Jenna was having a dinner party tonight. Jenna is my favorite little doll. She’s kind of like me: a little smaller than the others, same reddish hair, pale. Her friends, Marti, who looks a lot like Jessica, Sara, and Janine were all gathered at the table, waiting for her to serve their meal. No guys tonight. They were all down at the shop, working on Joe’s car.
“Jessica just doesn’t understand this, Jenna.” I said. “She thinks this is silly. She never had to go years without anyone to talk to, though. All those times I had to run away, I always made sure to bring you with me.”
I left the dolls to their party and went to the grocery store. I know I’m not expected to bring anything tomorrow, but I figure I’ll bring something to drink, and some chips and pretzels and Cheetos. I also got a package of mini candy bars. Everyone likes at least one in the bag. And then I need to find a jacket for Jess.
After coming back from the store, I sat on my sofa and stared at my dolls. Children’s toys. I’m still just a child. I want to grow up, but it’s not going to happen. Not for a long, long time. I can pretend to be grown up, act adult, fight every instinct I have. I’ve done it before. It sucks worse than being a child.
Thanks to Jessica and all her talk about me sitting at home alone all the time, I was feeling really lonely. I’ve had times before when I felt lonely, but it seems worse now. Now that she pointed it out. It’s like it’s worse when someone else notices it.
I’ve had months when I spoke to no-one, when I stayed alone in an old hunting cabin in the woods, or even sleeping outside. That is not life. I chose to do that because I felt like I shouldn’t be around people.
The worst was right after the last time I killed someone when drinking from them. I felt like I was a monster and shouldn’t go around anyone. That was probably five years after he changed me. I spent an entire winter in the woods, alone. I was so weak by spring that I think I was close to death. I would have welcomed it, almost, because I was so lonely.
And now is worse. Because Jessica sees it too. And the worst part is that I don’t have to be alone. I could have gone with her. Instead I exiled myself to this house that I pay two hundred a month extra for, so the landlord won’t ask too many questions about why a young girl is living alone. I told him my family left me a lot of money when they died, and I just didn’t want to wind up in the foster care system. He didn’t buy it, but he also didn’t ask any more questions.
I guess I’ll go to bed. Is it really only eight? The nightmares will be bad tonight. They always are when I’ve been thinking of the people I have killed.
“‘Night, Jenna.” I said. She didn’t answer. She never does.
Saturday, May 14 I showed up at the Sloan’s early, around ten in the morning. I stood out front, under a
tree, wondering if it was too early to go inside. But I can hear
everyone moving around in there. I think Tony is here, too. I don’t see
his car, but I think I heard his voice. I guess I’ll go in.
“Well hello Brynne, how are you this morning?” “Good, Mrs. Sloan, how are you?”
“Brynne, honey, why do you always ring the bell? You know
you’re welcome here, you don’t have to ring the doorbell.” “Thanks, but I just don’t feel right walking in without being
invited.”
“Well come in.”
No, I don’t have to be invited in. I can just imagine Jessica asking me that. She still has this silly idea that I’m a vampire, which in her mind probably means I’d have to be invited in.
“What is this?” Mrs. Sloan asked. “You didn’t need to bring anything. Did Jessica tell you to bring this?”
“No, she told me not to. I just thought... I just wanted to.”
“Well, thank you. Why don’t you put these snacks in the kitchen. Jess is up in her room. She’s got that boy up there, so feel free to interrupt.”
I could hear Jess giggling about something. I walked as softly as I could as I went up the stairs, planning on surprising her. And then Barney came out of his bedroom, the first one at the top of the stairs, and alerted everyone to my presence.
“Hey Brynne.” he boomed. He stepped across in front of me. “Hi.” I replied.
“You look good today.”
“Thanks.”
He’s twenty years old and lives with his parents. He’s not in college, he’s not working, he’s basically a bum that sits around and plays computer games all the time. I’ve heard him in there, playing until three in the morning, on nights when I stayed over with Jess. I keep telling myself that is all I’ve heard him doing in there. He’s such a creep.
“I’m going to start the grill in a while. How well done do you like your chicken?”
“Burn it.” I said.
“So you like your meat hard and crisp?”
“Um,” What a jerk. “I’m actually not that picky. I usually avoid meat.”
“After you’ve had mine you’ll never say that again.”
“Yeah, um, I gotta go talk to Jess, okay?”
I pushed past him, working very hard not to break something of his, like a rib or a shoulder. When I stepped into the open doorway for Jessica’s room, she and Tony were sitting on the end of her bed, smiling at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” Jess said. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Hi Tony.”
“Hey Red.” He stood up. “I’m taking off.” he leaned down and
kissed Jessica. “Bye ladies.” Jessica laughed and covered her mouth again as Tony went down the stairs and said a very strained goodbye to Mrs. Sloan. She doesn’t like him, and I don’t think he likes her, either. Jess never gets to hear that strain between them, I’m sure. Mr. Sloan seems to like Tony, at least.
“Here’s your jacket.” I said. I tossed it at her.
“Thanks.”
