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Dedication to Tributodelaveta because you voted for the chapter within seconds of it going up! Impressive!! :D:D

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Chapter 13

Rich nor Geoffrey got caught, and as time went on; they became dangerously thin. Dawn, the guidance counselor, openly discussed the dangers they were doing to their bodies, but they still denied any trickery. The room inspections grew more frequent, and we were at the point of having two a week. Terry followed the two around, and they weren't allowed to keep their door shut; however, they still lost weight.

I watched silently as they began to fade away. Rich never looked more proud as his clothes, even the ones that were intended to be tight, clung loosely from his body, and Geoffrey looked like a skeleton. His green eyes seemed to sink deep into his skull.

At our meals, Ruth always seemed exasperated. She basically begged Rich and Geoffrey to eat, and they did. They always ate.

They just never kept it down.

I continued to feel worse about lying, and I wanted so desperately to tell an adult, to talk to Dawn; however, whenever we were in therapy, I couldn't find a way to bring it up. Even in individual therapy, I was only praised for my "good behavior" and basically waved away. I was doing well, and that was all that mattered to the adults.

They didn't care about the war going on in my head.

Steven still didn't want to talk about the two other boys, and I suspected it was because he too was having a hard time witnessing them waste away. It wasn't fair that they got to be skinny and we had to continue to gain weight.

It wasn't fair.

Every trip to the bathroom came with a pleading darkness, a darkness that wanted me to give in. Every time I shut the stall door behind me, I felt the darkness coil around my legs and slowly travel up my spine. There, it whispered to me, Just do it, Max. You will feel so much better.

Yet, with my jaw clenched shut tightly, I fought the darkness from my mind. Every day was a battle, and with every day, I felt weaker, more vulnerable.

It was only a matter of time before the darkness won.

There was also a constant ache that made its home in my stomach, and when all of us were together, it seemed to intensify. The group therapy sessions were the absolute worse; I always felt like I would throw up at any moment; however, it was on one of those therapy sessions that I finally learned what made Rich tick.

-

Dawn stood just outside of the door to her office as we filed in. She smiled gently as we all shuffled to our unofficial seats. Once we were all in our places, she shut the door behind us and made her way to her desk. We all sat in a silence that seemed to grow around us these last few weeks.

With each passing day, the silence thickened, becoming an invisible wall separating Rich and Geoffrey from Steven and I. The only time the four of us had any interaction was in group therapy.

I eyed the group as I pulled my knees to my chest. Steven's face was blank, expressionless as he waiting for Dawn to begin. His hands were folded tightly in his lap, but when he caught my eyes on him, his expression softened slightly and he squeezed my knee gently. Still silent, I placed my hand on his for the briefest of moment before he pulled away, returned his hands to his lap.

Geoffrey sat directly to my left. His long hair was thrown in a quick, messy bun, and he wore a simple black sweater and ripped black skinny jeans. Despite that his sweater hung from his body like a giant bag, Geoffrey still looked glamorous. He crossed his arms against his chest and seemed to sink into his chair.

He looked bored.

Rich sat next to Geoffrey. He was wearing as little clothing as possible without walking around naked. He wore a tank top that showed his bony chest and a pair of blue jean cut-offs that accentuated the twigs he called legs. Honestly, Rich was giving Nicole Richie and Rachel Zoe a run for their money.

I internally gagged at my own references and vowed to never read another one of Geoffrey's magazines.

Dawn cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "How is everyone today?" The room remained quiet until Rich spoke up.

"I'm fabulous," he began as his leg began to tap, "what about yourself, doll?"

Dawn smiled down at Rich, "I'm wonderful. Thank you for asking." She paused to briefly scan the rest of us. "How about the rest of you?"

"Good," Steven and I spoke in unison.

"Gross," Rich grumbled instantly.

Steven cut his eyes at him, but remained silent.

"How about you, Geoffrey?" Dawn prodded.

He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Bored," he yawned, "and tired."

"Well, let's get right into it then." Dawn sat at the end of her desk and pushed her glasses to the top of her head. "I thought it would be nice to share a little bit more about ourselves today. How does that sound, boys?"

