Work Text:
"I'm gonna be right back.” Aiden stood up from his chair, drawing the attention of everyone at his table. His friends stared him down, mostly confused, as he flashed a bigger smile than usual. Nobody commented when it didn’t fully reach his eyes, that wasn't unusual. The others responded with various nods, 'okay's, and others nothing at all. They’d already gone back to pretending he didn’t exist apparently, and paid no mind as he pushed in his chair and walked away. Outside the cafeteria doors. Beeline to the bathroom.
Looks from recognising students got passed his way, easily deflected with his slightly smaller, steady smile. Usual chatter had gotten duller as he made his way down the halls. Few people remained in sight before he entered the small bathroom. It was crowded with stalls and dimly lit. A fake plant lingered in one corner, he could smell some sort of drug soaked into the walls.
Only his own footsteps took up the space, this bathroom was less popular than the other in school. The sound bounced off the walls with a burst, if Ash were here he'd probably feel sorry for her.
He pushed open a stall harshly, walking in and wincing slightly when it emitted a screech to close. The lock clicked to its side. A long strand of toilet paper got placed in-front of him, to prevent backsplash.
In a few seconds he was on his knees, grabbing a side of the toilet bowl, other hand rising to meet his mouth.
Gentle, practised fingers pressed intently against the back of his throat. Not long after he felt the contents of his stomach empty into the toilet. Slick vomit poured out of him, shaking his body yet still begging for more. For a few seconds he felt like a busted sewerage pipe. Somehow this had to be both his most and least favourite part.
Coughing a few times, he wiped his face out of habit, sweat mixing onto both surfaces, before going in again. Pain crept into his mouth and ate away at his throat. Every repetition felt like he was hacking daggers. Hopefully his teeth were having a better time. This process repeated once more, until he was absolutely sure his stomach was empty, eventually upchucking bile. Now his brain was fuzzy, thoughts racing. He eventually took to lean back on shaky knees, feeling sweat start to form in various places. Vomit plastered his lips and chin. If anyone saw him right now, they mightn't even recognise the boy.
A sudden small sound took him out of his trance, and he froze completely still. Hair stuck to his cheeks from how he whipped his head around. Whatever that was might have been something in the pipes, but he was still terrified. After waiting a little longer with luckily no signs of life, the traces of sour acid in his mouth got hacked and spit out quietly. He wrapped up as quick as comfortable.
The chunky, yellowish liquid quickly got flushed, swirling away as Aiden waited a few moments more, listening for anyone. Anything. Nothing came.
He slowly unlocked the door of his stall, peeking out subtly before rushing over to the towel dispenser. A few fell out with some respectable tugs, he slowed slightly when wetting them and wiping his face down. His mouth also got a rinse out, before he went over and spat into the toilet one last time, dropping the towels in soon after and flushing once again.
If anything, he felt relieved right now. He wasn't hungry, but his stomach was oh so empty. That would probably call for a meal when he got home, he knew that wouldn't keep in him either.
Vigilant ears picked up the smallest of footsteps heading towards the bathroom. Knowing whoever it was could identify him, he swiftly straightened up, wiping his mouth just in case, one last time. Some stranger rounded the corner, looking into Aiden’s eyes as he was bringing his hand away from his face. They parted ways without a word.
Jitters flew through him. Light footsteps tapped against the floor, easy to hear. Less people were in the hallways at this point, most having gone to their destinations already. His torso was stiff as he mimicked a confident walk back, perking up whenever he could bear to. Musty air filled his lungs, leaving behind a sickening, weighted feeling.
The group welcomed him back half-heartedly, giving him a small recap of the conversation he’d missed. Taylor and Ashlyn mostly. For some reason, they still bothered, even though he never listened to anything they said. He’d be distracted by something every time, words flying over his head.
Yet they still cared to tell him. Just as they did everyone else. Like he was an equal.
Mid-ramble Taylor lost her train of thought, and Ashlyn interrupted to continue for her. They spoke like he was interested.
If only he could return the favour. Tell them what he’d been doing. He hates to break their trust, but no way that was ever going to happen.