The Dollhouse Asylum (27 page)

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Teo mutters, as if to himself. I don’t know if he expects an answer, but I remain quiet, more than a little annoyed that I have to think about Cleo again. For two more minutes, I watch as Teo studies Cleo—her low neckline, the almost animalistic curl to her lips. She whips her beads frequently, all of her advances directed toward Marc, but Marc’s running his fingers over his insulin pump, which is both the best and worst thing. Best, because that means he’s ignoring Cleo, worst because it means we need to get him insulin,
now
.

“You are being rather dull,” Teo says, without glancing away from Cleo and her Scotch tape dress.

I stare at her, too, envisioning the tape getting mangled in all the right places, and then getting stuck; I have all sorts of ideas for improving the way Cleo looks. But what was Teo saying? That I’m being rather dull. So I give him the first cop out that comes to mind. “You know how I feel.”

Teo tsks his tongue, and I know he expects more. “Why must you always be so transparent?” Which is hilarious, considering my Scotch tape idea. “Take Cleopatra, for instance,” he adds. “She has a catty sensuality. You might try that.”

I study Cleo over by those wrought-iron stairs, knowing that’s where I usually am, wondering how I usually look. Obviously, I don’t have the boobs, and my skin is like sheetrock next to hers, but Cleo’s hands rove around Marc’s waist and I can’t help but think she’s a little ridiculous. I like that I can keep my hands to myself. Most of the time, anyway. Of course, there have been mess-ups, like that time with Teo in his room, and that time in the rain, but I have learned from my mistakes.

The only thing I can think to say to Teo is that his taste is temporarily off, but that will make him mad, so I don’t say anything. Plus, now Marc’s joining Romeo and Juliet’s card game in the center of the room. He pulls up an end table and sits, and it takes a bit of concentration not to cheer. He told me I was
exactly
the type of girl he thought I’d be,
and
he said I was pretty.

But Teo doesn’t seem to like Marc’s reaction to Cleo, because he hisses, “Fool,” before striding across the room to Cleo, who’s frowning at Marcus for leaving her alone.

Reaching inside his coat, Teo pulls out a handkerchief and offers it to Cleo with a smile, like he’s pretending she’s in tears for Marcus leaving her alone like that. A curl twists Cleo’s lips as she takes the handkerchief and dabs at her batty eyes.

Teo actually throws his head back and laughs. This game between them makes it so much easier to hate Teo. But I have to be careful, because this could be the end of Teo and me. And I doubt he would be generous enough to reassign me to Marcus. We’d be his next disposables on a whim. I glance over to Marcus and decide he’s too focused on the game to look up, but then he glances up at me. Just a clear-eyed look, but it might as well be a backrub, because I’m suddenly all warm and tingly, and I can’t begin to imagine what a
real
backrub would feel like from him.

Teo calls my name and waves for me to join him and Cleo by the stairs. I glance over at the snacks, wishing I could make some excuse to join Abe and Eloise at the counter, but my heart plummets. Abe and Eloise look painfully lonely without Lance and Gwen.

Feeling as though someone’s yanked out my organs, I make my way over to Teo with the fakest smile I’ve ever had. I don’t even care that it’s obviously fake.

“You tell us, Persephone,” Teo tells me once I’ve joined him and Cleo by the stairs. “Do you believe it might be possible to save ourselves from such inadequacy?” He gestures to the corner by the windows, where Ana and Sal stand, and I scramble for something to veer the conversation away from them, because I
don’t
want him singling out Ana again.
So, tell me about your treats? Oh, I guess Jonas is hosting; where exactly is he?

“You could always have them
dance
,” Cleo says, brushing her touchy-feely hand on Teo’s arm.

The two bow their heads together and laugh, like making fun of people is foreplay, or something. I look away, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks, my gaze landing on Romeo and Juliet—no longer with Marc.

He’s gone! Left to look for the remote? Maybe get the other one from Jonas? I hope that’s not what he’s doing, because Jonas would snap his neck. But Teo could realize at any second that Marc’s gone, so I must do something—distract Teo so he doesn’t notice, and also search his coat.

“Tell us, Hades,” I say, leaning toward him like Cleo isn’t there, purposely letting my eyes rove over his body like I’m checking him out. If I can get him close enough, I can slip my fingers inside his coat. He smiles, leaning back against the wrought-iron rails. “How did you and Jonas come to be friends?” I ask, taking a step closer, unable to tear my eyes off the front of his suit coat.