Geoffrey sighed dramatically, as if the thought of talking about himself was just too much for him to handle.

"What did you have in mind?" Steven asked attentively.

Dawn shot a smile over to Steven. "I'm so glad you asked. I thought it would be good to talk about the very first time you felt the need to participate in your self destructive behavior."

Her words came out so light, but they smacked me in the face like a brick.

"I think it would be beneficial to identify the things that make you feel the need to continue," Dawn added.

This time, Steven sank in his seat, and Rich, who couldn't keep still, perked up. I hugged my knees and kept quiet. The last thing I wanted to do right now was think about the beginning of my insanity.

"Rich, would you like to begin?" Dawn sat in her chair and pulled out her notebook. By now, that thing had to be filled to the brim.

Rich cleared his throat and scooted to the edge of his seat. "You bet your behind I do." He fell silent for a moment as if he were mulling over the words in his head. "I actually didn't have a clue what I was doing in the beginning. If I hadn't stumbled onto this thinspiration website, I probably wouldn't be here right now." Rich spoke proudly, so I imagined he was talking about his body as opposed to being trapped in this house.

"A pro-ana site?" Dawn asked as she quickly scribbled in her book.

Rich nodded. "They are these sites where people post photos of their ideal bodies and talk about tips and tricks to lose weight." As he spoke, his eyes sparkled. "They're really wonderful places. I used to have so many supportive friends, and we would all keep track of our weight loss, and if someone wanted to eat, we would help them be strong."

"We all know what those sites are," Steven grumbled from his seat.

I glanced over and noticed that Steven had I'm-totally-over-this written all over his face. In my own experience, I ran into a few of the sites he spoke about. Deep down, I loved them. Rich was correct; there was almost a sense of community that came with talking to other people who were in the same situation I was in. When I felt the most alone, I found friends, people who didn't make me feel like I was insane, on those sites.

"Let's all let Rich speak, ok? Everyone will have a chance to speak," Dawn added.

Steven sighed but kept quiet at rich began speaking once more.

"Anyway," Rich grumbled dramatically, "all my favorite sites kept getting taken down, so one day, I just made my own." He smiled widely as he recalled his memories. "My sites were always super popular, and whenever they got taken down, I had another ready to go."

"Why do you think they were taken down," Dawn asked, glancing over her glasses. At some point, they slipped down to the tip of her nose.

Rich shrugged. "Probably because they were promoting bad behavior," Rich added air quotes over his last two words, "but that never stopped me. I'd still have sites running if I weren't trapped in this dump without wifi."

I believed him. I actually didn't have a difficult time imagining Rich as the man behind an insanely popular pro-ana site. It seemed fitting in a way.

Dawn stood up from her desk. "I'm sure you all have encountered these sites. Would I be correct in that assumption?"

We all nodded simultaneously.

"I see," she began. "Now, I would advise all of you to stay away from those sites-"

"But-" Rich interjected; however, Dawn continued, effectively silencing him.

"They only promote bad behavior, and they aren't safe places for anyone to be. People who believe eating disorders to be perfectly fine in every day life are sick. Anorexia and bulimia are eating disorders. You are only doing harm to your bodies and your mental health."

Rich's leg began bouncing so violently that I was positive he would bore a hole in the floor. "That's bullshit!" He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "It's our bodies!" He pulled at his skin. "We can do whatever we want to our bodies!"

"That's quite enough, Rich. If you aren't going to speak calmly then you may remain quiet during the session." Dawn scribbled something down on her clipboard.

"You're all the same," Rich spat. "You don't actually care about us. You just want us to conform to your ideals about what's healthy and not healthy. If I'm happy not eating, then I shouldn't have to eat. If Geoffrey wants to lose twenty pounds, he should be able to do so without being forced into a clinic." His words came out quickly but his volume returned to normal. "My own parents don't give a flying shit, so why do you?"

"I care about you all," Dawn added gently.

