"So," Mr. Robinson said, peering at David over his spectacles. "What happened David?"

He stared down at the boy, who had a new hollowness about him. David sat unmoving, his mouth set in a hard line. He looked tired, beaten down.

"David, we can't fix he problem if you don't tell me what it is." Mr. Robinson rose out of his chair to offer him a water bottle, but instead of taking it from him David drew back, almost as if he'd been swung at. "David..."

"You want to know what happened?" He said fiercely, his voice suddenly ripping out of his throat. "Fine."

Going out to dinner with his family was the last thing Stephen wanted to do on a Friday night, but his parents insisted. It was an Italian restaurant, Breadsticks, the same one Sam had taken him to the previous Saturday.

So Son, how are things going at your new school?" His father stroked his chin, scratching his fingers along the stubble growing there. "Is everything going alright with your friend? What's his name?"

"It's Sam… and he's not my friend he's my boyfriend." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother's hand fly anxiously to the strand of pearls around her neck. "We're doing fine, thanks for asking."

"You're still going on about that?" His father asked cheerfully, as if it were a joke.

"Frank…" His mother was staring at her husband, blue eyes warning him not to take it too far in public.

"No, June. Stephen always decides to run around with these boys every time he doesn't get what he wants." He leaned over the table, lowering his voice. "I understand moving was hard for you, but I think you're taking this too far.

Stephen just stared at him coldly. "This isn't just some cry for attention, Dad. I'm gay. It must be really hard for you, having a faggot for a son." He sits his fork down onto the plate of a chicken-pasta concoction and slides out of his booth. "Excuse me. I have to use the restroom."

Stephen brushed past a few waiters and diners, almost knocking a steaming bowl of soup to the ground, before finally making it to the bathroom. The room was completely empty, not that it really made a difference. He stepped into the last stall, the one containing a sink, locked the door behind him and immediately fell to his knees. The porcelain bowl in front of him looked clean, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was covered in filth. Just the thought of it was enough to make his stomach turn, but that was good considering what he was about to do.

The best, or some would say worst, thing about being a boy with an "eating disorder" is the fact that it was uncommon. No one expects a boy to starve himself or make himself vomit. Sometimes though, Stephen wished they would.

Stephen doubled over the toilet seat, regurgitating everything he'd previously eaten. It was the most horrible feeling in the world , throwing up, but it was his only way to cope. He reached up with his clean left hand to flush the toilet and picked himself up off of the cold tile floor. Hurrying to the sink, he scrubbed his hands and splashed the tears off of his face.

He tried to avoid eye contact with anyone once he left the restroom, as if that would make his blood-shot eyes invisible. He rounded the corner to the main dining area and instinctually scanned the room.

Suddenly his eyes caught on a head of bright blonde hair, the owner of whom was laughing and holding hands with a boy across the table.

Sam.

Stephen felt his heart sink and his stomach churn as he saw his boyfriend lean over the table to kiss someone else. He tore his eyes from the scene in front of him and turned his back on them, heading back to the bathroom.

Sam was astounded that he'd actually managed to get Dave out on a date with him. Sure they'd had dinner together before, but this was different. They were in public now.

"This is so exciting, Dave. I honestly never thought you'd actually let me take you out."

"Yeah, well I told you I'm going to therapy now. I'm getting better."

Sam almost choked on his breadstick. "So you told him? About you-know-what?"

"He kinda figured it out himself." Dave fiddled with his spoon and gave Sam a tight smile. "I didn't deny it though."

Sam reached out and took his hand, ignoring the look of shock that crossed Dave's face as his eyes flew around the room, checking for people watching. "I am so proud of you, man. I bet it's not as scary as you thought it would be though."

"I guess not. It gave me the courage to come out to Az too…" Dave looked away. "He didn't take it so well."

"What? Dave, that's great! Well… It's not great that Az was weird with it but-"

"I did it for you Sam," Dave interrupted. "I told you… I'm not scared anymore."

"You're really not scared?" Sam's eyes glistened mischievously, a grin spreading across his face. "Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it." He repeated. "Kiss me."

"What?" Dave's face became bright red and his chocolate brown eyes swelled to the size of Cadbury eggs.

Sam was joking of course, he didn't really expect him to get up in public and lay one on him. That's why he was so surprised when he did.

