The Dollhouse Asylum (26 page)

Sitting next to me on the forest floor, Marc raises one knee, rests his elbow on top, and braces his forehead like even sitting here costs him too much energy. I’d like to tell him to lie down. Go to sleep or something; use just a little bit of insulin. But that would be precisely the wrong thing to say; just to prove me wrong, he’d start running laps.

So I wait, studying his sopping wet shirt, which clings to his chest. My, aren’t those nicely formed pecs. I wonder if he works out, if he’s one of those guys with rock-hard abs, or just enough definition but not too much.

Bringing my knees to my chest, I have to ask him, “Are you doing okay?” Because the sweat running down his face only reiterates the fact that he shouldn’t be out here, but in bed.

Marcus takes a deep breath, like he’s filling up an inflatable tank, and when he releases it, it’s like he’s waited too long for it to deflate. “Know what gets me?”

I shake my head, having absolutely no clue what he’s thinking.

“You’re
exactly
the type of girl I wanted you to be.”

It takes everything I have not to smile stupidly. For a millisecond my face starts twitching, but the
good
type of twitching, because though everything’s going to hell, he’s telling me he likes me.
Likes me
. I’m not sure why, but I’ll take it.

“You’re different.” I hug my knees, trying to keep my voice from getting all fluttery. “I always thought you were playful. That’s about—”

“—it,” Marcus finishes lamely. He’s not angry or vengeful or full of plans like his brother would be; he just sits there, beaten, staring at that fence.

“You never did tell me what happened the first time.” I gesture to the bruise on Marcus’s face, imagining it was Teo again.

His lips curl into a smile. “Oh, you don’t need to ask.”

“Teo?”

He shrugs. “I’ve always been the rabble-rouser. That’s why I’m surprised my brother brought me here in the first place, but I suppose even my brother’s wishes are affected by blood.”

When he says blood, my mind immediately goes to the endless crimson oozing from Izzy’s chest, but he means the bond between brothers, and that’s why he’s making a bitter face like something smells bad. But the only scent I pick up from Marcus is eucalyptus and the sawdust from the two pairs of seven homes, which makes my nose twitch. I’m about to sneeze—

I stop my nose on his sleeve. This only makes it worse, because now all I can smell are the sweet dampness wafting off his shirt and the paints Marcus lent to me, and all I want to do is forget about my other senses and breathe.

Marcus must be thinking I’m a little off base, what with the tip of my nose resting on his sleeve, so I close the distance to his shoulder and let my head drop onto the very top. It reminds me of sandstone covered in a cloak. He’s sturdy but not immoveable, and the layer between us is thin but just enough.

“What would you do if I sat next to you in class?” Marcus asks, and it’s the warmest type of sound because I can feel the calm vibrations of his voice. “You know, if we went to the same school?”

I feel a bit foolish for wanting to burrow inside his words and fall asleep. “Share my book,” I suggest, because maybe Marcus left his book at home by mistake.

“I’d go for that.” Gingerly, he plucks my hand from the backs of my knees and holds it like it’s under the desk. It’s damp but still nice. “Book sharing has perks.”

“I’d offer you some Skittles,” I smile, reaching into a pretend pocket and handing him an invisible bunch.

Marcus gathers the little circles in his free hand and drops two or three in his mouth. He groans, then slips one inside of my mouth. “At lunchtime,” he says, “we would get Slurpees. And by seventh period I’d ask you out.”

“For a movie?”

“To a dance.”

“I’d rather go bowling.”

Marcus cracks open a smile. “I’ll bet.”

I think about night’s cool fingers wrapping us up, snatching us away from all the problems we can’t fix. The electric fence melts, and we find his insulin in Teo’s SUV. I don’t know how we’ve stolen this moment, but it’s just what I always thought it would be. Marc
does
make me feel happy, light. With Teo, I feel scared, heavy. That’s not how love should be.

The sun’s dipping low, blinking through the trees, and I know it’s almost time for Jonas’s party. We have to go back, yet it’s good for us to go back. Every second we waste out here without Marc’s insulin is one second closer to his death. I
need
Teo’s remote; it has to open this fence.

“So, we’ll get the remote?” I ask him, because now I can think of little else.

Marcus nods gravely, his eyes looking more sunken than blue. “Just be careful, Cheyenne. Because I’ll do anything to have that chance with you.”

