"So I had it beat. I had friends, a boyfriend, I had gotten into the college I wanted, and I even had it all paid for. I was loved by every single person in my family and nothing else mattered.

"Then he dumped me.

"Suddenly, what people said about my figure or my body didn't matter any more, and I was weighing myself every day. I must have ate a little too much one night and I woke up one morning to discover that I had gained five pounds."

There were a few nods of understanding throughout the room.

"I just froze. Staring at the scale for what probably could have been five minutes. I stepped off and then got back on, expecting the results to be different and they were. Only this time, it showed that I had gained six pounds in one night.

"I-I freaked out. I got my gym clothes on and went on one of my favorite routes. I had finally got to the point where I enjoyed running again. I was running no more than about four miles in a day but this wasn't enjoyable in the least. In fact, it was painful. My body felt fine, but every inch of my being was pushing me to go further. I could go as far and fast as I could but it just wasn't enough.

"I finally got done with the run and started walking back up to the house. 'I can run the route every night this week, that'll get me back where I need to be,' I thought.

"But as I reached for the doorknob, I had another idea. 'Why don't I start training for a marathon? Marathoner's run almost every day and a ton of them run a ton more than just four miles in a day.'

"I then remembered a few running forums I used to look through and I remembered one guy posted about how much is too much running. Most of the advice said something like 'Well, if you feel fine, than you're fine. If things start getting too sore or you feel like you're straining something, take a break.' It was one of those 'Listen to Your Body' advices but it seemed to be completely lost on me. I did a quick constitution mental check. I felt fine. Yeah, I was breathing hard, but I had just got done running four miles at a pretty good speed. Everything else felt fine.

"So I went inside, refilled up my bottle with water, and got back outside before I could get too comfortable in the house. I waved to the neighbors and took off for one of my other routes. Just two miles, didn't want to break something.

"When I got back, my older neighbor came over to talk to me.

"'My, you sure are running a lot today, sweetie,' she said. 'Hope you're not doing that every day.

"I shook my head laughing. I felt great, what what was she to know.

"I'm actually thinking of trying a marathon,' and with that, my fate was sealed.

"I continued to run, and my neighbor continued to cheer me on.

"I met my new boyfriend in one of the marathon's I did and things started looking up again. I had worth. I was wanted. And all I had to do was keep running."

She stopped. A tear fell from her face and she snatched it away, trying to be strong in front of everyone. Don't know why, this is SUPPOSED to be a place where people can show their weaknesses.

"So I kept running. It started seeping into every part of my life. The food I ate started mattering a lot more, almost as much as it did when I was in high school. I became weaker. Even though I was able to run ten miles in a day, I was sleeping so much and it was affecting everything. It-It just. . . I wouldn't call it a complete relapse, but it was enough to tip my boyfriend off. One day, I just got fed up and spilled my guts to him. I told him about my ED growing up and, bless him, he did everything that was possible to help me out.

". . . And that's how I ended up here," she said looking up to the lights. Her burning tears accenting her crystal blue eyes and letting the mascara fall from them with enough beauty to make De Vinci gasp.

I hated her.

Almost the entire group got up to hug her. She acted like she didn't want it at first but her defenses finally broke and the water damns came down with it. She wailed and wailed her suffering to the room and they accepted her suffering with glee. Because a burden shared is a burden halved, or something like that. But if everyone is sharing it, than it just averages out in the end.

I smirked a little bit at the logic.

"Something funny?"

Fuck. THIS BITCH.

"No, I was just thinking about something from earlier."

"The joker speaks!"

The counselor reluctantly saw the conflict and tried to intervine. Hate to spoil her momentary break through with one of her new clients. "Clare-"

"No!" Clare yelled to the entire building. Good thing it was late and all the business-folk were home with their happy families. "I'm tired of this little shit!"

I took in a deep breath and waited for the burrage.

"He's been coming here for, what? A month!? He doesn't say a fucking word unless we drag it out of him and then he gets this shit-eating smirk all the fucking time. You know what? I'm going to say it."

