Page 60 of Ravenous

Tommy let out a long sigh that seemed to come from his soul. “I’ll try? The best I can promise is a day or two. My mom can smell fear.”

“That’s all I can ask.” He nodded at them both. “I need to find Ollie. Thanks, and I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”

Turning, Finn hurried away, following the path he saw Ollie take, and as he passed the center fountain it occurred to him that he’d never introduced himself. He knew their names, but in the chaos he’d forgotten to give his own. It didn’t matter, and he shoved all that aside as he realized that he was heading toward the parking lot. Certainty took over, centering him and letting him know that he was on the right track.

Pushing through the large glass doors, Finn took in a steadying breath of fresh air and strode to his car. Coming to an abrupt halt, he looked around, confused. No Ollie. But he’d been so sure.

A sound, maybe a sniffle, grabbed Finn’s attention. Placing their purchases by the driver’s door, he took slow careful steps, walking around the SUV, and as the passenger side came into view his heart dropped into his stomach.

Huddled against the front right tire, arms around his knees, head down, was Ollie. From the way his shoulders were shaking, he was obviously crying, and Finn resisted the urge to scoop him up and bring him somewhere private. Instead, he approached softly, sitting on the pavement beside Ollie and putting his arm around those quivering shoulders. Ollie froze in response but didn’t lift his head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” With only fingertips, Finn stroked Ollie’s arm and just let him be, staring down anyone who walked by and gawked. They were lucky, for the car beside them was an enormous Suburban and the lot was full all around, so they were easily overlooked.

Ollie’s shoulders eventually stopped shaking and then he was still for so long that Finn started to worry.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled napkin that he’d gotten with their coffees and stuffed it into Ollie’s hand, hoping to bring him back to life. Immediately, Ollie slid it into the cavern he’d created, drying his face.

“Thank you,” he mumbled in a raw broken tone that sunk Finn’s heart even further. Using the arm still around Ollie’s shoulders, Finn drew him into an awkward embrace. Although Ollie barely uncurled, Finn gathered him close anyway, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Can I get you off the ground and bring you somewhere more comfortable?” Finn kept his voice low, even.

“Wh-” Ollie coughed into Finn’s shirt. “Where?”

“Is my place okay?” Finn kissed his head again as Ollie nodded. “Great. Can I get you into the passenger seat?” A moment passed. Then another. “Ollie?” Finn leaned his head down, trying to see Ollie’s face.

“I’m scared.” Briefly, Ollie glanced up at him. There were long dark tracks down his cheeks and deep black circles under his eyes where his makeup had run and he looked so young, so small and terrified, that Finn’s heart rose from where it had plummeted, standing tall and proud even though it was hurting, his protective streak roaring in his ears.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered against Ollie’s curls, holding him tightly. “I’m here now.”

“Here you go.” Finn placed a warm mug of chamomile tea into Ollie’s hands.

“Thank you,” Ollie murmured, sniffing the cup. He hadn’t said anything during the ride, keeping his head down, and once they’d arrived at Finn’s, he’d immediately grabbed his bags and beelined for the bathroom, emerging twenty minutes later clad in a long baggy T-shirt and track pants, his face clean, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed instead of ringed with streaked makeup. After a cursory glance around the living room, he’d curled up in Finn’s recliner, which was the best seat in the house, and Finn had placed a knitted blanket over him. Although Ollie seemed better than he’d been in the parking lot, he was still very subdued, detached, staring into space, so Finn sighed in relief when Ollie took a sip.

Sitting on the end of the sofa next to him, Finn put his own mug on the coffee table. His home was his haven and he rarely had guests, not because he didn’t want to but because he rarely got close enough to people to invite them over. Like his uncle’s cabin, Finn’s townhouse was full of cozy mismatched furniture, with his past across the walls. Framed photos were scattered between band and tennis posters but the wall above the couch held only one thing, his nineteen sixty-five Gibson Thunderbird II bass guitar. It had been his uncle’s and Joe had gifted it to Finn when he’d shown an interest in music, wanting to join a high school band.

Finn never thought he’d have a greater treasure than that instrument, but he was wrong. That title had now shifted to a beam of sunlight that currently occupied Finn’s favorite chair. And Finn couldn’t put things off any longer because he needed to safeguard his treasure, end his hesitation, and find the bravery that Ollie thought he was capable of.

“Sunshine.” Finn put a hand on Ollie’s leg and the expression on his face was so mournful that Finn’s heart dropped again. “Talk to me. Please. Tell me anything you want.”

Leaning over, Ollie put his mug next to Finn’s and then stared off. It seemed like he was looking through the sliding glass doors at the backyard, but Finn could tell Ollie was trying to find the words for something that he’d probably never spoken about. Giving Ollie’s leg a supportive squeeze, Finn nodded with encouragement.

“I guess it’s all out in the open then,” Ollie stated bitterly. Defeated, he lowered his head, staring at Finn’s hand.

“It is. But we both know that I’ve been aware of your relationship with food for a while.” Finn didn’t want to say eating disorder, not yet. It might scare Ollie off.

“My relationship with food?” Ollie echoed, a strange smile on his face. It twisted as his shoulders began to shake again and Finn thought he might be laughing until he took in a sharp breath, his chest heaving with a sob. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Finn.” Tears pooled in his eyes, spilling over, and Ollie wiped them away, putting a hand over his face as he took a shuddering breath. “I can tell it’s getting bad. My head hurts all the time, I’m always cold, and I’m losing my hair.” His voice cracked and he swallowed, dropping his hand, his gaze on the floor as he gathered his thoughts. “I know I have to stop but I’m scared. Things are better when I’m lighter.I’mbetter when I’m lighter.”

“In what way?” Finn wanted to know more, to understand, so he could figure out the best way to help.

“It’s hard to explain. You’re going to think I’m crazy.” Ollie fidgeted, his skittishness surfacing, and Finn grasped his hands, waiting as Ollie glanced down at them in surprise and then raised his eyes to meet Finn’s.

“I have never andwouldnever think you’re crazy,” Finn stated emphatically. “I know you’re afraid of a lot of things and I believe that you think your weight can somehow control what you’re afraid of.”

Jolting in shock, Ollie tried to pull his hands away but Finn held them fast. Realizing there was no escape, Ollie gave in, slumping. “Not control it. To help me avoid.”

“Avoid the things you’re afraid of?” Finn leaned in closer, thumbs caressing the back of Ollie’s hand. It wasn’t easy, delving into Ollie’s problems, but fighting for someone never was.

Ollie looked away, blinking fast, obviously trying not to cry again. “It sounds dumb.”

---