I perk up an eyebrow, unsure what he means.

“To sit with you in class.” He smiles sheepishly. “I’d do anything to share a book with you.”

“Persephone,” Teo says when I open my front door for him before we head to Jonas’s house. He holds a small box out to me, and all I can do is stare at that black suit, thinking of his remote. I wish I could freeze time—snatch away the remote and leave.

I look down at the box in his hands. He’s offering me a present. Did my visit with Marcus make me forget I’m supposed to give him one, too? But Teo gently sets the box in my hands and I step backward to let him in, forcing my eyes away from his coat. The box is made of metal, but with air holes throughout. An insect is inside.

“What’s this?” I ask, trying to make sense of the bug. I’ve never received an insect as a present. Hopefully it’s not a metaphor for a mating ritual.

But there’s only one bug, and Teo smiles wanly. “It’s a damselfly,” he says. “You usually find them near water, but I found her in the woods behind my house last night.” He reaches over and unlatches the lid. I think the bug will fly away, but there’s a layer of sheer fabric keeping her trapped inside.

I study the insect, never having heard the name before, though it looks familiar. Wings held closely together top off her slender, cobalt body, and two round eyes stare up at me, almost like a puppy’s eyes. I glance up briefly at Teo. “She’s not a dragonfly?”

Teo studies the creature in my hands and shakes his head. “This little jewel is more slender than a dragonfly and holds her wings together, like she’s always on the defensive. Dragonflies flaunt their wings.”

I’m not sure why Teo brought the damselfly for me, but I can see that he’s proud, that he wants me to acknowledge his gift. My most cunning reaction would be to wrap my arms around him and snake my hand inside his coat. But I’m holding the bug and he’s turned to the side, which would make everything awkward. Besides, I don’t know if I can make myself kiss him now. It would remind me of how I actually enjoyed kissing him in the rain. Knowing I have to at least
say
something, I try, “Thank you.”

He reaches over and rests two fingers on the top of my hand, and while physically his touch is as light as a butterfly’s, I feel like he has the ability to bolt me down. I shouldn’t let him have this power over me. I should feel like I have the ability to step away.

“I give her to you,” Teo says, eyes round and hopeful, “because she is a metaphor for our earlier talk.”

So, she is a metaphor. Apparently I know Teo better than I thought. Anxious, I keep my eyes on the bug; her feelers attack a leaf. Maybe this has something to do with his three kingdoms in Elysian Fields.

“Do you remember how I explained what you are to me?” Teo asks, bracing an arm on the dresser that still stands by the door, covering an arch. “The strength of humility, counterbalancing my greed? All of that can be represented by this damselfly.” He points at the bug in the cage. “A damselfly is really an underdeveloped dragonfly, but some consider her to be the superior of the two. See these eyes? How they are wide apart? Dragonflies’ eyes are close together. The damselfly sees much more. I think she’s the wiser of the two.” He moves his arm away and stands up straight.

What he’s saying makes sense, and I’m not sure what to make of it. For half a second I feel like royalty in a palace, where my potential suitors bring exotic gifts. I’m finding the gesture sweet and flattering, but I hate the idea of considering anything Teo does as good. Here he’s offering me presents, when he should be offering insulin to his brother. I thank him again, as briefly yet as sincerely as I can under the circumstances, and take his arm to walk to Jonas’s. Maybe I’ll find the perfect opportunity to slip my hand inside his coat on the way.

The flat, sterile air is suffocating; the clouds stiffen, too nervous to rain. As we walk to Jonas’s, it’s like the clouds are connecting with us, with our fear.

Teo glances at my lilac dress, a silk gown barely kissing the tops of my knees with long, wispy sleeves. Knee-length means easy running, long sleeves mean a way to conceal the remote; everything hinges on finding the remote to the fence tonight.

“Purple is the color of royalty,” Teo says, eyes roving from my neckline down over my chest. He’s studied me like this before, but now it’s like he’s undressing me with his mind, which makes my stomach churn. “You have made an excellent choice with that dress,” he adds as we walk down the street, my arm resting in his.

I nearly choke as I hold back a laugh. Little does he know just
how
great the choice is.

Teo’s cold eyes rake over my face; he’s waiting for a smile, a blush, something showing I’m grateful, so I force my mouth into a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” He smiles a little, looking away.

