Book of Love by Abra Ebner Page A

you on,
Em?” She demanded.
    I was just trying to be nice, but she had to
hit me with that. I clammed up.
    Jane snorted. “You’re pathetic.”
    I felt my jaw grind. I was
just trying to protect her. “Nothing is more pathetic than you.” I spat bitterly,
the words forming on my lips before I could stop them. “You’re
hopeless. He just pities you. That’s the only reason he even talked
to you in the first place.”
    My mouth continued to spew
things I didn’t want to say. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to
hate her, but she didn’t understand what I went through, what
I heard.
    Nobody did.

    Wes:

    The light in her room flicked on, beaming
through the blinds and onto the wall of my room. I sat up in bed,
feeling better after lying in the dark for close to three hours. I
looked at the clock, seeing it was just past midnight. I’d been
sneaking around for the past few days, hiding out of fear that
someone would notice how sick I was. I left the house before the
sun came up—retreating back to the woods where I simply slept in my
car—and came home well after dark. My foster parents hadn’t cared,
but seeing they were elderly, they weren’t really all there as it
was.
    I rolled over, looking across the room and
through the blinds. I saw movement in Jane’s room. I sat up,
squinting through the slender openings as Jane looked into a mirror
on the back of her door.
    I winced, trying to stretch my aching
muscles. I grabbed the almost-empty bottle of Aspirin off the side
table, wishing it were something stronger. I popped the top,
rolling the last four from inside. There was a stale glass of water
I’d gotten yesterday sitting beside it. I popped the remaining
pills in my mouth, drinking the musty water with my nose plugged. I
let out a contented sigh, placing the glass back on the side table
as water dripped from my chin. I looked back toward Jane.
    Our rooms were across the alley from each
other, and since we were little, we would write notes and tape them
to the window. It had been a while since she’d left me anything,
and I attributed it to the dent in our now failing friendship—or
whatever it was. I watched her eyes, seeing her look through the
mirror toward my window, but she couldn’t see me through the
blinds. I often observed her, feeling drawn to her every move.
    In this part of Glenwood Springs, each
townhouse was lined close to the other, trees and plants engulfing
most of the yards. The neighborhood was meant to house recreational
skiers during the winter months, but being that Jane and I didn’t
come from wealthy families, we lived here too. The upside was that
during summer, no one was around except those that also liked to
hike and explore the steam caves.
    I slowly moved out of bed, hearing as every
joint in my body cracked. The owl outside chortled, the same owl
I’d heard for the past week. I shuddered. Owls were an omen of
death, and I couldn’t help but think it was warning me.
    The shirt I was wearing fit tighter than it
ever had. I tried to pull the hem over the length of my stomach,
but it wouldn’t go. My body was growing at an alarming rate, like a
second growth spurt, though I really didn’t need one.
    I looked sideways at myself in the mirror
that was tilted against the wall. Despite what was happening, I
enjoyed the way I was changing. I’d always been the runt throughout
middle school, though it was handy when it came to wrestling. Being
short had given me a bulked up advantage, as well as speed.
    I stood as tall as my muscles would allow. I
had to be close to six feet now. I ducked to see my height in the
mirror. My stomach grumbled as I did. I was starving again, like I
hadn’t eaten in days though it seemed like it was all I was
doing.
    I shuffled closer to the window, grabbing
the chair from my desk. I pulled it toward me and sat, hooking my
fist under my chin.
    Jane pulled her long brown hair from her
face, her skin pale and her eyes drawn. She looked tired,