"Bullshit," he spat once more. "My parent say they care too, but they don't give a crap about me or anything I do. Hell, when I first stopped eating, they actually praised me for finally losing my baby fat." Rich laughed dryly as we all stared at him silently. Even Dawn remained silent. "I spent more time with our maid than my own parents, but as soon as I lost too much weight," he made air quotes once more, "they immediately locked me away without as much as a single conversation before hand. So, don't try to feed me the "I care" crap. No one cares. Everyone just wants us to fit into their mold of healthy when in reality, your only goal is fattening us up and then sending us back home once we reach a certain number.

"That's all we are to you: a number, but because my number isn't high enough, I have to stay. What about Geoffrey? Is his number too low?" Rich's words were coming fast and faster as tears began to drip from his eyes. "What about Steven and Max? Are their number still too low, or are you waiting for them to climb into the two hundreds?" He hastily wiped his cheeks then added, "Oh, wait. No. That wouldn't work because then they would be too heavy, and you would probably lock them up in a fat camp and tie them to their beds until they lost weight."

He blew out a long breath and settled back into his seat. "I'm over it."

I stared at Rich in silent shock. On one hand, it was nice to hear Rich talk about his past. I mean, he tended to keep his personal life under lock and key, but at the same time, seeing him cry tore at my insides.

He was in so much pain.

"Rich you are here because your parents want you to reach an inner peace and learn to cope with your illness. They want you to be healthy, both mentally and physically," Dawn spoke assuringly.

Rich scoffed. "You obviously don't know my parents. They only sent me here so they didn't have to deal with me." He laughed to himself. "It isn't chic to have your son passing out during your dinner parties."

"We're here to learn to be better," Steven spoke up. "The eating and food is just to get us to a normal weight, so we can work on accepting ourselves for who we are."

"Yes, we are all here to help you, Rich. I understand that this is the most difficult thing you have ever been through, but we need you to cooperate with us so we can help you help you."

There was a silence as Geoffrey sank in his chair, and Steven crossed his arms across his chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Everything felt so heavy. Even the air around me seemed to weigh down on me.

Rich sighed finally. "Like I said, I'm over it."

The rest of our group therapy felt a little awkward. There was a tension in the air that arose any time Rich and Steven spoke. Geoffrey and I more or less remained silent unless we were spoken to, and even then, our responses were little more than muffled mhmm's.

A few times, I caught Geoffrey's icy gaze. Instead of looking bored he looked terrified. He chewed on the corners of his fingers and couldn't sit still. "Are you ok?" I mouthed silently to him.

His eyes seemed to shimmer as he mouthed a silent, "no."

I reached out slowly, offering the model a hand. He eyed my hand and then flicked his gaze back to my eyes. There was a hesitation in his eyes, but I did my best to offer him a small smile.

Another second passed before he snaked his hand to mine. When our fingers touched, I took his hand and gave it a gentle but firm squeeze. For some reason, in that exact moment, I wanted Geoffrey to know that everything would be ok. I wasn't sure if I even thought everything would be fine, but it just had to.

"I know this is hard, boys, but I want you to all know that I believe in each and every one of you. I know that each one of you has infinite potential to overcome your illnesses. Don't forget that this is only a small part of your lives." Dawn sat on the edge of her desk. "I know what I say is true because I have been in your shoes, boys."

That caught all of our attentions.

"If I could show the twenty-year-old version of myself where I am now, she would laugh at me and call me a liar. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever reach a point in my life where I overcame the restraints of my eating disorder, but here I am. I'm still here. Recovery is possible." Dawn stood up and made her way across the room to the door.

The other boys and I all exchanged looks that ranged from disbelieve to shock. With all the time I spent in the house, it never occurred to me that any of the staff could have possibly had past eating problems, and I definitely never expected that person to be Dawn. Something about the baffled looks painted on the other skinny boys' faces told me they were thinking the same thing.

"I'll see you all next time," Dawn concluded with a warm smile as she opened the door. Rich was the first out of the room. He blew past the rest of us and Dawn, immediately making his way up the stairs to his bedroom. The rest of us made our way out, but I hesitated for a second, falling behind the other boys.