We stroll, arm in arm, along the debris-free street, our strides almost matched. Before, this would have given me some form of satisfaction, knowing I can keep up with him, but now I wonder if maybe it’s because my subconscious is catching on—that I
am
strong enough without him. I don’t need to dawdle, wait for him to lead me now. I can be independent, which is both terrifying and freeing.

“So,” Teo says, eyeing Abe and Eloise as they kiss while walking down the sidewalk, “have you managed to decide which three couples should remain?”

“Hmm?” What can I say to satisfy him
and
preserve the lives of the other couples? “Why don’t we observe the couples—see how they behave tonight?”

Teo’s grip around my waist tightens, his fingers gripping my hip hard, yet another reminder of that time we spent together in his room. “Have you managed to decide which three couples
should remain
?”

It feels like a hand has entered my chest cavity, wrapped its strong fingers around my heart, and squeezed. But I focus, force my heart to wait before pulsing out. What would Teo like to hear? That I have a plan and I’m on his team. So I drape a cold look of indifference on my face, mimicking the expression etched on his cheeks. “Of course, but I couldn’t tell you now,” I say, as if offering a game.

Pleasure twists on Teo’s lips. “Is that right? You mean to treat me as if I am a toy?”

I lean in, forcing my head to lean into his arm, because I know I need to sell this, really sell this. Say the one thing that before I couldn’t say. Bile simmers in my throat as I spit it out, “Only if it gives you pleasure, my love.”

A low rumble bubbles in Teo’s throat. “Yes, I would say that it does.” Teo’s response is both what I do and don’t want. I’m glad that my acting has apparently improved, but I hate leading him on. I hate pretending this is who I am. But this is what I must do until we can get everyone that vaccine and find a way to leave, and by then, Teo’s hold on me will be
long
gone.

Steering me down the cement footpath leading straight for Jonas’s porch, I feel Teo rest his chin on the top of my head before kissing my hair, which only makes me cringe. I don’t know if poison has a scent, but if I were to describe how it smells, it would be cologne and conspiracy and Teo’s smoky-musk scent.

Once we’re on the porch, Marcus and Cleo stroll up right behind us, hand in hand. Clad in his gray knit shirt, Marcus studies his brother’s arm around my waist, and I blush because I wish he didn’t see. Rings of sweat cake Marc’s shirt.
Oh, Marc. Have you run out of insulin?
Cleo bends in to whisper something in Marcus’s ear, and whatever she says makes him laugh, so maybe he still has some left, but I have to believe the laugh is forced, because there are circles under his eyes. He shouldn’t even be on his feet.

Jonas greets us at the door, lips pressed together in a flat smile, nodding without so much as a word. It’s like he’s an android or something. I can’t imagine how he and Teo met. It makes me wonder if Elysian Fields was his idea or Teo’s.

As we shuffle into the living room, Cleo brushes her chest against Marc’s arm. “Oh, excuse me,” she laughs, shaking the beads on her head, but I notice she doesn’t move away. Marcus seems to freeze, and for a horrible minute I think he’s trying to make the moment last, but then he chuckles before moving away. I love Marcus just about ten thousand different ways right now.

Teo steers me to a black leather couch and gently urges me to sit, while he stands like he’s chivalrous or something.

Glancing around, I remember this room well—it’s the living room where I first woke up in Elysian Fields. The gray walls and black furniture give the room a masculine, sleek feel, one that suits Teo, but not Jonas so much. I’m not sure what type of a place I picture Jonas in. Maybe some God-forsaken land underground where, instead of people, he could stun bats.

But since Teo no longer lives here, I suppose his plans have changed. The more I’ve learned about him, the more I can see he is incapable of staying the same. He wanted the number seven, now the number three. He furnished this house for himself, now he’s stolen Ramus’s. He claims to love me, but he watches Cleo, too.

Ana looks out the windows where she’s sitting again by Sal, her face so far away, it makes me wonder if she pretends she’s somewhere else. Sal frowns at the ground, in his own little world, too. I pray Teo will spare them.

Teo has been oddly quiet, and I glance at him, but his eyes are elsewhere—over by the stairs on Cleo’s nearly translucent dress. The low lighting makes her skin seem to glow, and unveiled hunger simmers in Teo’s gaze. Men can be so predictable sometimes.