The Dollhouse Asylum (6 page)

And now all I can wonder is why he didn’t tell me about the snake, why he wouldn’t get me some water. He must have seen my sunburned arms, my lips cracked from the sun. I don’t understand why he’s grown so cold.

Marcus strides across the room with nothing like the prowl of his brother’s. His is more automatic—nothing fluid, just a walk. When he reaches me, my knees stupidly buckle enough to make me lose my balance. He grips my arms and steadies me against the wrought-iron rails of the stairs at my back. My heart
thump-thumps
and I have to take an extra step.

“Careful there, Cheyenne.”

I stiffen in his grip. Now he’s my friend? He’s so hot and cold—like when he was always playing around at the math meets. I don’t know what he wants. I never know.

Cleo follows Marc’s path, her beads swaying as she walks, a smirk playing on her full and pouty lips. “Well, hello there, Number Eight.” She juts her bottom lip outward, as if in sympathy. “Did Teo-bear leave you behind?”

I scoff. I’m about to say something about
her
behind when Marcus cuts me off. “What did Teo say?”

I glance at Cleo, her mock sympathy shifting to disgust as she sees Marcus’s interest. Her eyes narrow and she flips her beads as she huffs away, which almost makes me wish I had my own beads to swing for joy.

Marc wants to know what Teo said. But I’m not so sure Teo would like me confiding in his little brother just now. Besides, Marcus doesn’t deserve to know after his little stunt with the snake. “Why didn’t you help me before?” I ask, folding my arms.

He mimics my stance, folding his arms, too. “Look, Cheyenne, I couldn’t tell you about the snake, but I was trying to help you out.”

“By chasing me away?” What kind of an idiot thought yelling at someone was the same thing as,
Hey, you might want to come inside to get away from the anacondas hanging around my house
?

It takes all I have not to laugh. He’s not the one terrified of snakes or charged with learning everyone’s names. But Marc’s eyes narrow into slits. “Do you think
I
made this place?”

And he makes a good point. I know Teo must have, but he has his reasons. He needs to protect us from the virus outside; I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, even if his plan does include hidden snakes. It was Marc’s job to warn me about the danger, and he didn’t help me out.

At the same time, I know the relationship between Teo and his brother. How they didn’t grow up close. In fact, the times I saw them interact at the math meets they were always distant. More like childhood friends who had grown into strangers, and nothing like brothers. I wonder what the catalyst for that was.

I focus on the lines creasing against each other on Marcus’s forehead, wondering if Teo is hard on him, too. But that is only because he loves his little brother. He encourages those he loves to better themselves. “Okay,” I say, deciding to be diplomatic, “tell me everything that’s happened, right from the start.”

He tousles the front of his black hair, pulling it down the side of his forehead. “You haven’t missed anything. Teo asked me to grab fourteen people from my school. He showed up with his car, and we piled in.”

I’m not sure about that. How could everyone fit? “Must’ve been a pretty big car.”

“Who cares?” He throws his hands in the air, like what
I’m
saying is stupid. “He brought us, explaining the world was going to pot.”

I throw my hands up like him, not really knowing why. “And it is. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s just like Beijing.”

Marc’s muscular chest inflates like he’s growing powerful or something, but slowly he releases the air trapped inside. “Yes. And I—” He stares at me, the flash in his eyes receding. “I have no idea why we are arguing or what about. Are you always this difficult?”

We’re both quiet as Cleo’s music plays in the background. She laughs from across the room where she’s leaning all over one of the Doublemint twin boys by the snack counter, and I can’t help wondering why I should bother working on my friendship with Marcus when he sits around and whispers with the likes of Cleo.

I brush past him toward the couches, my arm clipping his, and I know he’s offended, but he can take some time and think about the best way to help a friend. My fingers touch the place where my elbow touched him, and to my horror, it actually tingles; my body wants to “accidentally” clip him again. Which is ridiculous, because Teo is the only one who I’m supposed to want to touch. This must be a one-time fluke—I’m clearly craving some physical attention. I need to work hard to see Teo soon.

As I watch Marcus stalk away and find his place next to Cleo again, I find myself feeling a little sad. I thought he was my friend, albeit one I didn’t always understand. Like his brother, he is the type of person who doesn’t think before he speaks. Even his actions never make sense. Like when he asked the moderator at a math meet to repeat her question, “But with an Irish accent, please.” Or how, minutes later, when buzzing in with an answer to her question, he recited the entire
Pease porridge hot, Pease porridge cold
nursery rhyme before bowing for applause.

