Avery's Anorexia

Chapter Eight - Disclosure

Cameron was entirely smitten with Dean. It was very cute to see, especially since Dean was a quiet one. He kept to himself. I think the only reason he sat with us was because of Cam approaching him. When the conversation flitted  between Cameron and I, Dean watched in silence. Anyone else would have found it creepy being analyzed by someone who hardly talked, but I didn't feel uneasy around Dean. Those observing ocean eyes had a peacefulness to them. It was intriguing to see Cameron break through every wall-to witness Dean slowly open up to Cam. It made me long for a blooming love like that.

I used the advice Clover gave me and filled my pockets with rocks and the candy I stole when it was time for the weekly weigh-in.

Gena smiled as she wrote down my fake weight on her clipboard. "111 pounds, Avery! I'm proud of you. Keep it up and we'll send you home."

Not if you knew what real weight was. If I had to estimate, my real weight was probably fluctuating between 103-106 lbs. As long as I kept up the charade, I could get my freedom.

In light of it being summer, the institution let certain patients outside in the gardens at night to play with the fireflies-supervised of course. The thing I respected about Cameron was that despite "romantic" times like this, he never acted lovey-dovey with Dean when I was there. He never made me feel like a third wheel, even if I convinced myself I didn't care either way. The three of us sat in the dewy grass further from other patients. I hadn't felt more serene since the day I arrived. The night had a tranquil magic all its own.

"My parents are divorced," Cameron said to the stars. "My mom took off and that left me with my dad. When he found out I was queer he called me a fag and beat me. He drove off, probably to get drunk somewhere. I don't know. I didn't stay. I filled as many bags as I could with clothes and other belongings I couldn't leave behind then spent the night at a friend's house. In the morning I called my aunt on my mom's side of the family." Cameron laughed sadly to himself.

Dean and I shared a look.

"My aunt was horrified that my mom abandoned me with that monster. She took me in and gave her sister a piece of her mind. It didn't change anything. Eventually, my aunt got custody of me and I started over. A new school. A new home. For a while I felt okay-not good, not bad, but that in-between state. That was until I felt comfortable enough to admit my sexuality. I didn't want to hide that. More than anything, I wanted a clean slate where I could be proud of who I was. It was great at first. No one judged me, but then there were a couple of straight guys that made a big deal out of it.

I wasn't insecure. I can't help who I love and I wasn't ashamed of being myself. It's just that..." Cameron hugged his knees and cast his stare into the grass, his fists balling. "The more time that went by, the comments got to me. I couldn't help but wonder if it was my fault. If I would've just been hetero, my dad wouldn't have disowned me. If I had been a better son, my mom would have taken me with her. The thoughts wouldn't stop. That's when I tried to cut, but it didn't give me any relief. The pain was pain-it hurt. I didn't like it. Then I got the idea to improve myself in every way possible. It started as just me trying to prove my parents wrong-that I could be the best adopted son my aunt ever had, I could look good, and be a great person. So I turned to body-building. I didn't want to be some bulked-out freak. Just toned up with a six-pack, you know? But somehow it got out of control. The diets made me feel sick, but if I strayed from them I felt horrible. I started throwing up my meals. Long story short, bulimia found me. My aunt caught me purging when she came home from work early, and that landed me here."

Dean put his arm around Cam and pulled him into a tight hug. He breathed into Dean's chest. I rested my chin on my knees and glanced at the fireflies.

"I guess you two have already suspected," Dean paused. "I tried to kill myself by slitting my wrists. There was a lot of abuse at my house. My parents were constantly hitting each other. Sometimes they'd go for my siblings. I tried to protect the younger ones by taking their beatings... Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I would have used my dad's pistol, but I couldn't get the fucking combination on the safe open. I went to my room and used a switchblade. The next thing I know I'm waking up in the hospital. One of my sisters had found me while I was unconscious. The paramedics barely got there in time. I've been here ever since."