“
Yes, tell us, Hades
,” Cleo mimics my voice. Laughing again, she flips her beads.

But with the way I’m openly stepping toward Teo and letting my eyes simmer, it’s like Teo’s forgotten Cleo’s here, and he turns his back on her. Wrapping an iron hand around my waist, Teo calls for Jonas. “Our Persephone would like to know how we met, my friend.” I’d hoped for a moment I could lean in, but Teo’s not paying attention to me, so I look around the room to find Teo’s friend. I can’t find him until Teo takes a few steps toward the center of the room and looks high above him, to the balcony.

Ah, Jonas. There he is. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but he looks torn, tilting his head as if wanting to nod, but his lips frown almost like he wants the origin of their friendship to be kept a secret. I wonder why.

“It was your freshman year, was it not?” Teo says, clutching my waist. “You had been thrown in with some imbeciles who could not get past the way you look.”

Anger flashes over Jonas’s eyes, but he immediately smooths his gaze, simultaneously tapping the stun gun on his belt.

I glance over at Abe and Eloise, who step away from the snack counter, Abe wrapping his strong arms around Eloise. The couple lifts their heads high to study Jonas on the balcony.

“You rescued me,” Jonas answers, and it’s like he bows with his words. I can recognize that devotion flashing in Jonas’s eyes, because it’s a look I’ve often held in my own.

Teo drops his head sideways and swivels it to the side. “But it was a mutual arrangement,” he says, gesturing up to his friend. “Jonas here is the most talented artist, devoted friend, and hardworking individual I have ever met. Tell them, Jonas,” Teo glances at Romeo and Juliet in the chairs beside us, “how long it takes you to bake the muffins we all enjoy every morning.”

Jonas looks down, clearly embarrassed, bits of pink dusting the tops of his ears. “Just a few minutes,” he mumbles, his words wafting down the stairs.

Teo turns to Romeo and Juliet, his eyes wide. “He can whip them up in under four!”

Romeo opens his mouth and says, “Wow,” and Juliet raises her eyebrows as if clearly impressed. Abe and Eloise step closer to all of us in the center of the room. Eloise keeps nodding her head, smiling broadly, and Abe’s only maybe a step behind, smiling with closed lips.

“Needless to say,” Teo looks once again up at Jonas, “I knew he belonged here. He is the cog that turns the wheel. We would be nowhere without my faithful friend. That’s why I had him host tonight. To explain.”

Eloise lifts her hand to her face and whispers something to Abe, and Cleo joins us in the center of the room to say something to Juliet. The chatter is barely above rumbling, but Teo claps his hands.

“And now,” Teo says, “I believe it is time to see why my brother insists on snooping in Jonas’s house.”

My heart ricochets inside my chest. I want to run, become invisible, and retrieve Marcus from wherever he is in the house. But here I am, stranded in the middle of this room, completely useless against helping Marcus reappear. He wants to know where Marcus is? I’ll need to distract him,
and
get his remote.

“What can you mean?” I say, studying his face and letting my eyes wander down to his chest, but when I glance up, he isn’t even watching me. That was a waste. So I wrap my arms around his lean body, try to remember what it was like kissing him in the rain, and I move my hands inside his suit jacket to hug him without the coat.

Teo’s body freezes. Oh, God, please no. He’s going to slap me now. Or maybe he doesn’t know what I’m doing—merely has something against public displays of affection. He’s going to say:
We do not touch each other like this in front of others
. In the past, I would have felt the same way.

Instead, he buries his face in my hair and breathes in deeply. “
Oh
,” he says, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

I move my pinky up, trying to search the inside pocket of his coat, but the pocket is too high, so I brace his back with one hand so my other can sneak inside that pocket for the remote. He’s kissing my hair, skimming his lips across my cheeks.

Plastic
. My heart flails around the inside of my chest. Slamming my lips into his, I kiss him just like when we were in the rain. I move my mouth slowly, rubbing my hand down the stubble of his face.

Teo groans right when I snatch the remote in my fist. I open my mouth over his, and I kiss him like hunger’s coursing through me. Even his face is quaking. But the kisses do not send ripples of pleasure down to my knees. I’m kissing him, but I’m not feeling anything. I pretend that I am, and hopefully Teo can’t feel the difference.

