Natalia was probably the same age as Lolly, but she could easily have passed for someone much older. Kimmie knew Natalia couldn’t be older than eighteen, because if she was, she’d have to attend a different group. Even though she was tall, skinny, had no hips and two puffy bee-stings for breasts, she exuded a raw sexuality that exploded out of her like a Roman candle. Kimmie hated short hair on girls, but Natalia had an artfully disheveled mop of bright green and blue hair that perfectly accentuated her wide-set emerald eyes. Perched on her metal folding chair, she was like an alien cat creature sent down to Earth to let the human race know exactly what was what.

During the five times she had spoken in group, Kimmie had ascertained the following: Natalia had grown up in Vegas with a single mom who worked as a cocktail waitress at an off-strip low-rent casino and dabbled in a little light prostitution when money was tight; Natalia was twelve when she tried meth for the first time (given to her by her mom’s on-again/off-again drug dealer boyfriend); the only thing she knew about her dad was that he was a degenerate gambler who had no interest in his daughter other than sending cash whenever he won big (which wasn’t that often). Natalia said she had tried a lot of other drugs, but what she liked about meth was the invincibility it made her feel. She had once run the Vegas marathon high on meth in four hours wearing Converse high tops, jeans, and a bikini top.

She had just gotten out of a fancy rehab facility (one of her mother’s old rich dude regulars got her in as a charity case, and she had been selected to enroll in an outpatient research study of meth addicts, which is how she ended up at Desert Vista) and she was now two months clean, a record for her since she had started using. What Kimmie liked best about Natalia was she didn’t seem to care what people thought of her and spoke about whatever happened to be on her mind when it was her turn to share. She found being sober boring AF, and the only thing keeping her from using again was her new boyfriend who she had met at rehab. “I wake up and think about meth, but I go to work instead. After work I think about meth, but I come here instead. After group I think about meth, but my bf picks me up and we go get dinner. After dinner I think about meth, but we go home and fuck until we’re both asleep. Oh, and if the craving gets particularly bad, I get pierced or add another tattoo to my canvas.”