There he was, walking down the hallway toward me. The love of my life, Chris Yan. He was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of this pathetic planet; he was oriental and had dark chocolate eyes, olive skin, and jet black hair that was streaked bright, blood red. I loved his hair. I was long and curvy, but not curled. It stuck out in random places and fell in his eyes, but that just made him more beautiful. God, I wanted him.

But why would he want me? He wouldn't. Because I'm a stupid little boy with no chance at happiness or a future or love. I was small, too small. I got picked on a lot. I was only 5'2" and I weighed under eighty pounds. That was mainly because I didn't eat. Food always tasted like ash in my mouth and made me gag. No one noticed my lack of eating. I had no friends to sit with at lunch that would force me to eat because they cared about my well-being. I never went on dates for someone to notice that I would never order anything if we went out to eat. My parents were never home because they were too busy with their real lives to notice the son they never wanted. The son they wanted to be a girl.

Chris is next to me now, getting into his locker that stands right next to mine.

"Hey, Ashley," he said with a smile as he started shoving books into the dark blue metal box the school assigned us.

Yes, my name is Ashley; Ashley Dana Pergist. Ashley is actually a boys' name. Most people don't know that, but it is. So is Dana, my middle name. It's just that big jocks don't seem to realize this and feel the need to punish me for my parents' fault.

"Did we have homework in History?" he asked. I nodded silently, not speaking. He smirked, "What was it?"

"He gave us a worksheet. We have to define to terms on it." I said shakily, shocked that he was saying more than 'hey, Ashley', which he said every day when we ran into each other at our lockers.

"Oh, I remember that now," he said, "Thanks, Ash."

I turned away, blushing. No one had never given me a nickname before other than "Faggot" or "Girly-boy". For some reason, that little name made me feel... special.

After shutting my locker, I walked away from him. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay as close to him as possible for the rest of my life. I'm thinking of asking him what college he's going to and following him there then taking the same classes, having the same major, living in the same dorm and then follow him to see if we could work together. We would be together all the time without actually being... together. I get more and more pathetic as each day passes.

I adjusted the strap of my bag that dug into my boney shoulder as I started walking down the tiled steps of my school. Everything suddenly went blurry. I heard a scream and pain seemed to slap me and kick me in the gut at the same time as the world went black.

I woke to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. There was something up my nose and my arm itched. I slowly opened my eyes and stared at a white ceiling. I rolled my head because it was too heavy to lift and stared at my arm. There was a needle in it. I wanted it out. I hate needles.

I reached for the nurse call button on my bedside table only to realize I didn't have the strength to lift my arm more than two inches off of the bed. I opened my mouth to call for someone, but my lips cracked and my tongue was dry. I felt like it was filled with sand, a small desert hidden from the world by my now bleeding lips. I whimpered because it was all I could do.

"Look who's awake," I heard a familiar voice grumble. I shifted my eyes and saw my older brother, James, standing in the door way. I whimpered again and he chuckled, laughing at how pathetic I was. I open my mouth again and wheeze, then cough. It hurt so much that tears rolled down my cheeks. My throat was burning and there was nothing I could do.

He sighed heavily and walked over, sitting on the foot of my bed, "What do you want?"

I croaked and pointed at the water. He picked it up and held it to my lips while holding my head up. I downed the whole glass in seconds, causing my head to throb, but my thirst was quenched.

"What happened?" I whispered, but it came out as a weird croaking noise.

"You fainted," said James, "Passed out at school and took a tumble down some stairs. You hit your head quite a bit. They were surprised you didn't have a concussion. Oh, and your ankle's fractured,"

That's just great. Thank you, God, for making my life just a bit more livable.

"They also say you're malnurished and slowly dying. Mind explaining that?"

I just looked at away from him. I desperately wanted to have the things removed from my nose and arm. They itched and I couldn't breathe right.

"You have no reason to be starving, Ashley. I was home a few hours ago and the fridge is full and so is the pantry. I never thought you were so stupid as to starve yourself for attention from Mom and Dad-"

"It wasn't for attention!" I tried to shout, but it came out breathier than I had meant it to, "I just don't like food, ok? I don't want to eat. I have no reason to eat."

