********************TRIGGER WARNING!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK********************

It is only a few more hours until the pep band game and I feel awful. I have just eaten two pieces of pizza and a honey bun. I know that I shouldn't have eaten it, but I was hungry. I know that I was finally getting smaller and now I am just going to be fat again. I start to get tears in my eyes and run out of the band room and go towards the restroom upstairs. I notice that Dylan is sitting in the lounge listening to music. Once he sees me, he gets up immediately and starts to walk up to me. But I start running because I need to get to the restroom before I can't throw up enough. 

"Cassandra, wait! Are you okay? What's wrong?" Dylan asks, he seems like he is actually worried, but I know that no one is stupid enough to care about me. I go into the girl's restroom and lock the door, as soon as I get on my knees, I hear Dylan starting to knock on the door. 

"Cass, are you okay?" he asks. I start to cry because, no I'm not okay. I stick my fingers down my throat and start to gag myself. I end up throwing up all the food that I had eaten before. After that, I just sat back against the wall and cried. I didn't know that on the other side, Dylan was picking the lock until I saw him get through the door and come right over to me with a frantic look in his eyes. 

"What happened? Why are you crying?" Dylan asks me. I shakily point to the toilet where I had just thrown up in moments ago. He gets up and walks over to the toilet. When he saw what was inside, his face showed no emotion but sadness. He immediately walked over to me and enveloped me in his arms.

"Why Cassandra? Why would you do this?" I figure out that he is crying. I don't understand why though. No one ever cares about me.

"I'm fat and ugly and-" I get cut-off by Dylan "No you are not, I don't ever want to hear you say that again. You are not fat and you are not ugly. You are beautiful Cassandra." Dylan says.

"No, I'm not, I never will be and no one will ever love me. I'm worthless and pathetic and just want my life to be over." I said. By now, Dylan had pulled me into his lap and was cradling me in his arms.

"I am going to take you home. Is there anyone at your house?" he asked me. I shook my head no because my mom was at a work conference this weekend.

"Well then you are coming to my house, lucky for you, no one is home tonight except for me," he explains.

"What about the pep band game?" I asked since it would start in around two and a half hours.

"There is no way you are doing the pep band game tonight, your nerves are all screwy because of your crying, the vomiting doesn't help either," he explains and I nod my head, showing him, I understand. He stands up and holds out his hand to help me up. I stand up, but I soon got hit with a wave of dizziness. I would have fallen if it weren't for Dylan catching me.

"Man, when was the last time you ate and kept it in your stomach?" he asked me. I must think about it for a second.

"Four days ago," I said. He shook his head at me and picked me up bridal style.

"I'm not letting you walk, you could fall and really hurt yourself. You aren't exactly graceful on a good day either." I smiled at his words. He walked us downstairs and into our band director, Mr Griffin's office.

"Hey Mr. G, Cassie got sick, I'm going to take her home so we won't be at the game tonight," he said.

"Okay, that's fine. Thank you, Dylan for taking care of her and Cassandra, I hope you feel better." Mr. Griffin said. I mutter a quiet thank you and we left Mr. Griffin's office. Dylan took us through the band room to the door that leads us outside. He then walked to his car and put me in the car on the passenger side. His house is only about a mile from the school so we will be there in no time.

"How long have you been doing this?" Dylan asked me. I clear my throat before I begin to speak.

"Three years." Dylan looks over at me with wide eyes and he slightly opens his mouth, shocked.

"How are you still living?" he asks.

"Your body will start to digest things after only a few minutes of eating. It takes four hours for food to fully digest. So, I would wait about an hour to two hours so some food digests, but not all of it." I explained. My voice is still groggy from throwing up.

"Wow, you really had it down to a science," Dylan said.

"I had to if I didn't want people to know, but I had to be stupid about it today so you figured it out," I said, looking down.

"Well, it's a good thing I found out so I can help you. We are here." He said stopping the car. The house is a two-story dark blue beautiful house. He got out and walked over to my side to help me out.

