Skinny Boy ✔

Chapter 43: the truth

"Your labs came back okay," the doctor walked through the door, interrupting the peaceful, quiet morning that mom and I were enjoying. Well, at least quiet, but as for peace, there was some unspoken tension between the two of us. "Though there were two that caused some concern. But there was one test in particular that I hoped we could talk about right now."

All the blood rushed to my feet. Oh no. Please don't tell me...

"You remember how we tested your blood and urine?" I gave a small nod. "Well, one of the tests we performed was a tox screen."

No. No, please tell me this is a dream! 

"I never gave you permission to test anything," I seethed. Mom gave me a word of warning, daring me to continue from the corner of my eye.

"You're a minor, so if we needed to consult someone for permission, we would consult your parents," he said.

Folding his hands in front of him, he let out a deep breath, and began the inevitable. "Nathan, I think you know just as well as I do what's going on here."

Mom looked between us with a worried expression. As if she hadn't suffered enough already. "I don't understand, what's..." she began, losing her words along the way.

I covered my face in shame, running nervous hands through strands of oily hair. I really need a shower.

"Nathan, you're not going to get in trouble with the law," he assured me. He welcomed himself to a chair he pulled in front of me and mom. "But to make your treatment as efficient as possible, I need you to talk to us."

I held the nape of my neck in my hands, refusing to look either of them in the eye. "What, so you want me to tell you what brand I've been taking, or what dosage?"

"Everything you know, yes."

Mom started to ask again what we were talking about, but was cut off by the very answer they both asked for.

"Deca and Dbol." Whoever said the truth will set you free, has probably never had to tell their mother the cocktail of drugs they take. I felt far from free; I felt collapsed in on myself, suffocated by everyone and everything.

"What are those?" mom asked.

The doctor finally brought her out of the dark. "Anabolic steroids." Having given her an answer, he turned his attention back to me, leaving her gaping while we talked. "How much? How often?"

I answered honestly, head hung low. In the middle of my answering, while the doctor took down all the information with a notepad and pen, we were interrupted by an alarm. 

He pulled his pager out, looked at it, and flashed an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he said, making a beeline for the door. "I'll consult an endocrinologist to see if they can work with you." 

Of course, pass me from person to person, why don't you. 

For the first time since my confession, I dared to look in mom's direction. She had tears in her eyes, but none of them fell. Not until we made eye contact, that is. That was when she broke into little hiccuping sobs, covering her mouth like I had the night before. 

"I've failed as a mother," she said, more to herself than me. 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, too tired to deal with all this emotion. "Mom, please don't." 

But she did. She blamed herself, nearly drowning herself in tears. "I should have known." 

"Mom." 

"I knew there was something you were hiding, but I-I--" 

"Mom," I said more sternly this time. I let out a sigh and slouched my shoulders, waiting for her sobs to settle down. "Please, stop. You weren't meant to know."