Weekly Group Therapy Sessions

A wide variety of troubled teens attend weekly group therapy sessions. Deviation from a chat that actually hasn't started yet (awk) but it's in Romance and called Nameless. Yep. GO.

Name: Galena
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Personality: Incredibly shy and reserved, but is very artistic. Doesn't trust easy and will often be seen apologizing for small things and with perfect grades. Doesn't really know who she is, but she tries to be what everyone else wants her to be.
Socail status: Introvert
Background: Lives with parents, has a sister (now at college) who they adored. . . they don't care too much for Galena, though.
Looks:

Name: Mateo Rice
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Personality: He’s kinda jerk-y but the rest is to be revealed.
Social status: The “bad boy”
Background: His dad was killed in a drunk driving accident, along with three teenagers in the oncoming car. He feels like everyone judges him because his father was under the influence.
Looks:

Galena

I am the first in the room. I have even beaten the guide for this group. Just the way I like to arrive.
It's a quiet, remote place hidden in our school. The walls are a soft maroon and the hardboards beneath my feet are somewhat soft. I see a circle of plastic chair and sit with my legs crossed, staring at the knots and lines on the wood.
The silence is soft and tasty. I close my eyes, letting it soak into my skin. I love being alone. Sadly, I run my thumb along the tiny slip of paper in my hands. I'm not sure what I did exactly to get this. Teachers shouldn't concern themselves with my problems, make me attend therapy sessions. Maybe it struck them as odd that my parents clearly showed displeasure at my 94% in calculus, but that didn't mean they could force me to come here weekly now. I could have done better, anyway. Mom was right.
I look up as the leader walks into the room and sits beside me.

Mateo stalked down hall, and found the door that led to his "group therapy." Quite frankly, he thought it was all bullshit. He did well enough in school, he didn't skip... Often, and he didn't cause problems unless people they instigated. His fingers hesitated on the cool metal of the door before turning it. Maybe it was his mom. She always had some sort of problem with him, and she hadn't tried to hide it after his father... His father left. Left. Wasn't that just the dirtiest lie? He wouldn't think of what really happened. It was just easier to lie.
He moved into the room, eyeing single girl in there. She looked familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on who she was. He had probably seen her around school or something. He didn't really pay attention to the people there. They were all so... Fake.

Galena

I hardly noticed another boy enter the room, too busy looking at the hair of our guide. Tight and unapologetically red curls tumbling to her shoulders, nicely framing her startling white skin and almost painfully blue eyes. Her thin lips pursed and pouted as her tongue shaped words, but I was still in a quiet place and didn't listen. I wouldn't be graded on this much. Eventually she stopped talking and turned her attention to the boy and the room quickly filled.
I hated the color red. Out of habit I felt my glasses with my fingertips, the only thing slightly unordinary about my appearance. Plastic, cheap, fire-engine red frames around lenses way too old. If only I'd gotten a decent mark in band. I still remember that night and the following morning.
Mom's anger vibrating the walls. A fleshy, hot palm. Sharp nails. Throbbing pain. Numbness as my old and loved glasses were thrown to the ground, and then fuzziness without them. Being sent to the basement, without blankets or pillows. Coldness. Shaken awake, still in a blur, drove to the office. Mom's fake smiles, the evil curl to the wrinkles around her eyes. Bright, red, awful, ugly, gag glasses. Filled with my prescription. And hopelessness, knowing I would have to walk around everywhere looking like a clown because I couldn't see anything without them. I cringe when someone says the number 87 now.
When I snap out of the nightmare, everyone is seated and the guide opens her mouth to begin the session.