Watching him tickle Cleo around the waist by the snack counter, I can’t help wondering if Marcus thinks about any of the choices he makes, or if everything he does is merely to get the biggest rise out of people. Either way, he needs some guidance, some help. I know Teo wants to help him, but Marcus isn’t what I would consider a malleable subject. He mostly avoids direct questions, laughing them off and changing the topic.

I don’t have time to fix him.

Spotting Ana, the girl I defended before, on the other, non-Marc-and-Cleo contaminated couch, I take a breath and join her.

She picks noncommittally at some pieces of cucumber and celery—luxuries I’m sure we won’t have for long with the Living Rot just outside—and smiles a little without looking up. “Thank you for helping me—before.” Her face is round with eyes as clear as a child’s, but this scarf is wrapped around her head that mostly obscures her face. Poor Ana must be hot.

I take a peek at Ana’s bloodshot eyes, realizing I feel the same way. Everything’s been such a whirlwind, from waking up on a street I’ve never seen to learning the Living Rot is back. My shoulders slouch and it’s hard to find my smile. Even so, I find myself saying, “I can’t believe it’s happened again.”

Ana draws in a quick breath. “I know,” she whispers, setting a piece of celery on her lap. “I thought all of that was in the past.”

“They promised it was over,” I agree, and when I say
they
, I mean the scientists, the politicians, the reporters—everyone who said the cannibalistic disease would never leak. “Does anyone know how this happened again?” I ask Ana, watching her fiddle with the scarf on her head.

A girl in a bright red dress, slit up to
there
, joins us on the couch. Her red lips shimmer when she says, “Do you?”

I can’t believe she thinks I would. “Of course I don’t.”

The girl laughs, a light-hearted twinkling. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, patting my hand. “I’m Bee. It was my house you were in.”

Oh! Bee, right. “Thank you.” I wish I could say something more, so I settle for, “Thanks for not kicking me out.”

But Bee shakes her red-haired French twist, causing a few strands to fall loose. “I’m a dancer,” she says. “Kicking is more for the jocks.” She nods her head, indicating the dreadlocked boy I saw before. He’s pumping his heels up and down beside a tiny, black-haired Asian girl who’s positively drowning in a long skirt.

“Who’re they?” I ask, eyeing them creeping around the dining table like they’re playing a quiet game of cat and mouse.

“Abe and Eloise,” Bee answers, flexing her rock-hard calves. “Probably the most fun couple in the bunch. Eloise was actually living with me before. A foreign exchange student from Hong Kong—our fathers worked together. Not that that matters now…” She trails off.

My stomach turns. I’m not the only one who left behind family. Part of me wants to ask Bee about her family. Not to mention Eloise, who once lived much closer to Beijing.

I could tell her about my mom, how most of the time she likes to seem perfect, but occasionally she’ll dive into the ice cream and watch movies or read books with me. She isn’t what I would call a happy person, but the happiest I ever saw her was when she was in a relationship. I wish she could see me with Teo—the depth that we share. How we can talk about literature, and I know Mom would have joined in. Talk about how she majored in English and how my obsession is probably a result of her interests.

“Did you get the vaccine?” Bee asks me, her eyes swimming, hopeful, and I have to force away the image of my mom meeting Teo.

The tiny-waisted Asian girl, Eloise, squeals in the dining room—her date’s hanging from the doorframe, doing pull-ups, until he accidentally kicks the pink-and-green-haired boy in the head.
Ouch
.

Bee steps in front of my face. “Girly, did you get the vaccine?”

I shift my attention to Bee and look straight at her freckled face. “Teo said I need to prove myself first.” A little part of me is still hurt that he yelled at me outside, but mostly I hope she understands the gravity of this task.

Yet Bee doesn’t have a chance to respond to me, because Marcus has rejoined our group—with Cleo in tow. He smiles falsely, his grin stretching wide over his face. “There goes my brother and his brilliant reward system again.”

I grit my teeth. How can he disrespect his brother like that? No wonder Teo has a hard time helping him. Marcus only finds faults with his brother, when Teo’s only plan is to help. Teo can be harsh at times, but he has his reasons for being like that. Keeping my voice low, I say, “There’s nothing wrong with rewards, as long as you understand the scope.” Teo always has bigger plans.

