The DollHouse

Chapter Eleven

Back at The Dollhouse, I feel edgy and restless. In just over two weeks, it seems my fate will be decided. If I could only have held out another week beyond that, I would have passed the test and not had to worry for another two years.

Just wasn’t meant to be. My only chance now is that I can convince them I’m harmless. And I figure my best chance at that is to show them how much I like giving orders - otherwise the sympathy I feel for the Lessers is entirely too clear.

I shoot a glance at Jules, wondering how he is feeling. If he’s right, which by now it certainly seems he is, he has no chance of escaping this, whatever it is. Just the thought fills me with cold dread, but whenever I try to say something he waves it away. He didn’t even want to stay long at the cafe, and I can’t speak now, here. I almost think he came back deliberately so we couldn’t speak about it.

We’re on game testing for the next hour. Unfortunately for me, there are only two Lessers available, and they are the ones we had yesterday.

“Want to switch floors?” I ask Jules, trying not to look at Danny.

“Aw,” Jules says playfully. “Don’t you want to see them fight again?” He grins and picks up a com.

I shrug and sit down next to him. He picks up a com and throws it on my lap. “Come on,” he says, “let’s try and make them really uncomfortable.”

I frown a little, but complaining would be a terrible idea right now.

“Hinge a door,” Jules says into his com, smirking.

I give a sort of surprised laugh. Hinging a door requires teamwork. “Fine,” I mutter to Jules, before lifting my com. “Help Danny,” I tell her.

She visibly shudders, and I can’t help it, I laugh along with Jules. The glare she gives him is icy cold. Pushing into each other as much as possible without being caught, they collect their tools and material and begin to work. They build a mock door frame, completely getting in each other’s way, and then Danny holds up the door for Sam to hinge.

“That’s strange,” I mutter to Jules as we watch them. “I would have said Danny was the macho bullshit type, needing to hold the tools. But he’s taken the shitty job of holding up the heavy door.”

Jules points at the scoreboard. Danny is at the bottom, while Sam is halfway up the ladder.

“Oh,” I say, realising immediately what is happening. “So she gets automatic pick of all the easy, interesting jobs.” I laugh. “That must be killing him.”

They work in tense silence. Every time Sam misses a screw or slips with the drill, Danny shakes the door in anger, getting more and more worked up as time passes. Sam doesn’t seem to care. If anything I think she is going slower, dragging it out on purpose. I mention as much to Jules. He nods.

“She spent about thirty seconds taking the drill battery out and in again for no reason,” he says to me, grinning. “She’s deliberately riling him up.”