I can't believe that for the first time in my life, I admitted that I am in love. I cock my head up to the sky and feel the rain pour down on me, and I know that it's true. The ash on the tip of my cigarette collapses and falls onto my shoe. I shake it off and breathe in the poisonous fumes.

And then, my hands join. My fingers lace themselves together. And then, for the first time since I was ten, I prayed.

"Lord, give me the will..." I mutter around my smoke. "Give me the will to eat. I don't want to be thin anymore."

The next morning in art, I feel refreshed. I feel... incredible. Human. Perhaps it had something to do with the half a pop tart's presence in my stomach. And for the first time in a year, it didn't feel sickening.

"Hey, Kyle," I say cheerfully as I take my usual seat across from the redhead. "What's up?"

Kyle looks at me with a look I can honestly say I'd never seen him wear before. It's a look of pain, confusion and disbelief all rolled into one. I immediately know that Stan must've told him something about the day before. My 'refreshed' feeling is now 'revolted'.

"K-Kyle?"

Kyle bites his lip and continues to stare at me silently. I frown.

"Kyle, what's your problem?" I ask with growing frustration.

Finally, Kyle speaks up. His voice cracks. "Stan told me... Kenny..." Kyle stops and looks away, his eyes welled up with tears. The teacher is blabbering on about something, but Kyle interrupts him by standing up abruptly and fleeing from the room, leaving his things. The entire class is staring at me. I grab both of our bags and bolt as well, ignoring the teacher's threats of a call to the principal should I leave.

Luckily, Kyle is sitting just outside the room. Unluckily, he is in tears and his face is buried in his hands. "Kyle, what did Stan tell you?" I ask worriedly. I sit down next to Kyle and place our bags beside me.

Kyle looks up and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "You... you fucking dick..." he murmurs almost silently. I frown. "You... you convinced Becca to break up with me." It's not a question, but a statement.

I sigh. "No I didn't. Stan's just trying to get you to hate me." Kyle rolls his eyes and avoids eye contact with me.

"Is that so?" he grumbles. "And why would he do that?"

"I don't know, the guy is fucked in the head, okay?" I say a little louder than necessary.

Kyle scowls. "Maybe you're the one who's fucked in the head!" he argues, his voice still low and sounds more calm than he really is. "Stan told me every single thing you told him, okay? He told me all about your fucking hard-on for me. You convinced my girlfriend to leave me just because you want in my pants, right? You told Stan everything, and he told me everything. So just stop playing dumb," he said quietly. I saw true pain in his eyes. I wonder if he saw the same in mine.

"Kyle, you've got to believe me, I didn't say any of that! And I certainly didn't get Rebecca to leave you. Stan's full of shit!" I try to tell him, but Kyle won't hear it. He stands up, grabs his bag and starts down the hallway. I stand up as well and follow him. "Ky, please, believe me!"

"Kenny, just shut up!"

I scowl in frustration. "Kyle, the only reason Stan said that I said those things is because..." Kyle turns around and gives me a very sad look.

"Yes? I'm listening."

'Because I'm in love with you, and Stan thinks I'm a whore and that you're too good for a guy like me.' I sigh. That would make me sound arrogant. Plus, it's true. I am a whore, and Kyle is too good for a guy like me.

"Because..." My heart pounds in my ears. I look away from him. "Kyle, please, I can't - "

"I knew it, you're so full of it!" Kyle interrupted, turning away again and continuing down the hallway. I groaned and hurried after him.

"You don't understand," I said in frustration. "I would never do something like that, Kyle," I say solemnly. Kyle ignored me and left the corridor.

I feel the tears pouring as soon as Kyle leaves, and I sprint to the nearest bathroom. I drop my bag on the floor of the closest stall and close the door behind me. I collapse against the wall and proceed to sob very loudly. I don't stop as I sink to the floor and put my head in my hands.

When I gather myself together, my stomach grumbles, and I am instantly reminded of the pop tart in my stomach. I glance down to the toilet in the stall, and run my hand through my hair in exasperation.

"Purge."

"Don't purge."

"Purge."

"Don't purge."

As my mind debates itself, I remember my mother's sad eyes a few nights ago after refusing to eat dinner. And then my mother's huge grin this morning as I ate.

"Purge."

"Don't purge."

"Purge."

"Don't purge."

I breathe in deeply, and go through my pockets, retrieving a hair elastic. I tie back my hair and bend down over the cool, white porcelain. I hold my breath as I clench a fist, and slowly raise one shaking finger, my index finger. It slides across my tongue, and down my throat.

At that exact moment, the bell rings, and kids flood into the bathroom. I wait patiently for all of them to exit. They clear out in about three minutes' time, after which, I continue my aformentioned task.

I wretch a few times before finally riding myself of the fat that had accumulated in my stomach in the last few days. I spit, cough, spit, flush. I take a moment to breathe before gathering my things and heading out to the sink to rinse my mouth.

I'm stopped when I walk directly into Craig.

He looks at me sadly and gives me a hug. "Kenny..." he mutters. My heart pounds, and my mind is racing and I can't believe I'm not screaming. Because my secret is gone. Craig has found me out, and he's going to tell everyone about how weak I am, and -

"Kenny, please stop," Craig says as he releases me from his tight grasp. "I... I knew something was wrong, I just knew it." His face turns very serious. "But I just ignored it..."

I couldn't speak. I avoid Craig's dark eyes as I head to the nearest sink. I gulp down a bunch of water before turning around to face him. The one who destroyed my best-kept secret I'd ever had.

"C-Craig, it's not what you think, kay? I was just -"

Craig interrupts me: "Kenny, don't." He simply shakes his head. "You have a problem, and you need help!" I frown and try to leave without further guilt. "Kenny -"

"Look, Craig," I push past him with all the strength left in me. "It's none of your business. I need to be thin, alright? End of story."

Craig lets me go.

I groaned as I walked down the almost-empty hallway, because I know that the story is actually far from over.

A/N: Bad chapter is bad. Review anyways?