Authors: Tara West
I scooted toward the edge of my seat. “You didn’t mean to take it?”
“No,” she chuckled, “but it was a powerful craving.”
No wonder she didn’t have many friends. If I hadn’t been used to strange happenings between me and my friends, I would’ve bolted for the door when Grandma lifted that wine bottle. Then a thought struck me. Grandma said this was a family trait.
Then Mother?
No way!
“What’s Mother’s gift?”
“That is for her to tell.” Grandma sank back in her chair. “She likes to pretend she’s normal, so I suspect she’d be pretty angry with me for revealing her gift.”
Lost in thought, I chewed on my lip, trying to recall some sign. I really, really wanted to know. “I don’t remember seeing her do anything weird.”
“No, your mother tries to deny her ability.”
“Why?” I asked.
“She likes things to be…” Grandma paused, looking as if she was trying to find the right word, “normal.”
No, Mother wanted more than normal. Sometimes I felt she tried too hard to make our family perfect. Was she just doing this to disguise the fact we were freaks?
“Anyway, it’s a shame she doesn’t use her gift now. I suspect it could come in pretty handy with two teenagers in the house.”
What was Mother’s gift, and why would she need it with teenagers? Did Mother know I had a gift? She had to. Maybe that was why she always disapproved of me. If she refused to use her gift, did she resent me for using mine?
This would explain why she liked Mike better than me. He was normal, and I reminded her of our family freak gene.
I suddenly realized what I had to do to gain Mother’s respect. Before Mother could accept me for me, she had to face the fact she was strange, too. Now all I needed to do was figure out what made her so strange.
****
Sitting across from Mother at the dinner table, I saw through her for the first time. With each precise, dainty little nibble, she was the image of perfection—on the exterior. Now I knew she struggled to appear normal while knowing she was a freak.
What was her gift? My brain gnawed on that question while my insides were gnawing on each other. I shifted focus to my plate. Rice, carrots and salad. No meat.
Thump. Thump.
My attention was riveted to my brother as he pounded the last of the steak sauce all over his juicy T-bone. “This looks like a delicious steak, Ted.” Mike nodded to my step-dad and then sneered at me while sucking the sticky steak sauce off his finger.
What a waste of a good piece of meat. Didn’t he realize the flavorful juices, spilling from the perfectly grilled, medium-rare, choice-cut steak, would be overpowered by the sauce?
“That looks like a tasty salad, Sis.” Mike shoved a huge, syrupy morsel into his mouth. “Sure you don’t want a bite of my steak?”
“Why don’t you bite me?” I spat.
“Allison Jenette!” Mother shrieked through the noisy din of silverware hitting her plate.
“Sorry, Mike,” I flashed him a forced smile, “but I’m almost full from this salad.”
Grrrrr.
“What was that?” Mother’s eyes widened.
Ted lifted the tablecloth, his head disappearing under the table. “I don’t see Patches under here.”
“Sounded like AJ’s stomach.” Mike laughed.
Mother rolled her eyes. “I knew this diet was a bad idea.”
I clenched my silverware. “It’s not a diet; it’s a lifestyle change.”
But as I fought the dizziness creeping into my head, I thought this change wasn’t working out. I wasn’t a rabbit. I needed real food. Still, I couldn’t back out of it now. That would only give Mother one more reason to gloat that she was right.
“I think you’re just doing it to piss Mom off.”
Mike spoke with his mouth full, making sure I got a good glimpse of his chewed meat.
My upper lip turned in a snarl. Pangs of hunger were replaced by a burning desire to punch Mike in the face. “Kind-of like you always do stuff to piss me off?”
“Enough!” Grandma threw both hands in the air, her booming voice ricocheted in my brain. “Grandma is trying to enjoy dinner.” Grandma winked at me before dropping her gaze to her plate.
I sat in stunned silence. I didn’t know Grandma had it in her, but the whole table was quiet. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of Patches licking himself.
After what seemed like several minutes, Ted spoke up. “Don’t you kids have winter break soon?”
“In two weeks.” Mike grinned. “The guys want me to go snowboarding at Hell’s Peak.”
“Snowboarding?” I nearly choked on my tomato. “Like on mountains?”
“Sounds like fun.” Ted puffed up his chest before giving Mike one of those fatherly jabs in the ribcage. “I remember doing that stuff when I was your age.”
