The Dollhouse Asylum (7 page)

Bee frowns, her lip-gloss shining. “And that would be Sal.” She pats a freckled hand on my knee. “So, do you think you’re up to the task?”

I nod.

“That’s great, Persephone.”

This time it’s my turn to frown. Picking at a tasseled pillow on the couch, I tell her, “I wish he would call me by my real name.” Or at least pick a different story to name me after. He’s comparing me to a girl imprisoned by force. My stomach squeezes, like I should try to read into that.

But Bee’s laughing her musical laugh again. “Do you think ‘Bee’ is my real name?”

From the corner of my eye I see Bee’s friend, Eloise, the one from Hong Kong, tiptoe around the lion-clawed dining table to sneak up on her dreadlocked date. She’s carrying a flyswatter and cocks her arm like she’s about to swat him on the rear when it hits me. “We’ve
all
been renamed.” I can’t believe I missed this before.

Bee nods, and Eloise’s date is howling like Eloise just caused him searing pain. He’s smiling, though.

“So that’s why he wants me to meet you all,” I tell Bee over the mock howls of pain. “There must be something important about our names—like a tie to literature, since I’m Persephone.”
A higher meaning
. That’s why I love Teo; it’s always like that with him.

Bee rubs her hands together like she’s brushing them clean, stands—her red dress has an intentional slit, unlike Ana’s—and pulls me up. I’m a little sad to leave the comfort of the couch. But Bee keeps me focused when she says, “That’s just what I’ve been thinking. Maybe you can help us figure it out, and we’ll all be one step closer to receiving that vaccine.”

Exactly what I’m thinking, and I love how Bee spells it out.

When I explain to everyone that it will be easier for me to learn the names if we place everyone in numerical order like on the streets, with the girls standing across from the boys, everyone grumbles. One of the Doublemint twins keeps spouting off random acronyms, and I wonder if Cleo’s eyesight is failing, because she seems to be fluttering her eyelashes an awful lot at Marc.

Apparently, I’m the only outlier; the only student from Khabela, while the others all went to Griffin. It makes me wonder what they’re good at—if they sing or dance, draw or paint, or if anyone plays a musical instrument. The pink-and-green-haired boy looks like he might be in a band, and Bee mentioned dancing. I’d love to see her perform. Maybe Teo could arrange something. There is probably a reason why he invited these kids over his other students at Khabela. Even so, seeing them sort of makes me wish I had gone to their school. After spotting one of their flyers once, I asked Mom about going, but Mayor Tydal convinced Mom that Khabela was the more prestigious school. I always liked Mayor Tydal more when he and Mom were broken up. She listened to me better then.

Bee claps her hands, drawing everyone’s attention. She told me she was the student-body president, and she must have been a great one, because they all seem more than willing to jump to their feet. She even fist-bumps Eloise’s dreadlocked partner and glares at her own, gray jumpsuit-wearing partner for being too slow getting in line. What would I do without Bee?

Beginning at the back of the room, with its large windows decked out in golden drapes, I can’t help smiling at the uniform lines of couples splitting down the center of the room. This shouldn’t take much time at all. I’ll be back to Teo in an hour, tops.

I face Bee’s partner—it was his and Bee’s homes I was closest to when Teo left me outside. I’m going to recite everyone’s names out loud in the order in which I saw the men’s signs.

“Ramus,” I say, studying his Middle Eastern, diamond-shaped face. I can still see the scrawl of his messy handwriting on the sign on his door. Wanting to get to know him a little better, but not always at ease with idle chatter, I say, “So, how do you like Elysian Fields?”

Ramus only stares at me. I thought artistic people were supposed to be expressive. I try waiting for a response, but after a while, he looks away. Only a little hurt, I turn to Bee, laughing, mostly because I don’t know what to do.

“No worries, Persephone,” she says. “This one,” she wheedles her arm through Ramus’s, “is a bit frosty. But he’s full of sunshine and daisies if you dig around deep enough.” She winks at Ramus.

Ramus’s cheeks darken; I think he’s blushing. But when he looks up, he gives Bee a sidelong look, his eyes softening around the edges. It looks like Ramus doesn’t mind being paired up with Bee. Not at all.