I arch my eyebrows because I obviously have absolutely no clue what's coming. You can imagine my inner mind with a comical shocked face as it awaits what's coming.

"Clare! Stop this-"

"No! I'm going to say what everyone's thinking!"

Oh, jeez. Oh no. Oh, god. What am I ever going to do? People telling me what they think of me?? That's like, insane, dude.

"You're a waste. A waste of everyone's time and all you're doing is poisoning the environment by being here. I have no idea what you're here for, and honestly, I don't care. But whatever it is, you're going to die from it because you have no aspiration to fix yourself or anything else in your life."

She took a step towards me.

"You're a punk. A punk who laughs at other people's pain and suffering because you have nothing else to genuinly laugh at in your life. You're dying a mental death, or you probably died a long time ago and now you're body is desperately trying to catch up."

She took another step.

"You're a loser."

Step.

"A creep."

Step.

Her next foot came sideways and kicked my folding chair in, sending me to the floor.

"Clare! Stop right now or you're not welcome here anymore!"

I felt pain. I guess that's one of the things about being underweight, I didn't really have any cushion when I took a hit.

Looking up, I could see Clare. Yet another beautiful woman who found a reason to have a problem with her weight, food, body, or whatever else because she couldn't accept the good in her life.

"Fine," she said as she straddled her feet over me. If she was wearing a skirt, I probably would have seen her panties. "I'm okay with that."

"Clare!" The councilor obviously wanted to do something but she wasn't allowed to touch her patients. Everyone else? They most likely felt the way Clare did.

She squatted down to where her face was inches from mine and her brunette hair grazed my face. Her hazel eyes burned with anger which strangely made them look like they were on fire.

In another life, I may have looked like her.

"Because," she continued. "I think I'm done here. I've said my grief, I've gained my health, body image, and sanity back. And that's something you'll never have."

I wanted to crack a joke. Something along how her definition of sanity may be different than everyone else's here. I couldn't however.

I felt my eyes start to burn and for a split second, I felt human. Cry! C'mon, just a single tear!

It didn't come though. Feeling anything at all has been an effort since puberty.

Clare stood up, not taking her eyes off of me. She made her way to her chair to collect her things.

"Clare," the doctor began. "I'm sorry but you can't come back here anymore."

Clare threw her purse over her shoulder, approached the counselor, and wrapped her in a hug.

"I know," she said. "Thank you for everything."

She leaned out of her hug and wiped the residue of tears from her face. "I was going to say that the next meeting would be my last when we wrapped everything up, but I got carried away with the punk."

Everyone suddenly seemed sad. My small time here, I know she's been one of the cool kids on the block. A women who had bulimia, much like myself, but bounced back. Hard. She started lifting weights, eating around 2500 calories in a day, and became not some skinny high school girl, but a woman. At 5'7'', you wouldn't guess she weighed 155 pounds by the way she looked. Of course, her view of health had dramatically shifted compared to where she was a few years ago. It gave the other girl's something to strive for, looking at her.

She gave everyone else in the group a hug and then, wiping her tears one last time, made her way back to me. She looked pissed again.

I felt my stomach twist as she approached. I may have the anatomy of a guy and be 5'10'', but I weighed 140 pounds and couldn't hold a stick against her if she wanted to kick my ass. I imagine this is what it felt like for a lioness to stock me down.

She reached into her purse before as she walked up to me and started fumbling around inside. Being optimistic, I figured it was either a gun or knife.

She pulled out a card and handed it out to me as she walked up.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away."

I just looked at her.

". . . Okay, I'm not sorry. You deserve to get your ass kicked at times."

"Clare! -"

"I'm going! One second." She looked back at me, "If you ever get serious about wanting to get better, or you know-" She took a deep breath, as if she was regretting what she's about to say- "just want to talk, give me a call."

I took the card and put it in my pocket. I can throw it away later.

"You're not hopeless," was the last thing she mumbled as she walked to the door.

