Eliza and Her Monsters(38)
“Do yours ever do that to you?” I ask.
“Sometimes. Not as often as they used to. We’ve . . . moved past that, and into other issues.”
Before I can ask what issues, he says, “Why did your brother call you Eggs Benedict?”
“Because I eat hard-boiled eggs for breakfast. Dad calls me Eggs, and Sully and Church just kind of tack on whatever egg type they can think of that day.”
“Cute.”
“I think my brothers hate me.”
It must sound too real, because Wallace actually looks concerned. “Why?”
My gaze fixes on my feet, Mom’s worn Nikes scuffing the ground. “I don’t know. Because I don’t try to hang out with them more, or get invested in what they like doing. According to Dad, they’re really good at soccer, but I wouldn’t know because I never pay attention when we go to their games.”
“So hang out with them more.”
“But I don’t like doing what they do, because all they do is play soccer. Or video games. I don’t like sports. They make fun of me for being bad at them anyway, so what’s the point?”
“Of course they’re going to make fun of you. They’re middle-school boys raised in a highly competitive, testosterone-fueled environment. That’s how they psych each other up.”
“And you know this how?”
“I watch the sportball on the television. Also I played peewee football when I was younger.”
“You did play football!”
He laughs. “Yeah, when I was like a quarter the size I am now. They had me as a running back.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I ran real fast.”
“You? Move fast?”
“I know. One of life’s great mysteries.” His knuckles rap the back of my hand. My resistance meets its end, and I grab his fingers, holding them in mine. He smiles and says, “I don’t think your brothers hate you. I think you don’t like the same things. It’s not a bad thing, it just is what it is. They do sports. You do art.”
I do Monstrous Sea. That is what I do, and all I need from Sully and Church is their silence about it to their friends at school. We don’t have to get along. They just have to keep their mouths shut. They’ve stayed quiet this long; they must have some idea how important it is. So maybe Wallace is right. Maybe they don’t hate me.
“So where’s your house at?” I ask, swinging our hands between us. “I want to properly Google Maps creeper-stalk you before agreeing to meet your family.”
He laughs again.
The walk home that Amity normally found meditative now teemed with her own unquenchable thoughts. Her guilt. If she was the only one who could stop Faust, didn’t that mean she had to? Even if it meant danger to her? It was easy to think of him in the abstract when he was only terrorizing faraway places, but what if he came to Nocturne Island?
What if, instead of strangers, he attacked Faren?
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[Unique Works - 144]
UPDATES
View earlier updates Nov 24 2016
SWEET POTATO PIE DAY.
Nov 28 2016
I have begun reading the work of human genius that is the Children of Hypnos. Why did no one ever tell me how great this series is? I’m holding you all responsible.
Dec 02 2016
So glad everyone’s loving the transcription! More chapters on the way. Will try to get some of Auburn Blue up in the meantime, but can’t promise anything. Also STOP ASKING ABOUT CUTE GIRL FROM SCHOOL. Gosh.
Dec 13 2016
Going silent for a while. Midterms to study for. Will be around the boards, though. #Mathslaughter
* * *
Dec 19 2016
As a reward for surviving midterms, the fourth CoH book. No, I don’t care if the author is a nutjob. This had better end well.
Dec 19 2016
Yes, I was introduced to CoH by Cute Girl from School. NO THANKS TO ANY OF YOU.
Dec 21 2016
I am an absolute wreck of a human being, and right now I am completely okay with it.
CHAPTER 21
I agree to meet Wallace’s family on the Friday before Christmas. For dinner.
I wash my nice pair of jeans again so they’ll start at their tightest fit and stretch out as the night goes on, and I steal one of Mom’s lacy shirts. I don’t even pretend to care what people at school think of my clothes, but if Wallace is going to look nice coming over to my house, then I’m going to look nice at his.
Before I leave, Mom hands me a bunch of flyers for her exercise group (“If any of his family is looking for a new workout, I’d be happy to have them. Let them know! Or if they work somewhere with a bulletin board, have them put those up!”) and Dad reminds me with a smile that whatever they eat for dinner is my cheat food for the week. My parents like to assume that anyone who isn’t our family eats terrible, unhealthy food. They also forget that I attend public school and therefore eat French fries five days out of seven.