𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕤

𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪-𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣

(TW: disordered eating)

The next few days, the only thing that's on my mind is the date. It never occurred to me that I'd have to eat in front of them. I mean, we're going to a damn diner. So that's what I spend my morning stressing about.

And before I know it, it's time. I look at myself in the mirror to make sure I don't look like a slob. I'm wearing one of those button-ups with the 80s pattern on them tucked into white jeans. I pair it with a dark belt, as well as, of course, my binder. I've definitely been binding for too long, but I don't care. They don't need to know. I fluff my hair and put on some cologne.

"It be ok..." I tell myself as the doorbell rings. When I open it, Albert throws me into a huge hug. He's dressed like a misremembered 80s protagonist. Though, that's how he always dresses. We walk together to his car. He hasn't picked up Spot yet, which gives me the opportunity to ride in the passengers seat this time.

It isn't long before we pick up Spot and head to the diner. I've been mentally preparing myself for hours, but I'm not sure if I can do it. My hand is on the locket again as we walk in the doors.

It's a nice building with only a few people in it. The waitress leads us to a booth. As soon as I sit down, both of them try to get into the seat next to me. I smile as they fight, playfully, over who gets to sit next to me. Putting my head in my arms, my face flushes with color. Albert ends up winning and he sits next to me triumphantly.

A few minutes later, the waitress comes back with our drinks, and takes our order. I order the smallest and least expensive thing on the menu. Spot and Albert don't seem to notice.  Turning my head, the arcade across the street catches my eye. The flashing lights in the outside completely mesmerize me. I don't even notice Spot taking a photo.

The waitress comes back with our meals, and this is when I want to puke. You can do it, Antonio. Just breathe. I take small bites with long pauses in between. I'm snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of Spot slamming his arm on the table like one of those plastic dividers at the grocery store.

"I just wanted a damn fry-" Albert laughs. I look at my own plate.

"You can have mine. I won't eat them." Albert face falls.

"Toni, you've barely touched your food..." Here we go. Fuck. "Are you feeling alright?" I nod, not wanting to have this discussion. Spot and Albert exchange a glance. They've both finished their food. This is fucking embarrassing.

"Um..I'm gonna...go to the bathroom..." Albert doesn't get up.

"We can see right through you, Antonio." Spot says. I sigh, putting my head back in my arms. "If we take a bite together, will that help?"

"Don't stuff yourself, though." Albert adds. I lift my head up, staring at the food, before nodding.

And the plate is gone before I know it. They are most of it, but I ate a lot more than I usually do. Their patience actually helped me. I put money in the middle of the table to pay for my meal, but Spot stops me, pulling out his credit card.

"It's on me."

Guilt floods me. Yes, I got the cheapest thing on the menu, but having someone pay for me makes me feel like shit. We leave the diner and get ready for the arcade. Hopefully this goes better than the diner did.