Lucas' POV
Maya comes into the apartment. Mr.Matthews and I are the only ones awake. I refused to leave. She looks exhausted. She doesn't look at us, though.
"I am sorry." She has been crying. She came in with tears that are still falling. "I want to. I want to do what you say." She says to Mr.Matthews. "I'm tired."
"Then lay down." I stand up, confused as to why she can't.
"I can't. That's what I've wanted to say. It's not that easy. Every muscle in my body is tense if I don't do enough but I can't do enough. Every second I spend alive I can't relax, I have to be burning calories that I can't get myself to eat. I can never do fucking enough and I hate it!" That was surprising. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be here." Great, so she's suicidal too.
"Maya?"
"Ya?"
"I need to you hold on no matter what. You've never had much hope but please, gather what ever you can. I can't loose you." I kiss her on the forehead and then rest chin on the top of her head, hearing her fight her quiet sobs and I swear I have never heard a worse sound then the sound of the girl I love, crying, because it hurts.
Cory's POV
Lucas left after Maya fell asleep. I woke up early to make sure Maya doesn't leave. But she's not going to. She's weak. She's shaking and her eyes look dead as she looks at me after opening them.
"Morning." I sit next to her with a carrot. Probably not the first thing she wants to face in the morning, but she has to. And she is able to bite the end .
"Good." She bites another.
"I can't taste it."
"You will." She fiddles with it before taking her third bite. She really is trying. Trying for Lucas, I think. Sweet, but there's problems with that. She shouldn't be doing it for someone else. But I will deal with that when she is stronger.
"Don't be afraid, Maya. Your always going to be small. You've always been small. No one was saying you weren't. They were comparing you to your eleven year old self. You don't want to look eleven, right?"
"No. I don't. But I don't look eleven."
"How old do you think you look?"
"Fifteen."
"An extremely underdeveloped fifteen year old then." She takes another bite. I smile.