As she opened it and left, I saw my best friend stick his head in.

"Oh, HAAY!" Tayler said in the most cheerfully flamboyant way possible before slipping on a comical frown. "Everything dandy in here? It sounded like a boxing match was about to start from the hallway."

A few of the girls laughed at the presence of my better looking friend. Granted, he was like 5'6'' and managed to weigh less than me. He was also a pretty boy rather than "handsome". What I would do for a body like his. Of course, a women's body would be ideal, but I wouldn't mind too much if I simply just had a better foundation to work with.

He winked at them, causing some to blush. It's kind of out of character for him, but he just says it's because the girls here need a confidence boost. Of course, that's just a testament that he doesn't get what everyone here is going through, but he's trying so what can I do about it.

The good doctor laughed at his joke and the tension of the room evaporated. How he does it? I have no idea. He's just born with something special that no one else has.

"Good to see you Tayler. Yes, it was a little wild earlier but I think we're all going to be alright for now." Everyone started packing up their things as more people became aware of the clock on the wall. "However, if it's alright with you, is it okay if James could stay for a while. I would like to have just a few words with him."

I groaned inwardly. Something, somewhere, got the signal and sent in a hail marry.

"Actually Dr. Reed, I need to drop him off pretty quickly. My parents are expecting me home to help out with some baking for tomorrow."

Thank you. Thank you, you flamboyant miracle man.

"Is it cool if I just drop him off early next week before everyone gets here?"

Damn.

Dr. Reed looked like she was thinking hard on it as everyone started edging towards the door. Usually we have a debriefing each week where we talk about some of our accomplishments and something we could improve on. Sometimes there's an activity, or "homework", that Dr. Reed would assign for us to do throughout the week. Due to the final activity with Clare and me, I don't think we have time for the usual.

"Well," she threw up her arms in surrender. "I think that would just work perfectly. About 6:30 next week?"

Tayler flashed a smile in agreement, I gave her a reluctant thumbs up, and I bolted for the door.

We walked outside of the building to the nearly empty parking lot. Usually Tayler parks closer, but he's way off to the side this time. Who cares. Or is it "whom cares". . . Why am I thinking this? Who cares.

We got to his truck, threw my stuff in the back, and hopped in.

He didn't start it.

"Soooooooo," he drawled out while he played with his keys. "I heard what that one chick said to you."

Damn.

"Want to talk about it?"

I took a breath. "No."

"Dude, I'm just sayin'." he started the truck and got the heater fixed up, but he wasn't putting the car in drive. "If someone verbally assaulted my soul like that, I would probably either tell someone what was going on in my head or let it fester and kill off all mental activity for the next few days."

A burden shared. . . Although, unlike all the girls inside, he could probably be comfortable carrying some else's pain. Even if I don't let him in on my life nearly as much as we were kids, what's the harm in giving a little?

"Fine. I've got an ED, I'm stuck with a bunch of girls that I can't connect with at all, and I don't even feel like it's that bad to begin with."

"You got sick," he said as he started to drive me home.

"It was a cold. It was almost freezing outside and I got a cold. Nothing really that serious."

"It happened right after I caught you in the bathroom."

"I do it once a day. Once. Looking it up online, some girls go 4-6 times a day. I only do it after lunch. I've got it completely under control and I brush my teeth after each time." Granted, there was a time when I used to do it three times a day after every meal but my life got too busy where I couldn't afford the time to be quite as bulimic.

"But, you don't need to do it at all," he reasoned. "You can gain a few pounds. Heck you could gain a hundred pounds and look fine."

You just don't get it. . .

And now, I'm sick of it. "You don't get it."

"Buddy, please. What don't I get? Just tell me something and I can help. You know I would do anything for you"

No you can't. No one can. This secret has to die with me.

I let out a sigh to tell him I wasn't willing to talk about it anymore and he let out a sigh in return to say that he got the message.

"I'm hungry!" he screamed to the entire truck. "OOOOOOO! Pizza Hut!"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help a small smile. He's not hungry at all, he just wants to pry some more.