Not wanting to embarrass Ramus any further, and because I need to memorize the names of the others, I stroll to the next couple. “Boy number two,” I say as I stop in front of the dreadlocked boy, who’s somehow stolen the flyswatter from Eloise. Remembering the boxy letters on the sign outside his door, I say, “Abe.” He nods, which bounces the intricate dreadlocks that are piled up in a ponytail on the top of his head.

Abe opens his mouth into the widest of grins. “Pleased to meet you,” he says, extending a hand.

His cooperation already makes me like him. “Nice to meet you, too.” I point at the flyswatter. “Planning to use that?”

Abe glances down, eyes widening like he had no idea the flyswatter was in his hands. “What? This?” he asks sweetly. Then, before anyone can stop him, he crosses the divide between the men and women and swats Eloise on the butt.

She squeals, but it’s a happy sound, and when they start tickling each other there’s a collective groan. Bee, beside me, makes a comment about how this is the last way she needs to waste yet
another
afternoon, and the boy on the end with the plaid shirt and a thick Southern twang shouts something about the couple getting a room. But it’s hard to tell exactly what, because the acronym-shouting blonde mutters something with too many letters to make sense, and the pink-and-green-haired Doublemint twin sprints for the counter like he needs another snack. I’m losing them; I need to work, and fast.

I feel someone’s eyes on me. Abe’s looking at me, so I turn to face him.

“You’re working to earn the vaccine?” Abe asks, eyes wide and friendly.

I try to smile because maybe he actually cares. No one else has asked why I’m doing this, but I’m sure they know. I expect Abe to say something else, but he looks toward the ground and shifts his feet. “Doesn’t matter if I get it. Nobody left in the world.” His smile disappears from his face.

“Aww.” Eloise shifts her massive skirts before latching herself onto Abe and wrapping an arm around his neck. She puts her lips together to say a word, but stops herself and opens her mouth to try something else. It takes me a minute to realize she’s struggling with her English. Pinching her lips together, she says in a soft accent, “Don’t say that. The world is full of poss—”

“—ibilities,” Abe finishes, laughing. “I get that.” He kisses her on the cheek.

I don’t want to intrude, but I turn to the girl because the weight of my task is pressing. “So, you’re Eloise,” I state.

She waggles her eyebrows and black skirts, her lips spreading into a smile on her face.

“Well, it’s good to meet you both.” And not wanting the first boy, the Middle Eastern-looking one, Ramus, to feel left out, I smile at him, too. “It’s nice to meet all of you. I can’t wait to get to know you more.”

The next boys in line—the Doublemint twins—have some breaded things in their hands. I need to move along if their cooperation lasts only as long as their snacks.

I take another step toward them, beginning with the pink-and-green-haired Doublemint boy, when Marcus yells, “And that is the conclusion to our night.”

What
? Why’s he stopping me? First he didn’t tell me about the snake, and now this? There’s something seriously wrong with him. “But I’ve only learned a few of the names!” I find myself covering the five or six steps between us to reach him in the center of the room. I’m
this
close to popping him in the face.

Cleo snakes an arm around Marcus. “You heard him, chica. Time to scat.” I’ve never been much of the violent type, but it takes everything I have not to smack her in the face.

But Marcus folds his arms, and it’s a domino effect. Both of the blond-haired boys fold their arms, along with the plaid-shirted boy with the Southern twang. He actually looks familiar—I think he’s one of Marcus’s friends from the math meets—but right now I don’t want anyone siding with Marc. We’re all supposed to be working together to earn the vaccine.

“Why are you doing this?” I gape at Marcus as he turns away. To think all these months I thought he was my friend. From Mr. “Let me untangle your bracelets,” to the guy who sang my name. Does he have a personality disorder, or did he only recently decide to be like this?

But he shakes his head as he walks away, and all I can do is stare at the back of his head, wondering why we’re not friends anymore, where it all went so wrong.

Marcus grabs a few of those egg-roll wraps from Cleo’s kitchen counter, and my stomach growls, but I don’t have time to eat. He tosses one to Ramus, who’s walking toward the front door, and then takes a bite out of the one in his hand. Talking around a mouthful, he says, eyes boring inside me, “You should be asking yourself why you want to be with Teo so much.”

What is the matter with wanting to be with Teo? He should be happy for his brother and me. But the time Marcus noticed the connection between Teo and me flashes in my mind again, how he ducked down and scratched the back of his floppy hair like he was uncomfortable or something, and that’s when I know the answer. “You don’t like your brother being with
me
!”

