rats in here. Breed ‘em even, if you want. That way we don’t
have to keep making trips to the pet store every couple days.”
“Wow,” I say. This is kind of
funny, but not really. My own personal rat gulag to supply me bodies for my
insatiable murderous rampages. The shame wraps around my throat and gets a good
choke hold going. I want to kick the thing over, smash all those colorful
plastic tubes into bits, and then dissolve into a weeping mess.
“Thank you Gabe.” I manage to keep
my voice level.
My brother beams. “We’ll go pick up
our first inmates tomorrow,” he says. “Oh, I put it together, by the way. The
whole thing.”
“Gabe of all trades,” I mutter, and
he laughs but doesn’t remember that I’m repeating his own joke.
“This is…something for you,” Tarren
says and hands me a slim package neatly wrapped in silver paper. I hold the
present for a while, running my fingers across the folded edges.
“Thank you,” I say, because I know
that there isn’t a speck of wrapping paper in this house. Tarren must have gone
out and bought it. Just for me. And cut it and carefully wrapped it. I know
that Tarren can be strangely thoughtful sometimes, but it still always
surprises me when he is.
“You haven’t opened it yet,” Tarren
says.
“Oh.” I pull the paper apart, and
it yields a box for an Amazon Kindle e-reader. “Oh,” I say again, flipping the
box over. An Amazon gift card is taped to the back.
“Dude,” Gabe whistles.
“It’ll be a lot more efficient for
travel,” Tarren says, and then adds “I know you’ve gone through everything on
the bookshelves upstairs.”
I tuck the box under my arm. “It’s
very thoughtful,” I say. We stand there for a while. All of us are
uncomfortable. No one dares instigate a hug.
“I didn’t even know it was my
birthday,” I say lamely.
“Yeah, we didn’t get you a cake or
candles or anything, but it’s not like you could have eaten any of it anyway,”
Gabe says. His smile falters when Tarren throws him a look. “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” I say.
“Thank you both. It means a lot. It does.” But I am having trouble focusing,
because on my last birthday Karen came up to school and took me and Ryan and
some of our friends out to dinner. They made me wear a stupid little crown, and
despite my protests, had the waiters sing me happy birthday and deposit an ice
cream Sunday on my place setting. Everyone gave me gag gifts except for Karen
who got me vitamins, fluffy towels, and a $200 Visa gift card.
That night Ryan gave me a matching
topaz necklace and earring set and painted messy flowers on my legs and stomach
and breasts with body paint. I thought it was crazy romantic, even if I’m
pretty sure he got the idea off the Internet. We both woke up the next morning
with paint smeared all over our bodies. Then we had our first experience with
slippery shower sex.
Without realizing it, I’ve turned
away from my brothers and am now marching up the stairs.
“Was this a bad idea? She looked
kinda freaked,” Gabe whispers to Tarren as I reach the top of the stairs.
“It’s been a long night,” Tarren
says, demonstrating his fondness for noncommittal statements.
I keep going, through the kitchen,
through the living room, and up the stairs to the top level. My strides are
fast, but I don’t run and I don’t slam the door closed when I finally make it
to my room. Diana’s room. I lean against the door and hold my breath
until the light starts getting bright in my eyes. Then I go into the bathroom
and stare at the tub. White knuckles clutching the sides, panting breath,
pink water lapping at her thighs, two hearts fluttering out of sync.
“I am twenty years old today,” I
say. I get inside the tub and tuck my knees to my chest. Rock back and forth. I
stay in there for a long time, but I don’t cry.
Chapter 8
Gabe is good to his word. The next
day, he and I jump into the cab of his blue Ford
have to keep making trips to the pet store every couple days.”
“Wow,” I say. This is kind of
funny, but not really. My own personal rat gulag to supply me bodies for my
insatiable murderous rampages. The shame wraps around my throat and gets a good
choke hold going. I want to kick the thing over, smash all those colorful
plastic tubes into bits, and then dissolve into a weeping mess.
“Thank you Gabe.” I manage to keep
my voice level.
My brother beams. “We’ll go pick up
our first inmates tomorrow,” he says. “Oh, I put it together, by the way. The
whole thing.”
“Gabe of all trades,” I mutter, and
he laughs but doesn’t remember that I’m repeating his own joke.
“This is…something for you,” Tarren
says and hands me a slim package neatly wrapped in silver paper. I hold the
present for a while, running my fingers across the folded edges.
“Thank you,” I say, because I know
that there isn’t a speck of wrapping paper in this house. Tarren must have gone
out and bought it. Just for me. And cut it and carefully wrapped it. I know
that Tarren can be strangely thoughtful sometimes, but it still always
surprises me when he is.
“You haven’t opened it yet,” Tarren
says.
“Oh.” I pull the paper apart, and
it yields a box for an Amazon Kindle e-reader. “Oh,” I say again, flipping the
box over. An Amazon gift card is taped to the back.
“Dude,” Gabe whistles.
“It’ll be a lot more efficient for
travel,” Tarren says, and then adds “I know you’ve gone through everything on
the bookshelves upstairs.”
I tuck the box under my arm. “It’s
very thoughtful,” I say. We stand there for a while. All of us are
uncomfortable. No one dares instigate a hug.
“I didn’t even know it was my
birthday,” I say lamely.
“Yeah, we didn’t get you a cake or
candles or anything, but it’s not like you could have eaten any of it anyway,”
Gabe says. His smile falters when Tarren throws him a look. “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m just tired,” I say.
“Thank you both. It means a lot. It does.” But I am having trouble focusing,
because on my last birthday Karen came up to school and took me and Ryan and
some of our friends out to dinner. They made me wear a stupid little crown, and
despite my protests, had the waiters sing me happy birthday and deposit an ice
cream Sunday on my place setting. Everyone gave me gag gifts except for Karen
who got me vitamins, fluffy towels, and a $200 Visa gift card.
That night Ryan gave me a matching
topaz necklace and earring set and painted messy flowers on my legs and stomach
and breasts with body paint. I thought it was crazy romantic, even if I’m
pretty sure he got the idea off the Internet. We both woke up the next morning
with paint smeared all over our bodies. Then we had our first experience with
slippery shower sex.
Without realizing it, I’ve turned
away from my brothers and am now marching up the stairs.
“Was this a bad idea? She looked
kinda freaked,” Gabe whispers to Tarren as I reach the top of the stairs.
“It’s been a long night,” Tarren
says, demonstrating his fondness for noncommittal statements.
I keep going, through the kitchen,
through the living room, and up the stairs to the top level. My strides are
fast, but I don’t run and I don’t slam the door closed when I finally make it
to my room. Diana’s room. I lean against the door and hold my breath
until the light starts getting bright in my eyes. Then I go into the bathroom
and stare at the tub. White knuckles clutching the sides, panting breath,
pink water lapping at her thighs, two hearts fluttering out of sync.
“I am twenty years old today,” I
say. I get inside the tub and tuck my knees to my chest. Rock back and forth. I
stay in there for a long time, but I don’t cry.
Chapter 8
Gabe is good to his word. The next
day, he and I jump into the cab of his blue Ford
Similar Books