“Where did you get this one, Hades?” Cleo sighs the loudest sigh I think I’ve ever heard.

We break apart, and I’m panting, mostly because there’s a very good chance he’ll discover the remote on me. Glancing away, I find Marcus strutting down the hall, openly, like he’s
hoping
Teo will find him. But I have the remote! I need to pass it to him since I don’t have a pocket in this skirt.

Turning to Marcus, Teo claps his younger brother on the back. “And where were you?”

I tuck the remote in my hand and up my sleeve.

Marcus mumbles something, grinning broadly, which makes Teo laugh. I have no clue what he said, but it looks like he’s in the clear.

My next goal is to make it okay for us to go outside. A game, maybe? Like sardines, but something more.

Wrapping my hand around the crook of Teo’s arm, I coat my voice in false confidence. “I have an idea for choosing those who deserve to go.”

Marc’s eyebrows perk up in curiosity, but I pretend to only see Teo; not that that’s an easy thing to do, since avoiding Marcus’s face is like avoiding cupcakes. I turn my arm so just Marc can see the tip of the remote.

“We should play a game,” I explain, and Marcus immediately takes the remote from my hand as he passes behind me. From the corner of my eye, I see him tuck it into his jeans pocket, and I quickly gesture to the others scattered across the room—Sal and Ana in their corner, and Abe and Eloise and Romeo and Juliet clustered together in the middle of the floor. “Those who don’t perform well…” I purposely don’t finish the thought, allowing Teo to fill in the blank.

Teo tilts his head to the side as if considering my suggestion. “And what game were you thinking?”

Sardines
, but I know the game is much too juvenile for Teo. It needs to be something he can respect, something that will increase his authority as our leader. Like an emperor of Rome. I think of the Coliseum and the gladiators forced to fight within. Teo would love that.

But Marcus offers a game. “Truth or Dare.”

I almost choke. Gladiators to this? Surely Teo will not be impressed.

But, to my amazement, Teo laughs. “Ah, the memories,” he says, clapping Marcus on the back. And for the first time, maybe ever, the brothers huddle closely together, laughing.

“Our father would play this game with us,” Teo says. “He had some—what would you say, Marcus?
Talents
for the game?”

Marcus, of all things, fist-bumps Teo. “Remember the squirrels?”

Teo laughs a laugh I’ve never heard—high-pitched and entirely unreserved. “Oedipus and Jocasta,” he sighs. “The rodents never did like what Father did to their paws after my dare.”

Marc chuckles, deep in his throat, but looks away.

“What did he do?” I ask, placing my arm awkwardly on the back of the couch.

Teo’s eyes lock with mine, which immediately makes me suffocate. “Why, he chopped them off.” And suddenly I don’t like the idea of playing this game. No one should play.

But Teo claps his hands together as if this is the best idea he’s ever heard. “Everyone! I would like to invite you all to play a game. Jonas, our dear host, I expect you will have no problem with this?”

Jonas, now arranging bowls over on the refreshment counter, bows grandly, like it’s the most important job he’s ever been asked to do.

Teo glances around the room eagerly, as if choosing between Oedipus or Jocasta. But he returns to me. “Persephone. Won’t you please choose our first contestant?”

Mouth dry, I scan the room. My first choice is to change Teo’s mind completely, but I’ve already distracted him twice, so that leaves picking someone, and there’s only one person I don’t like in this room: Sal. I hate the way he’s always belittling Ana in front of everyone else. So I say, “Sal,” shuddering because I’m not particularly sad.

Sal, in the back corner with Ana, meets my gaze. I’m pretty sure he can tell I don’t mind singling him out.

“My dear neighbor, Salim.” Teo smiles. “Truth,” he licks his lips, “or Dare?”

Sal pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then glares at Ana. He blames her for my choice. That’s why it was so easy to pick him. Ana shoves a piece of celery from the window ledge into her pocket, as if she’s worried she’ll get in trouble for leaving the celery out.

Sal thrusts out his chin. “Truth.” I pray to God that he doesn’t do something that will get Ana in trouble along with him.

“Excellent, Salim,” Teo says, grinning at Marcus, as if sharing a secret joke. Sal should have said dare, then.

Marc, quick on the uptake, shoots his brother a gleaming smile, as if Truth is what he hoped Sal would say, but I have a feeling that’s not true.