This was my opportunity to tell Dawn about Rich and Geoffrey, but as I stood in front of Dawn, I couldn't find the words. I wanted to scream at myself as she stared down at me. "Is there something I can help you with, Max?" She questioned.

Instead of just opening my mouth and telling her like a normal person, I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head. Quickly, I met up with Steven and Geoffrey at the top of the stairs.

"Well," Geoffrey began as he raked his fingers through his hair, "what do we do now?"

What I wanted came instantaneously. "Slumber party in Steven's room." Without waiting for the other boys to agree, I made my way into my room, quickly changed into my pseudo pajamas, a huge white shirt and black sweat pants, yanked the comforter off my bed, tucked my pillow under my arm, and trucked across the hall to Steven's room.

I piled my spoils onto Steven's bed and met Geoffrey and Steven back in the hall. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" I guess all it took to reforge our friendship was our guidance counselor admitting to a past eating disorder.

Who knew?

They exchanged looks and shrugged. "I'll see if Rich wants to join," Geoffrey began, but before he could knock on Rich's door, a voice met him.

"I'm not in the mood for a slumber part. Thanks but no thanks." Rich grumbled.

Geoffrey flipped his hair dramatically. "Suit yourself."

As Geoffrey and Steven changed into their pajamas, I decided to completely lose my mind and sink into the kitchen for slumber party snacks. Maybe all this pressure and drama that surrounded the skinny boy house turned me into a stress eater?

Nonetheless, I tiptoed back down the stairs; however, I didn't make it far before a all too familiar voice came from beside me. "What are you doing, Max?" Terry's voice was more curious than authoritative.

I jumped, instinctively clutching my heart. "Jesus, Terry," I grumbled as I turned to face the guard, "are you trying to give me a flippin' heart attack?"

He chuckled lightly. "Well, if you weren't sneaking around, I wouldn't have had to sneak up on you."

I stole a deep breath to calm my nerves."Look, I know I'm not supposed to be alone and all that, but I'm just trying to get some snacks for our sleep over. Is that ok?" Somehow sass found its way into my voice.

Terry's eyes seemed to light up. "Snacks?"

I rolled my eyes at his surprise. "Yes, snacks." I paused. "Are you going to help me smuggle the goods, or is that against the rules?" I lifted a brow as a smile pulled at the corner of my lips.

He grinned down at me. "You wait for me here, ok? I'll get the goods." He began to make his way to the kitchen when he turned back to face me. "Did you have anything in mind?"

For once, a longing for chocolate and popcorn formed in my mind. "Popcorn and chocolate!" As I spoke, I could almost taste the chocolate.

Terry smiled down at me. "I can do better. Give me a second," he added with a wink.

I waited patiently for the guard to return and listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen. The erratic popping of the popcorn came first, and when the microwave beeped, I head the door open and then close again. The microwave made its way through another heating cycle, but this time, when it beeped, Terry appeared right after with a large glass bowl. "How does this look?" He asked as he handed over his concoction.

Instantly, the aroma of popcorn, chocolate, and something I couldn't put my finger on, wafted into my senses. Instantly, I began to salivate. Upon further inspection, I noticed that Terry had made popcorn with chocolate drizzled all over! Without hesitation, I plopped a sticky piece into my mouth.

"Oh god, Terry, this is delicious," I basically moaned. I couldn't help but plop another piece into my mouth. "Is that caramel?" I asked as another piece made its way passed my lips.

Terry leaned against the wall and crossed his arms against his chest. "It is. Does it pass your inspection?" He asked playfully.

"It really does," I licked my fingers clean and smiled up at him. "If you made this for me every day I wouldn't mind being fat."

"I'll have to remember that." Terry pushed himself up. "Want some company back upstairs?"

I shrugged. "If you want."

"It's my pleasure." I was sure it was more his job than pleasure, but I enjoyed his presence none the less.

Terry and I climbed the stairs, and when we reached the top, I spun around to face the guard. "Thank you, Terry. You're kinda the best."

He grinned widely. "All in a day's work, kiddo. Now, get back to your friends. It isn't polite to keep them waiting."