. . . And to make sure I'll eat something, I realized as we were pulling into the parking lot. He'll make me eat a lot and keep me long enough to where he knows it's worked in the digestive system. I've heard some of the girls in the group mention that their friends do that.

Oh well, I could just skip breakfast tomorrow.

We walked inside and the buffet was just closing up.

"Oh, maaaan!" Tayler yelled as he snapped his fingers. "James, what do you want?"

Nothing. "Meat Market."

"One large Meat Market, please!" He gleefully exclaimed to the cashier. She obviously couldn't help but grin from his enthusiasm. "And two large Cokes. Well, diet for my friend here," he said as he elbowed me.

After growing up with James, you just get used to it after a while. "I'll take a regular Coke as well".

We gathered our drinks, sat at a booth, and started talking about the nothingness of the day. It's "nothingness" because not much is going on at all. Cross country season, which we both do, is over and the preseason for soccer and basketball haven't started up yet. Tayler does soccer and I do basketball. They're going to start making us lift weights this year but I feel like I can get away by just failing on a bunch of reps. When you're good at sinking buckets, you don't really have to lift that much for the coaches to be happy. Heck, Kevin Durant couldn't even bench 225 pounds once when he was first drafted into the NBA. He got better later on, but it didn't hinder him from being picked first.

Besides, any weight I would gain can be offset by hormones. I turn 16 in a few months, which means I can get my own post office box, which means I can get my own hormones from overseas. Just the T-killers. Dad would freak out if I started growing boobs and I'd probably get kicked out of the house.

"You paying attention?"

"Hm?"

"Yeeeah, thought so," he said as he sipped his Coke. "I asked if you were going to get the new Pokemon game when it comes out."

"Nah, they're all starting to blend together now. I think that's the first sign of growing out of something."

Tayler's eye got wide. He almost spilled his drink as he lifted it to cup his face in shock, but he realized in time. "Whaaa? Bro, please - thank you!" The pizza lady came with the pizza and he delved in. I looked at the stack of red meat that spelled my doom. I'm not a vegetarian, but knowing that red meat increases testosterone a small bit is enough to make me want to try one of these days. Maybe when New Years comes around.

I took a single slice and he looked glum at me. "Dude, you're getting a single piece too."

"Is that a challenge?"

"I don't have the metabolism you do, you know I'm not used to eating this much."

"Fine. I'll eat slow and you match my pace."

Sigh. I've been doing that a lot these days.

"So, then. . ." He didn't say anything after that. He just kept eating and looking around. We were silent for a minute. Then five. We've made it through the second slice. I was tempted to pull out my phone and check my facebook, but I was too avid on how rude that was.

This is weird. We don't normally have awkward silences.

He gulped down the last of his coke, grabbed mine, and headed over for a refill. He looked like he was taking his time a little too much, which was slightly out of characteristic for him too.

"So then," he said as he returned with the refill. "I was looking up some more stuff about - well, you - and it said that your condition is normally caused by something traumatic or a sense of worthlessness to other people."

I miss the silence. "Yeah, something like that."

"Do you want to talk about it-"

"I don't want to-"

"You don't want to talk about it, but I do." He took a deep breath, like he was the one in a stressful situation instead of me.

"I want to know, James," he mumbled as he stared at the table. A small tear started rolling down his cheek.

Not again. I can't keep being around this stuff all the time.

Although it was different when your best friend from childhood was the one in pain because of you.

Another silence worked it's way over us as we worked through our food. I was too stuffed to continue, but if Tayler could keep doing it than I could try. Maybe I won't eat at all tomorrow.

"Was it a single event?"

I shook my head. I'll give him a little, just enough to ease his consciousness.

"So it's like a sense of worthlessness?"

I shook my head again.

He sighed again and took another sip. Suddenly, he threw back the whole drink like they do in the movies, and slammed the glass down as he smacked his lips.

