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It’s as if the bowl of rice is staring back at him.
Charlie takes a quick glance at the wall clock. 7:36 PM. His eyes wander back to the plate in front of him, he grips the fork in his hand a little tighter while examining the way hot steam leaves the serving of white, unseasoned rice.
Nick had dished up Charlie’s portion just moments ago and is now fixing his own, adding sauce, peas and cheese before giving it a good stir. When Nick sits at the table he sets down his own plate, a small bottle of oil and a bag of grated parmesan cheese with a teaspoon sitting inside, cold right out of the fridge.
“Thank you’’ Charlie mutters, his voice is small and Nick gives him a smile as he picks up a spoon with his right hand and sets the left on the table, just in case Charlie wants to hold it. Nick must have noticed the way he was looking at his plate and clutching his fork.
With a deep sigh, Charlie actually goes to scoop his plain white rice, but the motion turns into him just spreading it inside the plate. He spreads it in circular motions just to divide it into two equal halves and glances at the oil and cheese in front of him. He knows Nick is watching and he quite honestly can’t rationally complain about it either. He is sitting right in front of Charlie, no television on or cellphone in hand he could direct his attention to even if he wanted, and Charlie is pretty confident he doesn’t want to, Nick is always serious about monitoring him.
Monitoring, yeah. Charlie remembers the reason Nick is there in the first place. His parents and little brother had to leave town for a couple days to get him a particular health check-up and his sister was out on a date with Michael to celebrate their first month together. It had taken quite a bit of begging to convince Tori it would not be an awful idea to leave Charlie with Nick during mealtime again after what happened back in January, but Nick had sworn he would have rather cut off his own balls with a kitchen knife than let anything like that happen again, even if he got angry, even if he got so furious he ended up bending whatever metal utensil he was using, he would stay with Charlie. And, after all, Charlie was better.
Yeah, better.
The word leaves a bittersweet taste on Charlie’s tongue. He was better, right? He had to be. He was genuinely trying. Sitting at the dining table everyday even if all he wanted to do was lock himself in his room, taking apart his meals, cutting up his portion of food into even smaller and equal bites before slowly but surely introducing the food in his mouth and giving his family a smile when they congratulate him after finishing his plate, even if the feeling of fullness in his stomach made him want to scratch out his insides. Because that’s what he was, a freak who needed to be congratulated after finishing a plate of spaghetti. But that didn’t matter, because he was better.
But then why couldn’t he even add a drizzle of oil to the plate of rice in front of him?
Charlie had always loved rice, he had always been a particularly picky kid and whenever nothing either of his parents cooked seemed appetising to him, they would give him a plate of white rice. It was delightful, and never really bland since he had free choice, control, over the condiments, and he liked it. Charlie loves rice, it reminds him of his childhood, but right now the white grains staring at him from his plate aren’t comforting, just scary.
Scary, huh. Being able to put a name on the way he was feeling, and said name being fear made Charlie fully realise how powerless he really was. What normal person feels outright fear at the prospect of eating a bowl of plain, unseasoned rice? Who else feels tears prick at the side of their eyes just looking at food? It wasn’t normal. He wasn’t normal.
He wishes rice wasn’t so scary.
A faint touch to his shoulders brings Charlie back to reality.
“Okay?’’ Nick asks, leaning over the table. He’s still holding his spoon with his right hand while his left thumb gently strokes Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie nods, silent, small, and Nick’s left hand moves from his shoulder, down Charlie’s arm to take his hand and place it on the table. They are holding hands across the table now and had this been a family dinner, Charlie’s mum would already be yelling about manners, but it wasn’t, so Nick just glances at Charlie’s plate where the rice is now divided in eight different sections, and waits for him to finally take a bite.
Charlie feels both like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders, with Nick’s hand gently holding his, and that burden upon him had been doubled. The attention is on him, Nick is looking at him, waiting for him to just get over it and eat.
He lets the fork go to reach for the cheese without having to let go of Nick’s hand. One, two, three tablespoons of parmesan fall in his bowl, Charlie picks the fork back up and begins stirring the rice. The cheese is barely melting, his plate must have gone cold.