I nodded and made my way to Steven's, but as I passed Rich's room, I stopped. Hesitantly, I knocked on his door (I guessed he was keeping his door shut despite the new rules.) and spoke before he had a chance to say something rude. "Are you sure you don't want to join us, Rich? We have popcorn."

There was a shuffle as Rich's door popped open; however, only a hand made its way out. "Popcorn, please."

I couldn't help but smile. Popcorn seemed to be the cure for the soul. "Be careful, it's kinda sticky." I extended the bowl out and Rich grabbed a handful.

"Is that caramel," he asked through the crunching.

"It is. Terry made it for us." I waited a moment before adding, "you want to come over?"

There was a long silence, and for a moment, I was sure Rich would emerge; however, the door closed abruptly. "I'm really tired. I just want to sleep."

I sighed. "Ok. I'll see you tomorrow."

Once inside Steven's room, I shut the door behind me and found Steven and Geoffrey piled onto his bed. Geoffrey wore an all black silky pajama set that I hadn't seen until today, and Steven wore a plain grey shirt with blue basketball shorts.

"I have popcorn!" I shouted triumphantly as I held the bowl in the air.

The three of us made a pallet on the floor using all our comforters and pillows. We made a circle around the popcorn and began to dig in. Even Geoffrey found his fingers covered in chocolate as the night went on.

"What do we all think about Rich's outburst?" Steven gossiped.

Geoffrey instantly straightened his back and crossed his arms across his chest. "It isn't polite to gossip about people who aren't here to defend themselves."

Steven raised his hands in the air as if he were surrendering. "I'm not saying anything bad; I'm just asking a question."

I sighed as I licked my fingers clean. "I think he's having a hard time."

"I think so too," Steven agreed. "He's spiraling out of control right now, and he's trying to take you down with him," Steven said, aiming his words at Geoffrey.

Geoffrey opened his mouth to speak; however, he stopped short and sighed instead. There was a long silence before he spoke. "I know what Rich is doing, but it's not all his fault. I wanted to do it too." He reached for his hair, but stopped short, instead he began to lick his fingers. "I think I just wanted to remind myself what it felt like one more time, you know?"

I nodded. I knew exactly how he felt. Despite everything, I could easily imagine myself slipping up one more time.

Maybe even a few times.

"I know what you mean, man," Steven agreed. "You just have to be careful. This has been a long one last time, and we all need to start sticking together. You know, power in numbers and all that."

Geoffrey nodded and even managed a small smile. "I guess it's time to start playing by the rules again, huh?" He blew out a dramatic breath. "How boring."

"What are we going to do about Rich," I asked suddenly. The other boys turned to meet my gaze.

Steven shrugged. "Maybe we can talk some sense into him tomorrow?"

"I doubt he'll listen," Geoffrey sighed. "He's in a dark place right now."

"Aren't we all in dark places?" I asked as I crossed my legs.

Geoffrey shrugged. "Well, yeah, but no one really knows about Rich's relationship with his parents." He paused. "It's really messed up."

Intrigued, I asked, "What do you mean?" Rich always let on that his parents had better things to do than entertain him, but how bad could it have really been?

"I don't want to talk about Rich while he's not here. It doesn't seem fair." Geoffrey seemed to lull something over before he spoke again. "Screw it. The thing about Rich is all he's ever wanted was attention from his parents. They're both doctors or something; they make loads of money, and have huge parties for different organizations and all that. My kindof people, really." He sighed warmly. "God, how I miss lavish parties."

Steven rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. "You were saying?"

"Oh yeah," Geoffrey mumbled, getting back on track. "Well, Rich is convinced his parents only had him as a novelty, and his nanny was more of a mother to him than either of his parents. Long story short: his nanny died, and Rich found himself alone with parents that wanted nothing to do with him. There were many times where they would forget he was even there."

"That's horrible," I admitted. A hard lump formed in my throat. I could sympathize with a messed up home life.

Easily.

"That's not the worst," Geoffrey went on, "One time, when he was thirteen, his parents left for a week long trip to the Bahamas and forgot to organize someone to stay with him. Rich woke up alone in his giant house."

