Burning Up (Jacob Black)

12. Doll

Two piles of steaming spaghetti sat on opposite sides of the table. Unlike what I expected, it actually looked edible. I would even go so far as to call it appetizing. I hadn't realized I was completely starving until I took a deep inhale of the scent. My mind just registered the gaping pit in my stomach as a rudimentary post-hallucination symptom. I hadn't eaten anything all day. Well, besides the hot chocolate that Jacob made me—if that even counts. I hastily sat down and grabbed my fork.

"Thanks, Dad. This looks delicious." I started to dig in. "It is delicious," I said through a mouthful of noodles.

Charlie grinned, not sitting down yet. He looked completely and utterly proud of himself as he leaned on the kitchen counter. "I'm glad you like it, honey." He saw me scarfing down the food. "See? My cooking isn't completely radioactive." He said before he grabbed a seat and started eating as well.

We ate mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging a few lines about surface-level stuff. We talked a bit about the sitcom Charlie put on earlier. Eventually, when we were done with our food, Charlie collected both of our plates and stacked them in the sink before turning back around to me.

"Thanks for letting me cook tonight." He gave me a thankful nod. "You just looked so—I don't know—freaked out when you came home. I hope it's not something that happened at Jacob's. I really like that kid."

"No, no." I protested, barely letting his sentence finish. "It wasn't Jacob at all. Jacob is great, actually." This time, great was an understatement.

"He didn't hurt you or nuthin'? Right?" I could hear the inner police officer peaking out in his voice.

"Oh, no, absolutely not. Jacob wouldn't hurt a fly. He's so kind, Dad, really." I sounded like a rambling moron. I hope Charlie didn't catch on. "He's a good kid. Don't worry."

"Alright. I doubt he's the reason you looked so pale coming home. I mean, he's Billy's kid after all. Billy knows how to raise 'em right." Charlie started muttering to himself while he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. That was my queue to go upstairs, so as not to interrupt his nightly Beer 'n' B-Ball.

"Yeah. Well, I'll be in my room."

Charlie nodded, excusing me. We both went our separate ways. Me: to my room and Charlie: to the couch.

I pushed the door to my room slightly open with a quiet creak. I immediately gasped as I saw a pair of crossed legs lying on my bed through the sliver.

"Oh my god," I thought to myself, "Please, not another vision. That's three in one day."

I gulped to summon a spell of courage. I swiftly whipped the door open and ran into my room—I was ready to face this thing straight on— before closing the door behind me efficiently. Running into the room, shrieking, and jumping back seemed to all happen within the same millisecond. I quickly relaxed, although I was gasping for air.

"So I'm a good kid, huh?" The pair of legs I saw ended up belonging to Jake—thank the lord. He was lying on my bed with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed. He barely reacted to my shriek as a stupid, satisfied smirk took over his mouth. "What, did I spook you?" He opened one eye and peeked at me.

"Okay, new rule: Learn how to knock. Even if it's on my window. And second, get off my bed, you have your shoes on. Don't you have any manners?" Being scared shitless turned me into a chastising mother, apparently.

"Alright, alright. I'll knock next time." He batted my concerns away as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and sat up to face me. That smug look stayed glued to his face.

"Good." I sighed, closing my eyes with relief.

"Jumpscaring you isn't why I came here, though." His face became serious. "I've got some explaining to do."