The next few days really seem to drag, and it doesn't help that Hunter is no where to be found. There's no such thing as a good day when you're in rehab, but I don't things could really get much worse. I've been shaky and nauseous since I woke up this morning. I just can't wait for this day to end.
I walk out into the lounging area after lunch and sit down on one of the couches, mindlessly staring at the senseless program on the television. I've been there for almost an hour when I see Hunter walk into the room. I beam over at him as our eyes meet, "Hey there."
He returns the grin and takes a seat beside me, "Hey, where've you been?"
"Around. Doing what I pretty much always do around here..." I answer with an eye roll, "What about you?"
"Same here," he replies with a shrug, "Sucks we don't run into each other more often. Do you get much spare time?"
I nod, "Yeah, sort of. Technically it's free time, but someone's always nudging me to do something that I don't really want to. Group activities aren't really my thing. At least not when we sit around in circles and talk about our feelings."
"Sounds about right," he comments with a laugh, "Maybe if they see you're making friends they'll lay off a little, eh?"
I smile, "Yeah, maybe. What about you? Are you around much?"
"Mhm. How about we start hanging out more?" he suggests, "Meet me here at this time whenever you can."
"Gladly," I answer happily, "You're probably the only good company I've met."
"There's not a lot of that here, so I guess it's good that we ran into each other, huh?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"So, um, do you have any idea how much longer you'll be here?" he asks casually.
"I'm still not sure," I mutter with a sigh, "I got to see my Dad the other day, and he really doesn't want me out of here until he feels confident that I won't have to come back later, you know?"
He nods, "Yeah, fair enough. So you folks threw you in here, then?"
"Yeah, you could say that. You?"
He crosses his legs, "Well, it was pretty much this or jail. Funny how going to rehab can waive almost any law."
I raise my eyebrows, "Do you mind me asking what you did to get in that situation?"
"Illegal drugs, duh." he answers with a smirk, "Dealing, using, the whole nine yards..."
"Oh, haha, no kidding."
"What about you?" he asks casually, "Did you just stop eating because you wanted to be a model? Because most male models are more muscular than they are skinny..."
"Well, no," I tell him honestly, "I usually just tell people that because it's easier to understand. I mean, technically it's true, but probably no more than ten percent of the problem..."
"Easier to understand than what?" he inquires with legitimate interest.
"Than what my real problems are," I mutter, frowning slightly, "I guess starving myself was just kind of a side effect of feeling like I was never good enough."
He looks as me sympathetically, "Good enough for what?"
"Anything," I answer quickly, and then change the subject, "What about you? Why did you get into drugs?"
"It's pretty complicated, I'm sure you get that," he begins calmly, "Stress, the desire to be 'cool' and rebellious. It just kinda felt like the thing to do, I guess."
"How old were you when it started?" I ask, folding my hands.
"14, maybe? I don't know exactly, to be honest, but something along those lines. You?"
"Well, I've done drugs before, but I don't know if I would-"
"You know what I mean." he says with a laugh.
"I know," I reply, grinning, "But I've been self conscious and insecure for as long as I remember. I didn't totally stop eating altogether until maybe a year or two ago, though."
"I guess you can only do that kind of stuff for so long before it starts to show, huh?"
I nod, "Yeah. Which is a good thing and a bad thing at the same time." I look around the room and then back at Hunter, "So, um, just between you and me, do you want to be clean and get better or are you only here because you have to be?"
He sighs, biting his lip, "I don't know. I've asked myself that same question quite a few times. I still don't know what I'm gonna do when I get out of here..."
"Do you live with your parents?"
"I did. I don't think I'm gonna move back in with them when I get out of here, though," he explains, crossing his arms, "They're rich, uptight and all kinds of disappointed in me. I don't feel like dealing with them and their disapproval, so thankfully I don't have to. I'll probably lose my trust fund, but I have no doubt that I'll make it just fine on my own."
"Wow..." I murmur, a million thoughts running through my head, "I know the feeling. I just don't know if I'd be brave enough to do what you're doing... I really admire you for that."
He raises an eyebrow, "You mean you come from a rich family with impossible standards, too?"
"You could say that," I smirk slightly, "My parents know almost nothing about me, though. I just fake it and make them believe everything they wanna hear. They'd be so far beyond disappointed if I was actually honest with them."
"I've been there," he replies with a small smile, "But you could get out if you wanted to. In fact, you could come stay with me after we get out of here, if you want. We could do it together."
I grin, running a hand through my hair, "I guess it wouldn't be so scary if I wasn't alone."
"You know, I really like you," he tells me, "You seem like a great person. So do us both a favor and really try to get better. I'd be devastated if anything ever happened to you..."
"I will if you will. We can do this together, too, you know..."
"Deal." he mutters, his eyes sparking as they stare into mine.
