I rarely ever forgot to eat. When you're as tall and lanky and skinny and high energy as I am, you're almost constantly hungry. But if Wilbur asked why I'd skipped breakfast that morning when I usually didn't, the answer was that I forgot. It was a lie, sure, but what else was I supposed to say? I couldn't exactly tell the truth and say that I'd been so anxious that my stomach had been rolling and that the mere thought of food had been enough to make me gag.

Now it was noon and Wilbur was rattling off a list of places nearby where we could go and grab a bite to eat. The anxiety I'd been feeling earlier was gone, overshadowed as we'd easily fallen into our usual rhythm. But even though my stomach wasn't churning with anxiety anymore, it still hurt to the point where I didn't want to eat. That terrible empty pain where your body is screaming for food but the thought of eating makes you feel sick.

"So, do you want to eat at English's of Brighton or Food for Friends?" Wilbur asked, glancing at me with an expectant eyebrow raised.

My stomach clenched at the prospect of food and I closed my eyes briefly, breathing through the discomfort. I didn't want to be that person, shooting Wilbur down when he was being such a good host, but the thought of eating right now made me nauseous.

"Uhhh," I bit the inside of my cheek. "I'm, uh, actually not hungry, Wilbur."

Wilbur's face pinched with obvious suspicion. "You sure? I'll pay for you."

"No, no, no," I was quick to stop him. "First of all, I make more money than you, dickhead, I don't need some peasant paying for me. Second, I'm just genuinely not hungry right now."

Wilbur studied me suspiciously for a moment before getting up from the bench with a sigh. "Okay," he said, placing his hands on his hips. "I suppose we can wait and just do an early supper. Do you want to go down to the beach or the arcade in the meantime?"

I looked out at the beach. Soft waves crashed against the pebbles that made up the shore. It was a lovely day—the sky clear, sun shining, with the sticky June heat occasionally interrupted by a pleasant breeze. The beach looked calm compared to the chaos an arcade would bring.

"Beach," I decided, pushing myself to stand. As soon as I did, the world tilted unexpectedly. My stomach dropped and I swayed dangerously, vision starting to darken around the edges. I blinked furiously, trying to clear my sight.

"Uh, Tommy, you good?" Wilbur asked, concern evident in his voice.

I remained still, focusing on stabilizing myself and getting my vision to clear. I breathed deeply— in through my nose and out through my mouth—before slowly relaxing my muscles.

When I felt steady enough that I wasn't going to immediately pass out, I nodded slightly. "Yeah," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "I'm good. J-Just stood up too fast."