It’s strange. All these months I never would have dared say such a thing. Teachers are never allowed to get involved with their students. If anyone had found out, he would never have taught again. The world is changing, mostly for ill, but
this
is one of the perks! We no longer need to hide how we feel. And Marcus wants to take that away.

Marcus scrutinizes my face for several long seconds, his eyes narrowed, and it makes me feel uncomfortable to have him so close, like by studying me he’ll be able to dissect all of my faults. Only a few seconds pass, however, before he grabs the long, floppy front of his hair and turns away. I’m not really sure, but I think he just cursed under his breath, and I have no idea why Teo’s and my relationship would matter to him.

Everyone in the room is heading toward the door, stealing more of those stupid snacks, and the complete disregard for Teo’s orders makes me want to scream. Teo
invited
all of them to come here. Well, I doubt he “invited” invited them, but the way they got here doesn’t matter now. He’s protecting us from the Living Rot. They shouldn’t be disregarding everything he says. I can’t—it’s unfathomable to me that they can be so ungrateful. They should be showing Teo some respect.

Forcing my twitching fingers to grow still, I appeal to them with the most levelheaded question I can. “Don’t you want me to accomplish my task?” I ask anyone who might hear some sense.

But Marcus and Cleo are too busy ushering the Doublemint twins out the front door, and the plaid-shirted boy is slapping Ramus on the back. I think about yelling at them to stop, maybe scribbling down their names and descriptions on a piece of paper, but I haven’t got a pad. Or pen. My heart races and I think I’m going to be sick. I steal another look at Marcus, unable to believe he’s doing this. It takes everything I have not to let my twitching fingers claw his face. “Marcus,” I say again, because he needs to know it won’t always go down this way.

The blue of his eyes lock with mine, but I can see that insubordinate flash of determination, like when he put his feet on the table at the math meet while winking at the old and crusty judge, and I know it—this time I won’t win.

“Why won’t you help me?” I plead, shocked I’ve lost my friend. I always thought he
got
me; he made that snide remark about Mayor Tydal and offered to slash his tires, just because. Everyone always thought I should love the idea of my mom and the Mayor being together, but Marcus saw what nobody else could see, that the Mayor was a fake, and he was making my mom the same way.

Marcus murmurs something to Ramus and the plaidshirted boy on their way out, and then looks at me again. “Ask yourself if it’s worth it, Cheyenne.”

He’s not making sense. Everyone should want to earn the vaccine.

Marcus’s blue eyes flash and he turns for the door, but before he leaves, he stops, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Some of us aren’t willing to play my brother’s games,” he says, the lines in his face softening. “The rest? Well, they’re just pissed you get the first shot at the vaccine.”

I take a few steps toward Marcus to explain that I’d like to be a team. We can all get along in Elysian Fields—enjoy what Teo has built. Teo will not like this rebellion, this little revolt. I mean to beg Marcus to change his mind when Bee grabs my wrist. “Let them go,” she says. “I’ll teach you their names real quick. Just don’t tell Teo you didn’t learn them all yourself.”

But Cleo’s already pushing us to the door. “Not in my house.”

I want to protest—I figure Bee and I together would be able to take down Cleo and her little black dress—when someone presses something—a piece of paper—into my hands. I look up to see Ana smiling slightly at my surprise; she must have just snuck back in.

“You helped me,” her voice is soft, in stark contrast to the loud orange shawl wrapped around her head, “so I help you.” She’s pressed awkwardly against the frame of the front door as Abe and Eloise, flyswatter flickering between the two, skirt around her.

I look down to see what Ana means, but the paper is folded neatly in half; I open it to see what’s inside, and Ana—dear Ana—has written everyone’s names with a few words of description in parentheses.

Ramus (overalls)

Abe (dreadlocks)

Everyone has a description, including the girls. I could kiss Ana, but Cleo’s pawing my back, forcing me through the door. Bee, in her red-slitted dress, is right behind me, mumbling obscenities at Cleo, and I’ll love her for that for the rest of my life.

The sun is melting over the trees—it reminds me of broccoli dipped in cheese—and I retreat from Cleo’s Egyptian world with two new, potential friends. We’re halfway down the footpath when Bee snatches the paper from my hands. She hoots at Ana, on the other side of me. “Lady, you are quick on your feet!”