“What’s funny?” I asked her. I sat next to her. She makes me
feel so small.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” she said. She was holding back the
smile, but her eyes were laughing.
“I’m going to find out, whatever it is. You know that, right?” “Nothing to find out.” she said, losing her battle with the smile. “Do you want me to compel you to tell me?” I asked. “Wha... you...” She smiled and leaned over and started tickling
me. “You can’t, and you know it. You shouldn’t have told me so much,
if you want to make threats like that.”
“How...” I had to stop to laugh and squirm. “Do you know I
wasn’t lying?”
“I can tell.”
Okay, I really can’t take the tickling. It always makes me feel like I’m going to pee. Why do I let her treat me like this? I could stop her. I could physically stop her.
“Sto-op.” I said when she slowed down to let me breathe. “Or what?”
“You aren’t scared that I’ll retaliate?”
“Not really.” She stopped and let me up. “I figure if you were
going to do anything to me you would have before now.” “You have given me plenty of chances, letting me spend the
night so often. You are a really sound sleeper, nobody would notice
you were dead for at least a day.”
“Okay, we really need to stop talking about death.” “Sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
She went to her closet and was digging at the back, muttering to herself in words I didn’t understand. Then I heard something like ‘aha’ and she was back out of the closet, holding a box. She was smiling again.
“So I figured,” she said. She held the box out toward me. “You should have these.”
“What is it?”
“I just figured I’m done with them, so you may as well have them.”
I took the box from her and opened the lid. Dolls. Several of them. Very well taken care of, I must say. Is this a real gift, or is she just making fun of me.
“Thanks, Jess.” I said. I
felt a tear trailing down my face. “This means a lot to me.”
“Okay, they’re just some old toys I don’t need anymore, don’t get all emotional.”
“Sorry. I just don’t get a lot of gifts, so it means a lot when I get one.”
“Hey, it's not like I never gave you anything. I gave you that cool necklace for Christmas last year.”
“You mean this one?” I said. I hooked my finger under it and held it away from my neck, so she could see. “I’ve worn it every day since you gave it to me.”
“Aw, I didn’t know you wore it every day. That’s sweet.”
“Jenna will be happy to have some new friends.” I told her.
“Who is Jenna?”
“She’s my favorite doll.”
“Aw, that’s cute.” she said in a baby-talk voice.
“Hey, don’t make fun of me. Those dolls were the only friends I had for a long time. They like... they’re stability to me, ya know. The one thing I can rely on.”
“I think of your life and it makes me feel so sad, honey.”
“No, it’s not that bad. And hey, we need to talk about something else. Barney is coming.”
She turned her head toward the door and he didn’t come. She looked back at me, a little confused. But then she could hear him on the top of the stairs.
“Told ya.”
“Let’s go out back.” she said.
“Mom wants you to help with the food.” Barney yelled.
We went downstairs and out to the back yard. Mrs. Sloan wanted help chopping salad, cutting up a bunch of fruit, slicing cheese, and bringing drinks out in the cooler.
Barney had the chicken on the grill. The problem is that the table is right in the sun. I can’t stand there. I’ll burn. Usually I’d find some way to get out of helping in this situation, or I’d offer to go in and get things ready inside, something. And it’s well known by the Sloans that I burn easily, so worst case scenario I can usually give that excuse. Today I didn’t need to.
“It’s too hot here.” Jessica said. “Why don’t we move the table over to the shade.”
“Yes, Barney, help move the table.” Mrs. Sloan said.
“Alright, alright.” he said.
He grabbed the end of the table where he was standing at. Mrs. Sloan was on one side, and she reached for some of the things on the table that might fall over. Jessica was doing the same on her side. I was standing at the opposite end as him, and he was staring at me. So I reached out and made a very weak attempt at lifting the table. I got it off the ground, then let it slip back down, making the necessary grunts to show how hard I was trying.
“Oh for Heaven’s sake,” Mrs. Sloan said. “Jessica, get over there and help. She can’t lift that by herself.”
“Yeah, hang on.” Jess said.
She sat everything she was holding down on top of the cooler, then came over to my side. At that point I had the cover I needed, so I did most of the lifting. Jess was giving me kind of a scowl, like she was asking me if this was all really necessary.
“Thanks.” I said. “Yeah, no problem.” She ruffled my hair. “Not your fault you’re a tiny little weakling.”
“Don’t tease her.” Mrs. Sloan said.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Sloan.” I said. “I’ll get her back. The next time she needs help in Geometry I’ll just give her all wrong answers.”
Mrs. Sloan went into the house to get the chips and things I brought. Mr. Sloan was just coming out of their bedroom, it sounded like. He sleeps in a lot on weekends, as he works hard all week putting roofs on houses, so he sort of deserves a break. I could hear them talking about Barney getting off his butt and mowing the lawn tomorrow, and Mr. Sloan hoping I don’t come over, so at least Barney won’t spend all day ogling me. See, I’m not the only one who notices it.
I feel kind of guilty about listening to their conversations like this. They think they have privacy, and it feels a little like I’m violating that. But I can’t help having really good hearing. And it’s not like I can just choose to not hear them. Still, that look Jess gave me when I told her I listen to people for entertainment makes me feel extra guilty today.
