his, “Jacky, be honest with me. Do you…are you anorexic ?”
He stared at me, eyes going wide. He dropped down in front of me, mirroring my position. He hung his head, whispering the dreaded word “Yes.”
With that word came the full impact of the situation. Eating disorders were really dangerous, they could kill you.
I could lose Jacky.
We sat in silence in the Barakat home for what seemed like hours, just laying on the floor in despair. How could we save each other if we couldn’t even save ourselves ?
I don’t know how long after that, my stomach growled and broke the silence. I sat up and smiled weakly, “Let me make you something to eat, Jacky.” He looked like he was about to decline, but then he saw my expression and he consented. I stood and offered him my hand, which he took. We made our way downstairs, and I thought about how odd it was that I was making him food in his own home. But then a pit formed in my stomach as I remembered why- if I didn’t make him food, he wouldn’t eat.
I was going to start putting Jack first, because he needed me right now.