I knew exactly what kind of ‘fun’ Mike was in for. As much as my brother annoyed me, I still didn’t want him dead.
“That sounds dangerous,” I ground out.
Mike stuck out his tongue. “That’s why it’s fun.”
My jaw hardened, along with my determination. “I don’t think you should go.” Mike wasn’t going to die. I wasn’t going to
let
him die.
“What?” Mike lurched forward. “Are you my mother?”
“Don’t go!” Panic seized my brain.
Mike threw his head back, his eyes widening in shock. “Chill, AJ.”
“Allison,” Mother gasped, “what’s gotten into you?”
Turning pleading eyes to my mother, I had to make her understand the severity of the situation. “Don’t let him go, Mother.”
“I get it.” Mike threw down his silverware. “She’s trying to ruin my break.”
“No, I’m not.” Feeling my throat tighten, I swallowed hard, trying to regain composure. “You could…you could fall or something.”
“Wouldn’t you like that?” Mike spat.
“This isn’t a joke.” Tears of frustration threatened at the backs of my eyes, but I couldn’t let my family see me cry. They would think I was faking.
“Allison, this isn’t your decision.” Mother turned up her chin. “Your step-father and I will decide…”
“Don’t let him go, Ted.” I looked across the table at my step-father. Whenever Mother and I disagreed, he usually came to my rescue. Ted was smart. He had to stop Mike from killing himself.
“My buddies and I spent plenty of winters at Hell’s Peak when we were growin’ up. You’re getting worked up over nothing, AJ.”
“No, I’m not.” I turned to my Grandma. My last hope. “Grandma, you understand. You know he can’t go.”
Relief washed through me as Grandma gave me a look of understanding.
She set down her napkin, folding her hands in front of her. “I think you should listen to the girl, Margaret. She has
very
strong intuition.”
Mother’s eyes looked on fire. She twisted her lips before turning up her nose. “There is no such thing as strong intuition.”
I gasped in disbelief. How could Mother ignore my gift when her own son’s life was at stake?
Laughing under her breath, Grandma shook her head. “What would you rather I called it?”
“Nothing,” Mother spat. “Allison is just a normal kid.”
“Mother.” I pounded my fists on the table. “Please.”
“Mom,” Mike whined, “please.”
But Mother ignored both of us, as her heated eyes were locked with Grandma’s.
“You can go, Mike,” she said with frozen features.
“You’ll let him die!” I screamed.
Suddenly, Mother jerked away from her stare-down with Grandma. “Go to your room, Allison.”
The tears flowed freely, as I threw back my chair and ran to my room. Before I could reach the door, my heart clenched at the sound of my step-dad and Mother casually joking about what just happened.
“Teenage girls these days are so dramatic.”
“Tell me about it.”
Chapter Eight
Picking up my lunch tray, I made my way toward our usual spot, the last table in the corner of the cafeteria. The one spot in the lunchroom that gave us privacy. Sophie, Krysta and I shared many secrets during lunch. It was our time to unload our psychic burdens on each other. Still, we had to whisper. A large table full of seventh grade maggots was only a few feet away. Too bad we didn’t eat in the courtyard. It was much quieter out there—only a handful of freaks.
I had a sudden thought of Bob sitting outside, his green hair blending in nicely with the bushes. We’d been going out for a week and I hadn’t sat with him at lunch. Looking down at my veggie salad, I grinned. Wouldn’t he be impressed?
Hoping Sophie and Krysta hadn’t spotted me, I made a quick right and slipped out the side exit. My heart did a little skip at the site of my BF. Towering in the center of a group of freaks, he looked like one of the courtyard trees. His friends were laughing as Bob showed off his green armpit hairs, which were now braided and tied in little bows. No doubt, the work of one of his sisters.
I smiled. Only Bob could do something like that and still be cool.
Just then, his gaze met mine and I thought I’d melt at the site of his large, goofy grin. What was it about Bob that made me like him so much?
As he waved me over, the freaks parted to let me through. I couldn’t help but wonder if they moved aside out of respect for Bob, or if they feared me like my teammates did. Did everybody on campus think I was a bully?