“Did you see that dress that Amanda Bussel wore to school yesterday?” Jessica asked me.
“Oh my gosh, that was hideous. What was she thinking?”
“I think she thinks it was pretty, but it was so not.”
“I know, and she had those tennis shoes on with it. Come on, that doesn’t even make sense.”
“This whole conversation doesn’t make sense.” Barney said. “Who cares what she wore?”
“Stay out of this.” Jessica told him.
“Well,” He took a drink of a beer that he shouldn’t even have. “Why do you care what she wears? I’m not a fashion expert or anything, but you shouldn’t be talking, Jessica. Half of what you own looks like they were designed for a boy.” He took another drink, then pointed at me. “You should take tips from Brynne, she always looks cute.”
Wow, he’s really getting on my nerves. And from the look Jessica is shooting him, she feels the same way. I seriously am fifteen. He may think I’m seventeen, but I’m not. And even if I were, it’s still really creepy that he would be so overly interested in a teen girl. And the disturbing part is that it seems completely normal to him. He should get out and meet girls his own age.
“Feel free to kill my brother.” she said. He had gone in to use the restroom.
“I’ll consider it. Do you think your parents would be upset?”
“Dad would probably throw you a party. He’s sick of paying for Barney to sit around and do nothing.”
“Should I dispose of the body, or leave it to be discovered?”
“I’d bury him somewhere.”
“I don’t know,” I said. I leaned back against the tree and reached for the latest Seventeen magazine, which she has a subscription to. “I don’t think I’d want any of his blood in me.”
“I used to ask Mom if he was adopted. Turns out Mom has an uncle that she says Barney is just exactly like. The uncle is in prison somewhere.”
“Nice.”
“So do you want to spend the night tonight?” she asked. She reached up and straightened my hair a little. What am I five?
“You want me to? I mean... after I told you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay. Or maybe... I mean now that you know, maybe you could come to my house. I mean... it’s sort of... it’s not like your house, it’s kind of specific to my tastes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means there are dolls, okay.” I said, a little embarrassed. “And posters of people from some television shows I like, and all kinds of fantasy art, like fairies and elves and stuff. And my clothes are sort of on racks instead of in closets. I like to make things, like, out of clay, so I have these little villages I made around. They aren’t really very good.”
“I’d love to see them.”
“And... well... I mean my refrigerator doesn’t have a lot of normal food in it.”
“Good tip. Avoid the fridge, got it.” she said.
“And I have really heavy curtains.”
“Of course.”
“And... there’s a couple of guns.”
“I didn’t know you were into guns.” She leaned back to look into my face. “I always thought you were sort of the non-violent type.”
“I am. Look, I’m not... I’m a girl living alone, okay.”
“So you, what, get scared?” She laughed. “Seriously?” I nodded. “Oh.” Her arm went around my shoulders. “I didn’t think you were scared of anything, honey.”
“I’m scared of a lot of things.”
“I thought you were stronger than everyone, and you can’t be killed, so why be scared?”
“I just...” I shrugged. “Sometimes I get scared, okay. Wouldn’t you? And I can be killed.”
When the chicken was finished, we all sat around the table and Mr. Sloan said grace. We ate our foo
d, and they chatted like they always do when I’m here. And then I was cutting a watermelon, and I glanced over at the newspaper Mr. Sloan was reading. There was a story on the front page about someone being attacked. A witness saw a girl either licking or sucking on open wounds on a man who later died from blood loss.
“Oh, ow.” I slipped and cut my hand with the knife. Blood was going everywhere.
“Good heavens, Brynne!” Mrs. Sloan said. “Oh, that looks bad, honey.”
“No,” I wrapped a paper towel tightly around it. “It’s just a little nick.”
“Let me look at it.”
“No, it’s fine Mrs. Sloan. Um, Jess, can you help me clean it out and put a bandage on it?”
“I really think we should check it, you might need stitches.” Mrs. Sloan said. She was over beside me now.
“No, really, it’s just a little cut. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want me to call your parents so they can take you to the emergency room?”
“No, I’m fine. Jess?”
I grabbed the watermelon, telling them I’d throw it in the trash, it was ruined after me bleeding on it. I dropped it in the trash on our way to the restroom. I ran my hand under the water. It had already almost stopped bleeding.
“That was so stupid!” I said. “I... I should be more careful. Especially when handling someone’s food.”
“Everyone slips now and then, chill.”
“No, you don’t get it. If they got a little of that on their food, it
would be bad.”
“Bad how?”
“Just bad.”
“Bad.” she said. Her eyes went wide. “Would it make them a
vampire, too?”
“I’m not a vampire!”
“Sorry.”
“And no, not that much. That much would just make them
really sick. Probably.”
“Probably, why probably?”
“Look, I don’t know exactly. Alejandro, all he ever told me
was that a little will make them sick, a lot will change them, too much will kill them. And then also if they don’t get enough to change them, it could make them sick enough to die, maybe.”
Brynne, Non-Vampire (The Non-Vampire Series) Page 3