"How about it keeps you alive?"

I just stared at James a moment and tried not to cry as i spoke, "I don't really have a reason to live, now, do I?"

He frowned, "What do you mean?"

His square jaw was clenched in a grimace and his icy blue eyes were narrowed and contempplative. I hated looking at him and his sleek black hair and charming grin and suave good looks and his tall, muscular body. He made me feel like I'd been beaten with an ugly stick or something. I hated him. He was the perfect son. I was that thing that lived in the house that no one wanted. No one had ever wanted it and no one ever would.

"Why should I live?" I asked as I tried to just pull the stupid thing out of my nose myself, but James stopped me and pushed the nurse call button.

He looked sad, "Graduate? College? Job? Marriage? Kids?"

I just shrugged. I didn't care about any of these things. They didn't matter to me. It just meant continuing with the internal agony of shrieking inadequacies constantly picked apart by those around you.

"I don't care." I sighed. The only thing that mattered was Chris. I thrived on the way it felt to have him talk to me, smile at me. That was the only reason I was still alive. Chris.

"Ashley?" asked James, "Did you want to... kill yourself?"

Again I merely shrugged, "Not really. Kind of."

The nurse showed up and removed the nose thing, but not the arm thing, claiming that it was transporting nutrients into my body that I desperately needed. It still itched and I wanted it out. It just wait until she left. And James.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I asked softly, knowing the answer.

James nervously cleared his throat, "They're in Maui."

"Are they coming home soon?"

"Is three weeks soon?"

I screamed, causing James to jump away from the bed. I didn't care. They didn't care. I hated it. Why couldn't they pretend to care? Why couldn't they pretend to love me? It ripped away pieces of me, knowing that I was unwanted, unloved. I was on the brink of death and they didn't care. They were busy drinking margaritas and dining at the Hard Rock Cafe and buying beach supplies to realize that their son was dying in a hospital bed a thousand miles away. I was in emotional anguish and they didn't care. I was whithering away and they didn't care. I was beginning to consider slicing my wrists open, swallowing a thousand pills, and hanging myself and they didn't care. I curled into a fetal position on the bed and cried.

The sobs wracked by body and weared on my throat like sand paper. Was it really worth the torment to continue living? Death seemed so warm and inviting. No parents, no classmates, no teachers, no hospitals, no Chris...

No Chris... Death would suck. I take it all back.

James was rubbing my back as I sat up in a sudden burst of adrenaliene that instantly depleated. I breathed deeply for a few moments, keeping my eyes closed to hide from the world in black shadows. I felt young, like I was four years old all over again; if I can't see you, you can't see me.

James wiped the tears from my eyes, "I need to go talk to the doctor, see if he can recommend a good psychiatrist or something. Are you going to be alright if I leave you alone?"

I nodded, causing him to poke me in the eye slightly. I laughed sourly. Some deity up there has it out for me.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the blank white ceiling. I sighed and let all of the tension flow out of my body with the invisible cloud of air that exited my lips. My eyelids slid shut and I smiled softly. I had no pressure on my mind. I had no obligations, no liabilities, no ambitions. I was just living, breathing. I was just me. I was not the person my parents didn't want, I was not the child that never met their standards, and I was not the person that was subject to the taunts and cruelties of teenagers; I was just me.

Then someone knocked on the door and ruined that for me.

"Mr. Pergist, you have a visitor," said a perky nurse. I wanted her gone and I didn't want I visitor. I was about to express this fact when I opened my eyes. I think they nearly rolled out of my head.

There he was, Mr. Perfect, Chris Yan himself. I forgot how to speak. He just smiled. He walked past the nurse and she closed the door behind him. I watched every motion he made as he walked over, carrying some sort of tupperware, and sat at the foot of the bed in James' former position.

"Hey," he said softly.

I swallowed, "H-...hi."

He smiled more and I grew hot all over, inside and out.

