Chosen

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Chosen Page 11

by Barbara Ellen Brink

“But I picked out an awesome spot for our vampire watch tonight,” Seth said, consulting his computer screen at the kitchen table. He sounded like a little boy who’d lost his favorite toy.

  “Jael has been out late every night for the past two weeks. She’s obviously getting run down and needs to rest. You’ll have to wait until she feels better.” Her mom stirred the ground beef and onions in the skillet with a wooden spoon. She glanced back at Jael. “Honey, go to bed if you don’t feel well. You probably have a touch of the flu. I’ll save you some tacos in case you feel better later.”

  Jael had hardly been sick a day in her life, so she wasn’t quite sure how to act, but her mom seemed to buy it. She made a face that was supposed to look sad and miserable. “Sorry Seth. I guess the vamps will live to suck one more day.”

  He didn’t look too pleased about it, but gave her a half smile and shrugged. “Feel better, kiddo. We’ll get’em tomorrow night.”

  “Don’t save me any tacos, Mom.” She tried to look as though even the thought of seasoned beef and crispy fried shells made her want to puke her guts out, when in reality the smell was making her stomach rumble with hunger. “I couldn’t keep them down if I tried. Besides, I’m so tired, I’m sure I’ll sleep through the night.”

  Her mom set the spoon down and reached out to do the human thermometer thing again – holding her palm to Jael’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish, but I guess that doesn’t mean you’re not sick. I’m sorry I made you go to school this morning, honey. I should have listened to you.”

  Jael felt a fresh onslaught of guilt. She’d never lied to her mom before. They had always had a good relationship and except for disagreeing on the whole having friends over to the house thing, they rarely even argued. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m sure I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.” She turned slowly, stretching her acting abilities to the max as she trudged to her room. It took supreme effort to keep from sprinting down the hall. Once she got out of the house it would be simple to run to the end of the road and wait for Brianna to pick her up along the highway.

  Her dad, just home from work, called to her from the end of the hall as she was closing the door of her room. “Your mom said you were sick. Hope you feel better, Jael.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” she managed a sad smile for his benefit and slipped inside her room.

  With the door firmly locked and her family all tucked comfortably in the kitchen away from the windows that faced the road, she drew a sigh of relief. Now she just had to wait. She glanced at the time on her cell phone. Twenty more minutes and she’d climb out the window.

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