"Do you think that you will be able to walk?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I might just need an arm to lean onto," I said. He then proceeds to hold his arm out to me as if he was going to usher me somewhere. When we walk into the house, it is a doorway where we take our shoes off. It is November, but we only have hoodies on today. On the left of the doorway, there is a kitchen and on the right, is the living room.

"You can go on in the living room, I'm going to go head upstairs and change into some sweats and then you are going to eat something and keep it down," Dylan tells me and I reluctantly nod, going into the living room and taking out my phone to play some solitaire. After playing a few games of it, Dylan comes in and asks if I'm allergic to anything. I shake my head no and he tells me that the food will be finished in just a few minutes. It is about fifteen minutes later that he comes out of the kitchen and over to me on the couch.

"I made grilled cheese. I remember you saying something about it being your favourite." Dylan said and then sat down next to me.

"Thank you, but how do you remember that?" I asked.

"I like to listen to people, I like to listen to you talk, I know it is weird and stupid," Dylan said. I can tell that he is embarrassed for saying that aloud.

"It's okay, I don't mind. I just find my voice super annoying that's all," I said looking down.

"Why, your voice is so light and makes everyone smile when you still get squeaky. And your singing voice is soft and nice too," he said.

"When did you ever hear me sing?" I ask.

"You sometimes will sing softly when your earbuds are in without knowing it," he explains. Now it is my turn to be embarrassed.

"I didn't know that I did that," I said looking down.

"Why are you blushing?" Dylan asks me.

"I'm embarrassed for knowing that you have heard me sing because I don't sing very well," I say.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself, you never let yourself be happy about anything that has to do with you, I don't understand why you are like this all the time. You are an amazing person Cassie." Dylan says.

"Sorry," I say.

"There is no reason for you to say sorry. I just wish that you were more confident in yourself. Is there anything that made you be like this?" he asks. I start to think about how in the eighth grade I started to get depressed and had anxiety I had a friend that I used to tell everything to and she would help me feel better about things. She moved away after that year and even though we promised to keep in touch, I haven't seen or talked to her since the day she moved. I feel so weak for only relying on one person to fix me and help me with the problems that I haven't made a friend since.

"No, there is no reason," I lie. I don't want the one person who seems to care about me to think that I am too weak to do anything in life. Even if I don't understand why he cares.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me. I don't want him to know so I decided to lie.

"I'm just wondering when my mom is going to get home," I say.

"Why do you keep lying?" he asks me. I am confused about how he can tell that I am lying.

"What do you mean, I'm not lying," I say.

"Yes, you are, you lied when I asked you about if there was anything that made you less confident, then lied about what you were thinking about, and you are now lying about not lying. I can't help you with your problems unless you open up to me with them," he says. I start to get angry.

"I'm not a charity case or a project for you to just fix. I don't need your help," I say starting to get frustrated.

"I never said that you were a charity case or a project. You know I didn't have to follow you. And you do need help. If I wasn't there to find you, you could've fallen down the stairs. You were in no shape to be walking on your own. I care about you Cass, that's why I want to help you get better." he says.

"Why do you care so much?" I ask.

"I don't know why I just have this huge urge to take care of you," he said.

"Oh," I say, looking down.

"So, are you going to really tell me why you are so self-conscious about yourself now?" he asks.

"Ok, I don't really know when my anxiety and depression started, but I know when it got worse. I had a friend back in eighth that I would tell everything to. She made my life feel better when I was feeling down about myself. Then she moved, we promised to keep in touch, but we never did." I say.

"What about your other friends?" he asks me.

"What other friends? I was too shy to talk to anyone to make new friends." I explain.

"Oh, well I will make you a promise. You will now have a friend because I am going to be your friend. Deal?" he asks, holding his hand out for me to shake it.

"Deal," I say, shaking his hand.

"Okay, eat up," he says. I nod my head and start to eat. We both sit back and Dylan grabs the remote to turn the T.V. onto The Librarians.

"Is this okay," he asks, referring to the show. I nod my head, yes and we start to watch.

***

Author's Note: 

Okay, so I'm not sure how long this is going to be but it won't be super long. I will try to update as much as I can, but I am going to also start working on my other stories as well. I hope you like this!!!