Imperfect

Exercise is nothing much to talk about. I had a choice of running, swimming, or lifting weights. A few kids got to try martial arts, but only if they had no violence in their history and had been remarkably well behaved.
There was even one girl, tiny and thin with delicate bones, who did gymnastics. I guess she’d been doing it for a long time and didn’t want to stop even here.
I kind of liked watching her as she jumped and flipped across a balance beam, graceful and sure. When she climbed off she smiled at me and walked over. I gave a shy smile back. “Hi. I’m Laine.”

“Belle.” She nodded back at the beam, saying, “I noticed you watching my routine. You ever do gymnastics?” I laughed and shook my head.
“I just think it looks cool. You must work really hard.” She nodded. “I even get a different schedule than the other kids to train more. I’m already being watched by the Olympic gymnastics team.”
She grinned proudly. “Wow! That’s impressive.” “Thanks.” I would’ve kept talking to her, but I was called over to start running, and Laine went back to the beam, starting her routine over again.

She did talk to me in the showers though. I have to admit it was a little uncomfortable being naked in front of everyone, but not enough to set off my anxiety. A few girls were allowed to shower alone, for reasons they didn’t share.
I tried not to stare at some people, but it was hard. At least half the girls had scars on their bodies, which I figured were self inflicted.
One girl, a beautiful black chick named Ayesha, had decorated herself like tattoos. A thick scar marked each rib, down both legs, thick lines down her arms, across her chest. Only her face was unmarked.

Another girl had actually dug chunks of skin from her arms and legs, leaving craters at least an inch deep. I think the worst I saw was a girl who carved herself, peeled chunks of flesh from her body so the skin was ridged.
The wounds were still pink and painful looking, stitched together with thin black thread. Mostly the other girls were scarred on their wrists, hips, or legs.
I turned away and faced the shower wall, not wanting to be caught looking. Laine walked over to me, fully confident with herself, for good reason. I’m pretty sure being an Olympic caliber gymnast means your body is perfect.
But she looked at me with a little envy. “Ugh, I wish I had curves like yours.” “Huh?” She pointed down at herself. “I have no hips, no ass, my boobs are going to be A forever. I have a boy’s body.”

I thought she looked fine, personally. There was no way people wouldn’t want her, with her angel face and thin frame. “Erm, I think you look good. But thanks.”
Laine inched a little closer, until her lips were near my ear. “This is awkward, but I need to know. Are you straight?” I gulped. “Yes...”
She sighed and leaned away. “Damnit. They always are.” “You’re a lesbian?” “Yeah. Hope that’s cool with you.” “Of course it is.”
Laine smiled, stepped back, and shook my hand. “Friends, then.” “Friends.” We finished showering and changed together.