Cleo rolls her eyes. “Right. Like holding onto the vaccine.”

“But he’s already given it to you guys, right?” I say, clenching my teeth.

Cleo throws back her head, the ornate beadwork in her hair swaying as she chortles. “That’s a good one, Number Eight. Now I can see why Teo likes you. You make him laugh.”

I consider saying a few choice words, all of which Teo would consider crass, so I decide the best way to deal with Cleo is to pretend I’m deaf. She’s not worth the breath, anyway. Facing Bee and Ana, I say, “You mean you don’t have the vaccine, either?”

Bee frowns, pointing her toes. “You’re not the only one who needs to prove yourself first.”

So everyone in Elysian Fields must do something to earn the vaccine. “I’m supposed to learn everyone’s names,” I say. “Is that what you’re supposed to do, too?”

Bee sighs, watching Eloise and Abe hugging on the other side of the room. “Teo hasn’t exactly told us. He was supposed to tell us tonight how we’re to prove ourselves, but that was before he grew angry with you.”

I can feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. My row with Teo is affecting everyone in Elysian Fields. Not only are Ana, Bee, Marc, and Cleo all staring at me, but so is the guy wearing overalls, that plaid-shirted guy, and his date with the curly black hair. I’m supposed to learn everyone’s names and they probably already despise me for risking their safety. So much for not repeating junior year.

The two sets of Doublemint twins are already a formidable clique, giggling together by the food-covered kitchen counter, and Cleo and Marcus seem like an inseparable pair as they move away from me to join the twins. But at least I have Bee and Ana. They seem like they could be friends.

I glance at Bee’s feet while she points her toes again, like she’s preparing to dance. Keeping my voice low, I say, “I didn’t think it was possible for the Living Rot to come back.”

She pulls a few strands loose from her French knot. “We’ve had overnight to let it sink in.”

“So you came here last night?” I pick at a few tassels on the couch.

She nods. “Teo showed us the news report first thing. A few didn’t believe him at first—like he made it up—but then,” her voice cracks, “he got a few of our parents on the phone, and they pled for us to stay.” I think of my mom and wish I had the chance to say good-bye. I can’t believe he had Jonas—it must have been him—sneak up from behind me just outside my bedroom and knock me out with chloroform. I can still remember the smell of the acrid cloth on my nose and the blinding light when I woke up in Teo’s house. Not that I would ever admit it, but Teo’s methods for bringing me here were pretty bad. He should have run inside, explained everything to my mom, and I would have gotten to say good-bye or bring her along.

Bee looks so somber now, like she regrets a few things, then glances warily at the statues. “I had plans, you know? Break free of my parents’ mold. But now, I—” she stops to wipe a bit of moisture from her face—“I’d do anything to do what they wanted and just dance.”

My chest deflates. I suppose it really is Teo who’s saved us from everything. The others, no doubt, feel indebted to him, too.

Bee picks at the old-fashioned belt wrapped around her red dress. “Teo’s methods may not be my favorite,” she says, “but we owe our lives to him. Dressing up a little is nothing compared to where we’d be without him.”

What she says is true. I’m so excited for everyone to see what he can do, the things he can teach us—his mind is chock full, not only of math, but also the literature I love.

Deciding too much time has already passed—Teo’s waiting for me—I turn to Bee and Ana. “I need to learn everyone’s names,” I say.

Licking ranch dressing from her fingertips one at a time, Ana says, “I would be more than happy to help you with that.” She leans forward, awkwardly plants her short legs on the ground, and stands, the straining fabric of her sari ripping at the knees.

“Oh!” she exclaims, blood flooding her cheeks. “I—” She glances at me, embarrassment blotching her sweet face.

I try to make her feel better by shooting her my most compassionate smile, but the giraffe-like boy—Ana’s partner—grumbles at my side, “We need to get her on an elliptical.”

I freeze.

I didn’t know it was possible, but Ana’s cheeks flush darker. She gingerly sets her plate of veggies down on the couch and clutches the fabric closed with her fingers. “I’ll be back,” she whispers toward my feet, then scampers toward the door. Ana’s champion of a partner trails behind. I’m tempted to ask him to let her be, but maybe Teo has a rule about couples sticking together tonight. Or keeping their clothing immaculate. Or maybe Ana actually wants her partner’s help.