The tears are back. Welling up behind his eyes, Charlie feels so, so powerless, and hungry. He feels a low grumble coming from his stomach and it makes him sick.
Why was he hungry? Charlie thinks back to his morning, more specifically to the green apple and bowl of yoghurt and cereal he had managed to finish, he thinks of the gentle smile Tori had given him while he was putting the empty bowl and dirty spoon in the sink, one of the smiles she reserves for him. He thinks back to lunchtime, how he had let his boyfriend feed him his sandwich and baby carrots and just a few crisps while Tao fake gagged and despite his fake outrage he still gently squeezed Charlie’s shoulder and rubbed his back once Nick had finished feeding him all the contents of his lunchbox. That was far, far more food than he would have even been able to think about eating just a few months ago. He was never hungry then, so why was he hungry now?
Nick must notice his breathing becoming frantic, because he’s suddenly squeezing Charlie’s hand and when Charlie finally looks up from his plate, eyes glassy, he sees the look of utter worry on his boyfriend’s face and that alone may just break the well and make him start sobbing. He hates worrying Nick.
“Are you okay, love?’’ the term of endearment slips so easily off Nick’s tongue, like it’s second nature and it makes Charlie’s lips wobble as he shakes his head no and eventually lets out a sob he had been trying to suppress.
Nick is out of his seat in seconds. Before Charlie can even realise it, Nick is on his knees, in front of him and hugging Charlie to his chest. Nick’s hand is massaging his scalp as he sobs, finally letting himself sob, on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
They stay like that for a while, Charlie sniffing, body shook by hiccups as Nick holds him and tries soothing him. Eventually, Charlie runs out of energy to cry too and detaches himself from the boy’s shoulder. He cringes a little, noticing the wet spot he had left on Nick’s shirt.
Nick sits back on his knees and takes both of Charlie’s hands in his own “You wanna tell me what goes through that pretty head?’’ and the phrase does get a small giggle out of Charlie, he’s got to give his boyfriend that.
“I’m…’’ Charlie starts and realises his throat is dry. He gulps and glances at his discarded plate. The rice is cold. “I’m so hungry.’’ and a sob shakes his entire body again.
Nick is pulling him out of his chair, hands holding Charlie as he sits on his boyfriend’s lap and now they are both on the floor, Charlie crying about being hungry and hating his stupid body for being hungry when he didn’t want to be and Nick cupping his face with so much tenderness it made Charlie feel fragile, like he was made of glass and needed to be handled carefully. Which, honestly, wasn’t exactly a lie.
“Oh, Char, love , no, no, no’’ Nick was whispering against his lip and he was desperate, but he was also good at masking it and it made Charlie want to disappear, curl up in a ball on the floor and never get up again. “You deserve food, you are allowed to be hungry.’’ and those words feel like somebody just dunked a whole bucket of icy water on top of his head.
It wasn’t something he hadn’t already heard over and over again, from Geoff, Tao, Tori, heck even Nick himself, but maybe those were the exact words he needed to hear in that moment, because he nods his head and tries to dry his cheeks with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, or at least he tries to, since Nick is suddenly attacking his face with tiny quick pecks.
He deserves to eat. He is allowed to be hungry. Yeah.
“Well, I think that won’t do anymore’’ Nick says pointing at the plate of cold rice on the table. Charlie nods. “You said you’re hungry, mh? Maybe we can order in? Use the emergency credit card mum trusted me with? Or I could make you something else?’’
Charlie smiles and thinks for a moment. “Uhm, maybe we could share some fish and chips?’’ and he knows the choice didn’t make sense, because his choice was much, much more caloric than a plate of white rice, but fish and chips reminded him of his first date ever with Nick. Fish and chips was safe.
“Alright.’’ Nick gives him the sweetest, loveliest smile before reaching for his phone, Charlie still sitting on his lap, both of them still on the floor.
Charlie thinks he really couldn’t have got any luckier as he plays with a strand of his boyfriend’s hair and Nick calls to place their order. One sharebox.