Forcing a smile, I hoped Bob’s friends would see I could be cool. The vampire girls dropped their heads, concealing their eyes with long, jet-black hair. The dog-collar and chain kids retreated into a corner, huddled around a few Gameboys. The rest dispersed behind trees or benches.
Did they think I had the plague?
The only person to acknowledge me was the kid who claimed to be a reincarnated Egyptian Pharaoh. Placing his hands together in a prayer pose, he bent forward in a deep bow, the gold bands on his neck and wrists reflecting the light from the sun. Without a word, he remained bent over and slowly walked backward into the shadows.
Bob smiled and plopped down on a bench, apparently unfazed by the weirdness of what just happened. “I thought you ate with your friends.”
Sitting next to him, I placed my salad next to me on the bench, pretending my best to act like hanging out with the freaks was a totally natural thing to do. “I decided on a change today,” I shrugged.
Picking up a fry from his plate, Bob twirled it between two fingers for several seconds. His jaw clenched as his narrowed gaze swept over me.
His silent treatment was annoying. Was I breaking a major rule by eating with my BF?
“Is that all you’re eating?” He asked.
Oh, so is that what the dirty look was about? He held a grudge against my salad? “I told you I gave up meat.”
“You might as well give up basketball, too,” Bob said evenly.
Not this again. Feeling the rising irritation pump through my veins, I exhaled, trying to keep from losing my cool. “We already had this discussion.”
Something about the strain in his features told me the smile he flashed was forced. “Are you eating protein?”
Great. Just what I needed—another nag in my life. As if my mother wasn’t enough? “Can we drop it?”
“What are you two doing here?”
I looked up at the sound of Sophie’s accusing voice. She and Krysta were standing in front of us, but I was so annoyed by Bob’s nagging, I hadn’t seen them approaching.
Krysta cocked a hip while sipping on a diet soda. “We don’t like being ditched.”
Just then the Egyptian Pharaoh swooshed past us, making a circle around our group, his long, golden cape bellowing in the breeze. Sophie let out a yelp as he dove toward her before disappearing behind some bushes.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Sophie’s gaze trailed the pharaoh before she leveled a glare at me. “I don’t feel comfortable eating out here.”
“Don’t be a chicken.” Krysta rolled her eyes before making a gagging sound. “Eeewww, what’s that smell?”
“I think that’s the smell of too many freaks in one area,” Sophie whined.
Krysta fanned her nose. “Don’t these beasts shower?”
“Bob,” I sighed, “these are my friends.”
“Hey.” Bob held out a food offering. “French fry?”
Krysta held her nose while shaking her head.
“No, thanks.” Sophie said while nodding to the tray in her hands. “I’ve got a Barfy Burger.”
“Cool.” Bob smiled before scooting to the end of the bench.
I scooted with him, making room for my friends on the other side of me.
Sophie sat next to me while Krysta sat on the end of the bench, crouching over and making a grand gesture of pretending to be sick by the smell.
I sniffed the air. Yeah, I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but it did smell a little. Kind of like rotten eggs, but Krysta was making way too big a deal about it. Not wanting my blood pressure to soar again, I did my best to ignore her.
Peering around me, Bob pointed a fry at Sophie. “You must really like those Barfy Burgers.”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “But it’s the only digestible meat product on the menu.”
And without asking, Bob reached over me, picked up Sophie’s Barfy burger and took a bite.
My jaw dropped. “I thought you didn’t eat meat,” I snapped. I wasn’t just surprised. I was pissed!
Exposing a mouthful of food, he laughed. “Cafeteria food doesn’t classify as meat.”
“He’s right.” Sophie grinned. “I think it falls in the ‘other’ category.”
A tide surged through me and swelled my brain with anger. Feeling every muscle in my body tense, I tried to steady my breathing. “I took a lot of crap from my step-dad because you wouldn’t eat his steak, but you’ll eat processed vomit?”
“Chill.” Bob raised his palms, as if creating an imaginary barrier between his lies and my annoyance. “It’s just one bite.”
Did he think that stupid excuse would work? “You could’ve had one bite at my parents’ house.
I
went meat free for
you
.”
He shook his head, green spikes of hair follicles swaying with his movement. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Shoving my salad toward him, I stood. “Here. If you’re so freakin’ hungry, you eat it.”
Bob took my salad, setting it on the bench. “What are
you
going to eat?”