"I, um, I brought you some food. I followed the ambulence and paced in the waiting room forever before they made me leave. They said you were, you know, starved, so I kinda sorta made you something." He opened the tupperware, "It's fettucini alfredo. It's an old family recipe so you have to like it."

I frowned, "I thought you were Asian."

He shrugged nonchalantly. He looked so calm and smooth, "My mom's Italian. My dad's Chinese."

I tried sitting up and after several failed attempts at that he lifted up the bed adjustor and fixed it for me. Then I realized it hurt to move my hands. I pouted and he laughed at me, but it was different. His laughter wasn't harsh or mocking; it was light and soothing. I could listen to him laugh forever.

The pasta had little chucks of broccoli in it, I noticed as he expertly twirled some onto a fork he had pulled out of his pocket moments earlier.

"Open," he said and I obeyed. He fed me like that and I loved it. All of the attention, all of the affection, all of the food that tasted delicious; it was almost too much for me. I believe that's the closest to bliss I will ever get, but I don't care. That was all I needed.

"If you don't mind me asking, why were you starving yourself? Everyone at school knows you're well off so it can't be because of money."

I shrugged and he gave me an incredulous look.

"I don't like food," I answered quietly after swallowing. he already had another forkful ready.

"You're eating now," said Chris with a light tint of sadness in his voice that I could barely detect. I chewed faster so I could reply.

"This is different."

He laughed at this, "How is this different."

I think he was getting impatient with my shrugging, "You made this for me."

He looked very confused, "Not followin' ya, Ash."

"You made this for me. Because you wanted to. You didn't have to. You wanted to."

"Well yeah," said Chris like I was a total moron, "You're my friend... kind of. You ignore me a lot which pisses me off, but I like you and I sort of thought that you liked me, too."

I gaped at him for a moment and he shoved more food into my mouth.

"I've never had a friend before," I whispered after swallowing.

"Never?"

"Never."

It was silent for a few minutes. He didn't talk and I was too busy eating to do so. I idly wondered where James was, but I really didn't care because Chris was there. He was there because he wanted to be near me because I was his friend. I doubted there was a better feeling in the world.

Too soon, the dish was empty. Chris stared at it for a moment then inhaled deeply and slowly released the air.

"Ashley?" I looked at him curiously, "I know you said you have never had a friend before and I know that's probably really important to you, but I feel I need to screw up this friendship. Right now."

I know I looked terrified as he cupped my cheeks in his hands. He leaned in and gently brushed his moist lips against mine. My eyes grew wide and slid shut. My lips were burning, but the burn was exquisite. It had been gentle and chaste and yet I had never felt more alive than in that moment. I sat there as he pulled away, my eyes closed and my skin searing from his touch. I could feel his fidgetting movements as they slightly rocked the mattress.

"So," I opened my eyes and whispered nervously, "Does that mean you like me?"

He laughed and smiled. It lit up the room and I can honestly say there was never a more beautiful smile in the history of the world. He leaned over and pulled me into an embrace, treating me like a piece of glass that would shatter at the slightest unbalance of pressure. It made me feel cherished and loved as I buried my face in his thick hair and wrap my weak arms around his neck. I had never eflt any of the emotions I was feeling at that moment before and it scared me, but that didn't matter.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" he asked sheepishly and I nodded vigorously into his hair.

"I'll be your girlfriend."

He laughed and I felt the vibrations through my whole body. A million things changed in that moment. I felt loved. That was a first. It felt hungry for the first time in monthes; not just for food, but life and Chris. I felt like I belonged right there in his arms for all eternity. One thing was for sure. I wasn't the same person. I wasn't a stupid little boy with no chance at happiness or a future or love any more. I was a stupid little boy with Chris as a boyfriend. That made all of the difference. That was all that mattered. That was all that ever would.

The end.

AN: This was something I wrote whenever I was extremely bored and was incapable of working on any of my other stories. The ending was the best I could come up with. Please review if you liked it and I might consider doing something else with it. I really like the characters, though my friend Chris would kill me if he knew this was him. Good thing he'll never know about this.