Read Online Jane Jones by Caissie St. Onge - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Caissie St. Onge
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wear something a little more girly or trendy, but I have fewer curves than the letter
I
. Plus, I would never ask for the money. My father breaks his back making crackers just to earn enough to pay the rent and our insane electric bills here.
As I reached the top of the stairs to make my slow descent, I heard my dad coming in the back door, after his shift at the plant. I made my way to the kitchen in time to see him, so tired, ruffle Zach’s hair and smooch Ma on the forehead. When he saw me, he looked up and winked before taking a seat. Just like a normal family you’d see on a TV show, but instead of passing buttered toast, my mother was setting defrosted black-market blood-bank donations in tiny half-full shot glasses at everyone’s place. Except for in front of me. What I got was a teaspoon containing what looked to be about two drops of the incredibly rare Bombay blood. It was twice my normal portion.
“Jane, I thought it would be a good idea if you fed a little more this morning … after everything yesterday.” My mother spoke in that tone a person uses when they want to sound like something isn’t a big deal, but actually they think it’s a really huge deal.
“Everything yesterday?” Dad asked. “What happened yesterday?”
“Oh, nothing serious. Jane got a little sick at school.” Ma shrugged.
“Janie-girl, are you okay?” No matter what year it was or what alias I was using, my dad would always tack an “—ie dash girl” on the end. I secretly loved it.
“I’m fine, Dad, really. We should all just forget all about it.”
“Actually, Jim, Jane’s vice principal has asked us to come in for a meeting about it today. She’s under the impression that Jane might have an eating disorder.…”
“Your vice principal thinks you have an eating disorder?” howled Zachary. “That’s a good one! She has no idea that it would be metabolically impossible for
you
to attempt to eat anything without spewing everywhere, whether you want to or not!” My brother cackled and sniffed at his glass.
“Zachary, that’s enough,” my dad said. “Drink your breakfast.”
“What about Jane? Shouldn’t she have her breakfast before it turns into a tiny scab?” Zachary’s face grew thoughtful. “Actually, that would make an interesting experiment. Do scabs contain any nutrients beneficial to vampires? I could conduct a trial—”
“Zach! Eat.” My father was a man of few words, but my brother knew it was time to shut his fang hole. He sullenlydowned his glass. I couldn’t stay mad at him. As tough as it was for me to be stuck at sixteen, I imagined it was even more difficult to be eighty-five going on ten. He would be a genius by any college’s standards, yet he was fated to repeat fifth grade and middle school for eternity, without ever growing an inch. If he had anything going for him socially it was that he hadn’t had to deal with very many vampires his own age over the years. It seemed that all but the most unscrupulous of our kind considered it too cruel and unusual to turn a child. So he was a know-it-all and a loner and it didn’t exactly make him Mr. Popular. If anyone could understand my baby brother, it was me, and I loved the kid.
“Jane, please forgive me,” Zach said sweetly. Then his face split into a wicked grin. “I’ve completely forgotten to ask how your date went last night!”
Did I say I loved the kid? I may have misspoken. I caught myself wishing he were mortal just so I could kill him again.
“Date? What date?” My poor, confused father’s head swiveled around the table looking for a clue.
“It wasn’t a date, Dad. I’m doing a project with some kid and he came over to work on it last night after you left for your shift.”
“Some kid? A kid from the vampire community or a
kid
kid?”
“He’s a non-sucker, Dad,” Zach offered. “Pasty and weird, but non-vampire nonetheless.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of a stranger coming into our
I
. Plus, I would never ask for the money. My father breaks his back making crackers just to earn enough to pay the rent and our insane electric bills here.
As I reached the top of the stairs to make my slow descent, I heard my dad coming in the back door, after his shift at the plant. I made my way to the kitchen in time to see him, so tired, ruffle Zach’s hair and smooch Ma on the forehead. When he saw me, he looked up and winked before taking a seat. Just like a normal family you’d see on a TV show, but instead of passing buttered toast, my mother was setting defrosted black-market blood-bank donations in tiny half-full shot glasses at everyone’s place. Except for in front of me. What I got was a teaspoon containing what looked to be about two drops of the incredibly rare Bombay blood. It was twice my normal portion.
“Jane, I thought it would be a good idea if you fed a little more this morning … after everything yesterday.” My mother spoke in that tone a person uses when they want to sound like something isn’t a big deal, but actually they think it’s a really huge deal.
“Everything yesterday?” Dad asked. “What happened yesterday?”
“Oh, nothing serious. Jane got a little sick at school.” Ma shrugged.
“Janie-girl, are you okay?” No matter what year it was or what alias I was using, my dad would always tack an “—ie dash girl” on the end. I secretly loved it.
“I’m fine, Dad, really. We should all just forget all about it.”
“Actually, Jim, Jane’s vice principal has asked us to come in for a meeting about it today. She’s under the impression that Jane might have an eating disorder.…”
“Your vice principal thinks you have an eating disorder?” howled Zachary. “That’s a good one! She has no idea that it would be metabolically impossible for
you
to attempt to eat anything without spewing everywhere, whether you want to or not!” My brother cackled and sniffed at his glass.
“Zachary, that’s enough,” my dad said. “Drink your breakfast.”
“What about Jane? Shouldn’t she have her breakfast before it turns into a tiny scab?” Zachary’s face grew thoughtful. “Actually, that would make an interesting experiment. Do scabs contain any nutrients beneficial to vampires? I could conduct a trial—”
“Zach! Eat.” My father was a man of few words, but my brother knew it was time to shut his fang hole. He sullenlydowned his glass. I couldn’t stay mad at him. As tough as it was for me to be stuck at sixteen, I imagined it was even more difficult to be eighty-five going on ten. He would be a genius by any college’s standards, yet he was fated to repeat fifth grade and middle school for eternity, without ever growing an inch. If he had anything going for him socially it was that he hadn’t had to deal with very many vampires his own age over the years. It seemed that all but the most unscrupulous of our kind considered it too cruel and unusual to turn a child. So he was a know-it-all and a loner and it didn’t exactly make him Mr. Popular. If anyone could understand my baby brother, it was me, and I loved the kid.
“Jane, please forgive me,” Zach said sweetly. Then his face split into a wicked grin. “I’ve completely forgotten to ask how your date went last night!”
Did I say I loved the kid? I may have misspoken. I caught myself wishing he were mortal just so I could kill him again.
“Date? What date?” My poor, confused father’s head swiveled around the table looking for a clue.
“It wasn’t a date, Dad. I’m doing a project with some kid and he came over to work on it last night after you left for your shift.”
“Some kid? A kid from the vampire community or a
kid
kid?”
“He’s a non-sucker, Dad,” Zach offered. “Pasty and weird, but non-vampire nonetheless.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of a stranger coming into our
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