"So, do you think he stopped eating to get their attention?" Steven questioned.

Geoffrey shrugged. "Rich never really told me exactly why he started, but I think it was a cry for their attention. I mean, that's what they teach us, right?"

I nodded, and added, "It didn't work though. From what he said in group, they gave him praise for awhile, but immediately sent him away when he got too thin."

Geoffrey nodded solemnly. "It's actually quite depressing when you think about it. Rich went years pining after their attention, and he only gets it after torturing himself. So of course he continues doing the thing that got him attention, only for his parents to ultimately send him away and forget about him once more."

"Poor guy," Steven mumbled, instinctively reaching for my hand. When his fingers met mine, he squeezed my hand gently. I glanced up and offered him a small smile despite how my stomach sank and Geoffrey's words.

Suddenly, I understood Rich for who he really was. He was a product of his parents just like I was a product of my mother.

We were more alike than I ever took the time to realize.

"Rich is a strong guy though," Geoffrey admitted. "He'll be fine."

A silence fell over the three of us as we picked at the popcorn once more. "I feel kinda bad," Steven began. "I don't have a bad family life."

"That's nothing to feel bad about," I said firmly. "You're really lucky." He could have had my mother.

"Yeah, but I still ended up here." Steven sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

"Well, why are you here?" Geoffrey asked sincerely.

I watched as Steven began to pace around his room. He ran his hands down his face before finally plopping down on the edge of his bed. "I'm here because my parents care about me. They only want the best for me; it's all they've ever wanted, and I've just never been good enough to give them that." Steven sighed. "I've consistently been a screw up, but they've never said anything about it. They've only ever been supportive even when I didn't deserve it.

"I've never deserved their love."

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces as Steven began to cry. How could someone so genuinely good not think he was good enough to be loved? If there were anyone on the planet who deserved love, it was Steven.

Standing, I sat next to him and wrapped an arm over his shoulder. "You're the most wonderful human being alive, Steven."

He sniffled but chuckled. "That's the sappiest thing I've ever heard."

I smiled and elbowed him in the side. "It's the truth though."

Steven sighed and wiped his cheeks. "I'm trying really hard to be better."

Geoffrey stood up suddenly and made his way over to the bed. "Look, don't tell anyone I'm being nice to you or anything..." Before either of us could say anything, Geoffrey wrapped his long arms around the both of us, pulling us strongly against his thin chest. In a matter of seconds, we were all crying, sniffling messes.

I think we all felt like we weren't good enough in one way or another. Maybe that was the bond that ultimately tied us together. Geoffrey forced his body to meet the standards of a fickle industry, I knew that I would never be enough for my mother, Steven believed himself to be worthless, and Rich longed to be something worth his parents affection.

"I'm going to sleep," Geoffrey began as he pulled away from us. Crying made his already deep voice much more gruff; he sounded like what I'd imagined a lumberjack would sound like. "I'm going to get up early and see if I can talk some sense into Rich."

"That's a good idea," Steven agreed as he wiped his cheeks. "I'll be there."

"Me too," I chimed.

We all settled onto the large pile of blankets and once the lights were off, Geoffrey conked out. I imagined he had to be exhausted. The boy was nothing more than skin hanging from his bones, and today had been quite... taxing. I curled up next to Steven, silently listening to his rhythmic breathing. It was only a matter of minutes before he fell asleep. Next to Steven, I waited for sleep to come for me; however, an uneasy feeling seemed to linger at the bottom of my stomach.

When I finally slipped into slumber, I had vivid flashes of red and blue in my dreams. It wasn't until I cracked my eyes open that I noticed the lights were actually coming from the bedroom window.

The bright splashes of red and blue danced around in the darkness, illuminating the serene, sleeping faces of my fellow skinny boys.

The uneasy feeling turned into horror and ice trickled through my veins. Something was horribly wrong.

----

Sorry again for the delay. I intended this chapter to be up sooner, but work has been a tiny bit crazy these last few weeks. I am super pumped to be writing on this again though! I sure hope you are ready for the next few chapters..

As always, I greatly appreciate when you all vote and leave me some comments!  

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