CERISIER

TWO

Small talk was passed back and forth like a rubber ball between the teenagers until the deemed faceless (by Baekhyun, anyway) nurse returned from whatever tasks he needed to attend to (it was to get a diet coke from the vending machine with a cracked front in the faculty room).

His name was Park Chanyeol, 23 year old with bright, almond shaped eyes, a passion for late night cable shows, and fresh out of training to be a doctor. He was to replace the previous nurse who had greying ginger hair and corkscrew words that made any student avoid her office at all costs. This new caretaker, however, was kindhearted with better knowledge and judgment than the dreaded and ready-to-retire Ms. Kang. To say the least, a prime and handsome man was not what Baekhyun had been expecting to enter the nearly too short doorway after the patient had been pending with Minseok for what he estimated was nine minutes.

"Sorry about that," he had muttered as soon as he had made his presence known, plopping down at his desk, grabbing a pen to write a pass for a no longer bleeding student. Mr. Park looked up to not only see the head of gingery hair he had expected, but the messy bush of feathery ebony strands he had not long ago laid down on one of the beds. "You're awake, huh? Need any ibuprofen?"

"N-No," Baekhyun lied, merely because of his true awkwardness shining through, "I'm fine." He couldn't keep his stare off of the nurse as Minseok planted his assignment book on his desk, patiently waiting for his well earned pass back to his scheduled classroom. Said student would be found crouching in the corner of the bathroom listening to music not 10 minutes after he was dismissed from the nurses office by an all knowing teacher.

Baekhyun received his pass directly after Mr. Park had concluded that he was fit enough to be dismissed back to class after multiple mediocre questions that nurses tended to ask. The man didn't leave his wandering head though, he seemed too good (looking) to be working in some dingy high school with his all-black business casual attire, in a place where students disobeyed authorities just because they could and grouchy lunch ladies handed out lunches that could probably kill a man if eaten too quickly.

That was the first time Baekhyun had met Mr. Park, the second didn't go as smoothly.

It was gym class, once again, but this time it was the day that students would get weighed, their height determined, and their measurements taken so their new, may one mention, late, uniforms could be tailored properly. For the past two weeks, students were told to wear what they wanted with a grain of salt until further notice about when new uniforms would be ordered, received, and worn. Also to be known as Baekhyun's worst nightmare.

He contemplated just leaving school early, faking a cough or sobbing over chronic diarrhea or some other illness, maybe he could even sneak over to Mr. Park's desk and forge himself a dismissal slip as he heard some graduated students had commonly done with the old nurse, but he knew his dad wouldn't have any of it if he found out, and neither would the school if he set himself up with the latter option. He let out a sigh as the bell rang obnoxiously over the loud speakers and with a cherry cough drop cradled in his cheek and an arm belonging to a certain younger soccer player, he made his way to his dreaded fate.

"I really don't want to fucking do this right now," Baekhyun truthfully stated, tapping his foot on the tiled ground outside of the nurses office, Sehun with his butt on the unsanitary ground beside him as he refused to stand for the period of time it would take to measure and weigh approximately 15 boys.

The bleach blond didn't even look up at him when he replied, his eyes focused on his mobile's flashing screen. "It'll be fine, you'll be back out within 5 minutes and you can go back to your homework and getting hit by dodge balls."

His snarky response earned him a swat on the back of the head and the glorious view of Baekhyun's slouched back. Eventually, after a few more boys had their measurements recorded and a lot of butt-scooting on Sehun's part, it was Baekhyun's turn to enter the office from hell. ("You sure you don't wanna go first?" "Move it, Byun.")

"Next!"

The door was closed by Mr. Park behind the more than distressed boy, a clipboard in hand. "Byun Baekhyun, yeah? You were in here the other day with Mr. Monthly," the nurse quipped, jotting down the students name in the correct margin while said student stripped to his undergarments hesitantly.

"Mr. Monthly?"

"Minseok." Mr. Park looked up from his papers and pen.

"Oh."

The redhead, his widened eyes at the boy with his head low, motioned to the measuring tool. Baekhyun dragged his mostly nude body to the platform and planted his feet on the metal step, hands above him working the plastic bar above his head. Though, they looked too bony and veiny to be hands; claws maybe. "Seventy-three and three fourths centimeters." Then to the scale, oh, the dreaded scale. "Forty-four point eight kilograms."

In that very moment, Baekhyun stood still. His shivering body turned to stone and his heart dropped to his feet. What had he done wrong? Last time he weighed himself he was 44.1 kilos. Was it the peach from yesterday? Or maybe he was just retaining water from lunch. Or maybe it was because he had been skipping out on his workout routine, probably that. He was so beaten after school though, at least in the summer he could dedicate his day's energy to his workout and rest during whatever remaining time he had left. He knew he should've gotten rid of the peach right after lunch had ended, but his throat still hurt from the last time he bent over the porcelain bowl at his home.

The cough drop was crushed between soft teeth.

Gentle hands found themselves around Baekhyun's chest, measuring tape in their grasp. "You should eat a little more, you know." The length was recorded and the same tape snaked itself atop his shoulders. "You're kinda underweight, you know that?"

The student was silent. He knew. He knew perfectly well. He was too focused on the screaming number in his head, a number that was too large for Baekhyun to accept on his body. He was told he was underweight in that moment, but he felt the complete opposite. He felt as if he were tenfold, as if he weighed as much as the Earth itself and he was as big as a cow raised for slaughter. He felt disgusting and fat and flabby and like he needed to be alone with some laxatives.

"Baekhyun."

His trance made up of misery, a number, and artificial cherry snapped and he met the stare of Mr. Park with a palm on his flaccid, boney shoulder. His skin hadn't felt that warm in so long..

"You can get dressed now."