The Truth

Part 1: Skinny

"Do you have a degree?" she screamed at Sam, halfway through group. "I'm forced to come into this shithole! And now I'm vomiting my guts out and they tell me I have to be in a fucking group. Do you even have a degree?"

Sam took it in his stride. It's what made him Sam - his unwavering composure no matter the pressure we put him under. The rest of us reacted either with an urge to mitigate the tension or the desire to laugh. I was of the latter group. Snickers punctuated the calls for the girl to calm down and I had to place my head in my hands and silently shake. If a healthy and naive individual had walked in, he or she would have seen exactly what one expects of Tara.

"I'm going to ask you to leave," said Sam. "Take some time to calm down and we'll talk about this later." He motioned for one of the nurses to escort her out, and we continued with the group.

"I wonder how she got past the interview," Skinny said later. We sat around a stone table, all but one of us smoking. "They almost didn't let me in and I wanted to come."

"That's because you're a fucking right-off," Shel said. She was a boyish lesbian, with the typical cut to her bleach-blond hair.

"Too true." Skinny wasn't really skinny, but he loathed the inanity of Fred, his real name. Someone along the line gave him the moniker and he chose to keep it. It was how he introduced himself, and we would have never known his true identity had it not been written on all the noticeboards and documentation. He had a slim physique, in a way that made one want to caress one's tongue over his smooth chest and stomach. He had naturally blonde hair and a strong face and he could have been attractive, but he made too much of himself and caused us all to scrutinise him for his faults. These we found mostly in his personality. "I beat up my stepdad two days before I came in. He almost had to go to hospital. They only let me in so that I wouldn't go all the way."

"Bullshit," said Tina. "They would've put you in ward eight."

"They were going to, but didn't because I have no history of hurting anyone else. Except for myself." He turned his arms over and we saw a plethora of thin white scars. There were so many that his skin looked unnaturally pale, and for some reason this added to his attraction.

"I wonder if they'll put her in ward eight," said Tina, referring back to our original subject.

"They won't," Josh said. "We'll see her later today looking sheepish. And we'll be embarrassed too and mock her about it."

"Speak for yourself." Tina feigned offence.

"I don't mean in a bad way. It's how we become friends in here. We talk shit about sex and exaggerate each other's' fucked-upness."

"Why do we always revert to sex?" Carly said. She puffed on her cigarette with nonchalance.

"It's cos we're not allowed to have it," Tina said.

Skinny took his cue. "I get enough action outside. That's why I never talk about it."

"Ha! You're always talking about your dick!"

"It's impossible to avoid. Ten inches."

Josh glanced at Skinny's crotch. "Nah."

"I'm a grower." Skinny was adaptable if nothing else. "My stepdad has such a tiny dick. He'll never be naked, even when we're at the commune." Skinny always told us his mom owned a naturist resort.

"Then how do you know?"

"I found this video on my mom's computer of her - it was gross but she's pretty open about these things - she was sucking him off. And..."

"For fuck's sake!" Three of us at the same time.

"The levels he'll stoop to," said Josh under his breath.

"This is why I prefer girls. Boys are disgusting," I said.

"You're a lesbian too?" Skinny again. "Why the fuck are there no straight people here?"

Josh was right about the morning's nutter. She came to join us later. She had no choice, we were all there for the weekend. We'd met her the night before anyway and we knew she was cool. Skinny asked if she had a degree and we all laughed and the ice was broken.

By that time I was sick of the company and so I took a walk to the vending machine. Two Bar-Ones, and both were melted. No big loss, I'd put them in the freezer and they'd be even better later, but I almost screamed in frustration nonetheless. Surely it was a bad sign that nothing seemed to work.