Chapter Text
Donovan's POV
Brad keeps getting on my nerves, and I'm starting to think it's on purpose.
I go to get a bag of chips from the pantry when I hear a voice behind me.
"Do you ever exercise?"
"Do you ever get off my ass?" I snap.
"Watch your mouth, or I'll tell your father."
That's his go-to now. He'll tell my mom, and she'll cry and make me feel bad. He'll tell my dad, and he'll yell and make me feel bad.
It's a lose-lose situation.
Well, I guess it's a win-lose situation. Brad's the only one allowed to win in this house, it seems.
"I'm just saying you need to lose some weight, kid." He pokes my stomach. "In the Corps, you have to stay fit. Being fat isn't acceptable."
There it is. It always leads back to the Corps. I don't even eat a lot. Sure, I have a bit of belly fat, but I know my parents are struggling with money. I'm not going to eat everything in the goddamn fridge. Plus, it's 3pm, and all I've eaten today is a bowl of cereal.
Still, that bag of chips doesn't sound too appetizing now.
◇◇◇
The next day is Monday. It was hard to fall asleep last night, and by the time I woke up, I couldn't eat breakfast at home.
The school usually lets us get free breakfast, but the substitute bus driver made us 15 minutes late.
10 minutes after breakfast ended.
I'm starving.
Fortunately, Daniel Nussbaum snuck me some cookies his younger sister made over the weekend.
But even after that, my stomach growls the whole day until lunch.
Of course, I tell the Daniels about the Brad problem.
Of course, they laugh at my misery.
"Dude, you're hopeless," Nussbaum says between chuckles. "It's not our fault you're such a pushover, man," Sanderson adds.
I push Sanderson off his seat, which makes them laugh harder, which makes me laugh.
Fortunately, I finish my lunch in time.
Unfortunately, my stomach starts growling in 7th period.
◇◇◇
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I take a bus to the Academy for the robotics team.
I don't actually do much there since I'm just the driver.
And everyone else does the actual work.
Because they're smarter than me.
Because they're more important than me.
Because they're better at that stuff than me.
Because they're better than me.
I can feel my eyes water, but I blink the tears back.
I hate crying.
It makes me feel weak.
And I'm not weak.
~~~
Abigail's POV
When Donovan walks through the door, I freeze.
Not because I hate him.
Well, I do, but I don't freeze because of that.
He looks horrible. Like he's been beaten up by the embodiment of life.
There's bags under his eyes, he has to lean on something to support himself, and he keeps clutching at his stomach.
Everyone notices, but no one says a thing.
Just like me.
I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, but before I leave, I stop in front of Donovan.
"What do you want, Abby?" He asks, dripping with disdain.
I hate the name Abby, and he knows it, so I end up just calling him a jerk and walk out.
I couldn't help but hear a low growling from his stomach as he spoke.
I don't know what came over me, but as I'm walking back to the classroom, I can't help but stop at the vending machine.
I get a candy bar for me and Chloe. And a bag of chips for Donovan.
There. I can blame Chloe for my concern.
When I reach the classroom, everyone is yelling.
Correction: everyone except Donovan.
Correction: everyone is yelling at Donovan.
"What is going on!?" I yell, but only Oz hears me over the noise.
"Donovan knocked over Heavy Metal and bent his arm," Oz grumbles as he tries to bend the metal back into place.
All of a sudden, I join the small crowd around Donovan.
I can't believe I wasted money on this bastard.
I'm the last one to start yelling.
When I get to the front and get a good look at Donovan, I'm the first one to stop.
He's crying.
~~~
Chloe's POV
I have no idea what to do. None of us do.
I stopped yelling when Abigail did. And everyone else did when we noticed tears falling down Donovan's face.
Everything went from loud as hell to so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
The only sound we hear is Donovan's crying.
He tries to cover his face and wipe the tears at the same time, but he's failing miserably.
Between sobs, he whispers to himself, begging the tears to stop.
It takes me about a minute to move.
I never had to help comfort someone, but from my nanny's experience with me, I decide to go for a hug.
As soon as I ring my arms around him, Donovan grabs onto me like a lifeline and muffles his crys in my shoulder.
We slowly fall to the floor. Donovan had been shaky the whole time, so it's not surprising his legs weren't able to support himself in his time of need.
He tries to pick himself up, only for him to trip over himself.
We take him over to a chair near him, and I hear his stomach rumble.
Abigail pulls out a bag of chips and hands it to him. He tries to push it away, but Abigail's persistent.
"I bought it for you. Take it."
He's reluctant but takes the offer this time.
We sit down with Donovan, waiting for him to finish eating and to stop hiccuping.
Finally, he does, so Noah is the first to speak up.
"We're so sorry, Donovan. We knew something was wrong. We shouldn't have gotten mad at you. It was an honest mistake on your part," Noah says softly.
There's a couple of mumbled "yeahs" before everything falls silent again.
I'm too ashamed to face him, so I keep my head down.
"Can I... can I ask you something?"
Surprisingly, it's Jacey talking.
Her voice is extremely quiet, but any louder would've caused an echo.
"What happened? You're clearly hungry, and you seem very tired. What's going on?"
I finally turn towards Donovan and find he's looking downwards.
"It's just... um... i-it... well," he stutters while trying to find the right words.
He sighs. "It's long... and complicated. It's just gonna be a load of word vomit."
"Well then, word vomit away," Oz reassures him.
So he does.
I didn't realize just how bad things were getting.
His parents struggle to feed six people, plus two dogs. Brad making him feel like shit. The trouble with sleep. His friend's lack of compassion.
Worst of all, he's not blaming any of them for his problems. He's blaming himself.
"... and I don't know. I guess everyone yelling made me realize what a complete fuck up I am, and-" he stops himself midsentence and tries to walk out of the door.
We do our best to stop him, and realize he's crying again.
"I'm sorry, guys. I'm so, so sorry," he sobs. "I know I'm a complete screw up! You don't need to keep me around-"
We all collectively shush him and bring him into a group hug.
"Donnie..." Noah whispers. "Please don't talk like that. We want you around. We love you. You're not a screw up. You're just a human being, just like us."
"And none of this is your fault," I add. People are making you feel bad. Not the other way around."
He sniffles and brings his head up to look at us.
There's a hint of a smile as he says, "Thanks, guys."
"How about I order something, huh?" Oz says. "You guys can pick whatever you want."
We're all down for it (I mean, it's free food) but we turn to Donovan for our answer.
He looks up at the teacher and slowly nods.
The food gets here and we all chatter while eating.
Donovan is the only one silent, but we don't mind. He's smiling while enjoying the food.
On the bus ride back home, Donovan sits next to Noah, who keeps blabbering on about the latest YouTube video he watched.
Eventually, the smaller boy's voice goes quiet. When Abigail and I look over, we see Donovan snoring softly on Noah's shoulder as the awake one's scrolling away on his phone.
He looks over at us and puts a finger over his mouth.
We do the same.
We'll wake him up later.