Dave leaned forward and timidly gave Sam a peck on the lips before jerking away just as quickly. His face was flaming and his eyes were once again searching the room for witnesses.

"Dave, chill out. No one cares."

It took Dave a few minutes to regain his composure before he could speak again. After a few minutes of sitting in stunned silence he suddenly broke out into a huge grin.

"Did I just kiss you in public?" He chuckled softly.

"You sure did." Sam said with a wink.

The two boys went along and finished their meal, enjoying the feeling of this new part of their relationship. Sam had paid the bill and they were waiting for change when he noticed Dave staring at something behind him. Sam turned, curious as to what he saw and immediately froze.

"Sam…" said the small shaky voice so small, but powerful enough to make Sam gasp for air.

"Stephen? What-"

"I was dragged to dinner with my parents." Stephen's eyes looked swollen and his face seemed to be completely drained. "I thought that would be the worst part of my night… Obviously I was wrong." He turned to Dave, all emotion gone from his voice. "I knew this whole time that I'd always be second to you… I just didn't think it would be like this. I guess he's all yours now."

And with that Stephen was gone, leaving Sam to face Dave alone.

"Dave I…"

"Not here." Dave stood up calmly and prepared to leave. "I really don't want to cause a scene. Especially about this."

He led the way outside and they were both silent until they'd reached the safety of Sam's car.

Dave spoke first.

"Sam, please explain to me why I shouldn't just go home and forget you ever existed."

"Dave… I'm so sorry. I don't know how this happened." Sam felt the familiar sting in his eyes. "I was with him, but then you came back and talked about getting better and… how could I say no?"

"Oh, great!" Dave slammed his fist down onto his own leg. "So you were cheating with ME. I was the one that was second."

"No," Sam whispered. "You were never second. I could have kissed Stephen a hundred times, a thousand times, but it never would have been equal to even one moment with you. Dave, I love you. I want to be with you. I love you so much that I don't care if I have to live my whole life in secret or get slammed into lockers every day, I wouldn't care because we love each other and that's all that matters. Right?"

Dave didn't look at him.

"Sam… I really just need to think right now. Please, just take me home."

Karofsky shut the front door silently behind him and tried to sneak to his room (not an easy feat for him, especially in his emotional state). His dad didn't know he'd gone out, and if he saw Karofsky in his "Sunday best" he'd be sure to ask questions.

He'd almost made it to his carpeted staircase when the lamp next to the couch suddenly switched on.

"Son?" There his dad stood, still in his work clothes and reeking of alcohol. "Where ya been boy?"

"Nowhere… Just out with a friend." Karofsky stared at the ground.

"Yah, I saw your little friend pulling in," his dad leered. "the same boy you always hang out with now. What happened to the black one?"

"Azimio? Nothing, sir, we just… grew apart I guess." Karofsky didn't know why he even bothered telling him this, it wasn't like he really cared about his friendships.

"Why are you wearin' your dress pants, fancy? Did you and that boy go on a date or somethin'?" His father cackled and grabbed his beer from the coffee table, giving it a long chug.

"Actually… Yeah. Dad, I'm- I'm gay." The words sped out of his mouth like a gun shot, so loud and so sudden that it couldn't help but cause a sudden, deafening silence.

His father remained still, staring. Fear ran through Karofsky's veins, rendering him unable to speak.

Without warning Karofsky felt his cheek collide with the flat of his father's hand, causing him to stumble backwards and fall to the ground.

"No son of mine is gonna be a queer!"

His dad took another step toward him and swung again, a near miss. Karofsky had never seen him this mad (or drunk), and to be honest it was scaring him. Before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet again, stampeding towards his own father. Luckily his dad was so drunk that he was able to avoid any violence, because he fell backwards almost as soon as Karofsky flew towards him.

Karofsky left his father on the floor and ran past him up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. He was shaking, tears welling in his eyes and his cheek swelling to twice it's size.

Everything had gone wrong tonight. Everything the Karofsky had to look forward to, everything that mad his life worth living. It had all fallen apart.

Karofsky saw himself in his mirror, barely recognizing himself. The boy before him was not the same as before. He wasn't angry anymore… but now he was broken.

What was the point of trying if this happened?

Karofsky grabbed the closest object he could find, a rock from the duck pond where he rocked Sam that day, and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the image.

No, there was no point in trying.