"Okay, James. Buddy, oh pal. Pal of mine who is the best bud ever."

Well. . . This is weird. Even for him.

"I love you the most out of anyone, ever. You're my favorite person in the whole world, so I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do."

Is he drunk?

"We're going to do an eye for an eye. You know what that means?"

I nodded, but I had no idea what he was doing with this.

"You're going to tell me what's going on. What's REALLY going on. . ." He moved his hand the wrong way and knocked over his empty cup.

"Shit!" He grabbed it with shaky hands and set it back up right. Then he pushed it off to the side where he wouldn't hit it again.

His hands are shaking, I thought to myself. He's nervous as fuck right now.

I looked down at my hands and I could see that I was starting to shake too. I would have thought how Tayler's attitude is contagious no matter what mood he's in, but it seemed inappropriate at the moment.

"You're going to tell me what's really going on. . . And I'll tell you something about me that might be equally as bad."

Okay. I could just give him a little bit more. Maybe mention how my mother randomly stopped contacting me earlier in the school year or how my dad's alcoholism has been increasing a little bit. But Tayler already knew those things.

I'm gay? Maybe that would work.

But I'm not. Well, not in the MSM way. I don't like guys in the slightest. I could probably fake it, but eventually he may wonder why I don't have a boyfriend.

Plus, James comes from a really religious background. Even if he acts flamboyant, his parents aren't the most understanding people, even if the do think they are alleys. He might think I would come on to him and slowly distance himself from me.

I took a sip from my drink. Let's just roll with it and see where it leads.

"You first. What's your deepest, darkest secret?"

His eyes glazed over with mist and he put his hands under the desk to hide the shaking. I looked directly into his eyes, but he immediatly looked down as I did.

Who is this person? Where's the confidence I've known and loved? Granted, he's not always on his A-game, but this is the absolute worst I've ever seen him. Hell, probably the worst anyone has ever seen him. This is the guy who smiled and joked through the entire experience of getting his wisdom teeth taken out.

Unless. . .

I took a stab at it. "Are you gay?"

He jumped at the word and held his breath.

Then another silence.

"Nnnnnooooo. . . I'm not gay." He looked nervously around the room like he was waiting for someone to pounce on him. However, there's no one here but us and the working staff and they were too busy in the back kitchen.

"I am bi, though." A few tears fell from his face and he flashed a sad smile at me. Who ever heard of a sad smile?

It didn't mean anything to me. The way he acts? Yeah, I know we're not supposed to stereotype but he is pretty homo. Except for the dress. He still dresses like a straight guy. However, with his family background, I could see how this would be a huge deal for him.

I got up out of the booth and I could see his life flash before his eyes. I walked over to his side of the booth and scootched in next to him and he gained his breath again.

He probably thought I was going to leave him.

I picked up his hands, held them and looked into his eyes. "You're my best friend, alright?" I said. "Short of rape and mass genocide, nothing you do will change that."

Then I wrapped him in a hug. He's always been there for me, it only seems fair if I'm there the few times he needs the favor returned.

"Y-you mean that!?" He said between a sob.

I closed my eyes and hugged him harder.

"Always."

He took a few more deep breaths while I held him. With his size compared to mine, it's almost like holding -

"d gl" I heard, muffled into my shoulder.

"What?"

I felt him squeeze me harder.

"I'm a girl."

. . . . . . . . . . "What?" I didn't shout, but -

He suddenly leaned away from me to where I could look at him better. He was staring at my shoulder and as pale as the moon.

"I'm a girl," he said as he looked up and stared into my eyes as if he was trying to read my soul.

"I'm a transsexual."

________________________________________

First time posting one of my stories. I keep getting these ideas at times and I can write forever when I'm going but after a while I lose interest or get distracted from other things in life. In order to beat that, I'm posting online in order to get more feedback and (hopefully) finish a story.

Since I'm new: HI! I'm TidBit! This is a light story idea I got yesterday and I feel like I can finish it fairly easily.

I hope you guys like my writing :)