maybe she is right. I might be a freak. When I look in the mirror, I’m not sure what I see, me or a freak. Mom and Dad think I’m a liar because of all the things I’ve said about my older sister. “What are you talking about? Your sister’s sweet as pie. Everybody knows that.”
Hating myself for every step I take, I go into the bedroom. I pull the new doll out of my most secret hiding place, the one she hasn’t found yet.
I walk back into the dining room, my feet dragging but pulled along like she’s tugging on my leash. Which she actually does, sometimes. Puts Jingles’ collar and leash on me and takes me for a walk, outside, where everybody except Mom and Dad can see.
Her hands are mean to my doll, and then she throws it on the floor.
I kneel down next to the doll, with her head hanging sideways and her new outfit torn. I wrap her in a washcloth to keep people, especially my jerky relatives, from seeing her bare front.
If only other people could see how mean my sister is. But they only see her shiny hair and her pretty face and her woman’s body and that she moves like a cat, real smooth.
They don’t see what’s inside her the way I do. Her black, black heart. If I could, I’d rip it out of her and feed it to Jingles. Whenever nobody’s looking, she pulls Jingles’ ears or tail and then shoves him at me, like I did it. I would never hurt him. Jingles is nervous around me, and it’s not my fault.
But she’s my sister, and I’m supposed to love her. I guess I do, kind of. She’s a lot easier to love when she’s not around.
She didn’t have to do that to my doll, though.
Chapter 8
A LONE IN HER OFFICE, PJ dialed her home number. Thomas picked up on the second ring. He must be waiting for a phone call, and chances were excellent that it wasn’t from her.
“Oh, it’s you,” her son said. “When can I have a cellphone like the rest of the universe?”
“When the rest of the universe pays the bill,” PJ said. “You could at least ask me how my day’s going.”
“Hi, Mom, how’s your day going?”
“Rotten, thank you. I left some meatloaf in the refrigerator for your lunch.” PJ glanced at the time. It was nearly one in the afternoon.
“I just finished breakfast,” Thomas said. “We need more eggs.”
Again?
“Orange juice, too.”
“I’ll make your grocery needs a priority,” PJ said. “They’ll come right after winning a car on The Price is Right .”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I wanted to make sure you finish your homework before you start on that RPG stuff.”
Thomas had discovered MMORPG—Massive Multi-player Online Role Playing Games. One in particular, The Gem Sword of Seryth, had captivated him. He’d gotten so wrapped up in it that his intermediate grade report included a couple of D’s. The private school he was attending, Jamison Academy, was piling on the homework as the first semester came to an end. The workload was high, and the expectations even higher. She knew Thomas was up to it, though, and getting him into the academy gave her peace of mind.
After an incident in which Thomas was threatened with a knife outside his public school, PJ’d had enough. Paying the tuition made money tight in other areas, but both of them would rather eat macaroni and cheese and Ramen noodles than have Thomas try to cope. Her brilliant, gentle, sensitive son was thriving at Jamison.
“Yeah, I’ll get it done.”
“Remember, you have a math test.”
“Mom.”
It was time to change the subject. “Are you seeing Winston today?”
Winston Lakeland was Thomas’s best friend. He’d been on the waiting list to get into Jamison, too, but Thomas was the last one on the list to get a slot. Both of them were hoping for a vacancy to turn up soon, for some family to move or some kid to flunk out. In the meantime, the boys saw each other on weekends. And online.
“Later. I think he’s still asleep. When will you be home?”
The question jabbed PJ right in the extra
Hating myself for every step I take, I go into the bedroom. I pull the new doll out of my most secret hiding place, the one she hasn’t found yet.
I walk back into the dining room, my feet dragging but pulled along like she’s tugging on my leash. Which she actually does, sometimes. Puts Jingles’ collar and leash on me and takes me for a walk, outside, where everybody except Mom and Dad can see.
Her hands are mean to my doll, and then she throws it on the floor.
I kneel down next to the doll, with her head hanging sideways and her new outfit torn. I wrap her in a washcloth to keep people, especially my jerky relatives, from seeing her bare front.
If only other people could see how mean my sister is. But they only see her shiny hair and her pretty face and her woman’s body and that she moves like a cat, real smooth.
They don’t see what’s inside her the way I do. Her black, black heart. If I could, I’d rip it out of her and feed it to Jingles. Whenever nobody’s looking, she pulls Jingles’ ears or tail and then shoves him at me, like I did it. I would never hurt him. Jingles is nervous around me, and it’s not my fault.
But she’s my sister, and I’m supposed to love her. I guess I do, kind of. She’s a lot easier to love when she’s not around.
She didn’t have to do that to my doll, though.
Chapter 8
A LONE IN HER OFFICE, PJ dialed her home number. Thomas picked up on the second ring. He must be waiting for a phone call, and chances were excellent that it wasn’t from her.
“Oh, it’s you,” her son said. “When can I have a cellphone like the rest of the universe?”
“When the rest of the universe pays the bill,” PJ said. “You could at least ask me how my day’s going.”
“Hi, Mom, how’s your day going?”
“Rotten, thank you. I left some meatloaf in the refrigerator for your lunch.” PJ glanced at the time. It was nearly one in the afternoon.
“I just finished breakfast,” Thomas said. “We need more eggs.”
Again?
“Orange juice, too.”
“I’ll make your grocery needs a priority,” PJ said. “They’ll come right after winning a car on The Price is Right .”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I wanted to make sure you finish your homework before you start on that RPG stuff.”
Thomas had discovered MMORPG—Massive Multi-player Online Role Playing Games. One in particular, The Gem Sword of Seryth, had captivated him. He’d gotten so wrapped up in it that his intermediate grade report included a couple of D’s. The private school he was attending, Jamison Academy, was piling on the homework as the first semester came to an end. The workload was high, and the expectations even higher. She knew Thomas was up to it, though, and getting him into the academy gave her peace of mind.
After an incident in which Thomas was threatened with a knife outside his public school, PJ’d had enough. Paying the tuition made money tight in other areas, but both of them would rather eat macaroni and cheese and Ramen noodles than have Thomas try to cope. Her brilliant, gentle, sensitive son was thriving at Jamison.
“Yeah, I’ll get it done.”
“Remember, you have a math test.”
“Mom.”
It was time to change the subject. “Are you seeing Winston today?”
Winston Lakeland was Thomas’s best friend. He’d been on the waiting list to get into Jamison, too, but Thomas was the last one on the list to get a slot. Both of them were hoping for a vacancy to turn up soon, for some family to move or some kid to flunk out. In the meantime, the boys saw each other on weekends. And online.
“Later. I think he’s still asleep. When will you be home?”
The question jabbed PJ right in the extra
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