The Hunt

Part 8

THE HUNT

PART EIGHT

I hate her. I glared at Jessica with all the hate in the world – which is what I felt for her.

 “No,” I said for the hundredth time. We had been arguing for ten minutes now, and I was getting fed up but I wouldn’t give in. Oh, hell no. I was going to win this.

 “Aw, come on! Why not?” There was a sparkle in Jessica’s eye which told me she knew I hated that film, and her.

 “Because it’s a stupid film,” I said.

 Jessica pouted.

 “Please, Lauren?” she begged. “You’ll love it once you see it!”

 I rolled my eyes.

 I highly doubted that.

 “No!”

 “Okay, let’s make a deal. If we watch your film then we eat sweet popcorn, but we can eat salted popcorn if we watch this.” She held up the stupid, annoying DVD case.

 Why did I even buy the damn thing? Now, I had to choose between a Jason Statham action film – a guilty pleasure of mine – or my beloved salted popcorn.

 I groaned and glared at Jessica. How could she be this evil? The only other evil person I knew was Elsie, and Jessica was starting to act a lot like her.

 I shook my head, clearing my mind of those thoughts.

 “I hate you,” I said the most honest thing I think I’d ever admitted to Jessica.

 And that’s how I ended up on my sofa, with a huge bowl of salted popcorn, watching Marley & Me.

 Near the end of the film Jessica was crying, and I had my nose wrinkled at the screen. Jessica was rubbing her sleeve on a hoodie she was wearing, and I frowned at her. She was wearing my favourite hoodie; it was beige with pretty, small flowers on it. It was really pretty, and it suited Jessica, but still – it was my hoodie.

 I looked at her skinny jeans, and they were dark ones with worn out material at the knees. I didn’t mind her borrowing that, because they were dated and had lasted ten years. I couldn’t even remember where they came from.

 “Where’d you get the hoodie?” I asked her. She looked at me with puffy eyes and blinked. She sniffed and looked down at the hoodie she was wearing – my hoodie.

 “Oh, I picked it from the closet after a shower,” she answered. “Is that okay?” I sighed and nodded. I wasn’t used to sharing, even in Heaven. My brothers never wanted to play with my dolls anyway, and, me being the only sister, I had most things to myself.

 “Yeah.” I sighed. “But don’t wipe your nose on it; it’s disgusting.” Jessica blushed lightly.

 “Sorry,” she mumbled. She looked at the screen and her eyes blurred. I chuckled at the sight of her, crying over some stupid film. “What?” she asked.

 “You’re crying over a film,” I told her. “It’s a bit…silly.” I chose my words carefully, picking out the words that were less likely to affect her badly.

 She shook her head weakly.

 “That’s not why I’m crying,” she whispered, intending me not to hear. But, I heard. Of course I did, I have sensitive ears, how couldn’t I have heard it? I pondered on the thought whether to confront Jessica or ignore I ever heard her?

 “You know,” she said – louder this time. “I used to think I was a vampire.” I smiled a small smile at that, and Jessica did, too. She had a glazed over look in her eyes and she thought about the memory. “I swore I was, and Dad just laughed at me. I had read some vampire book, and I was convinced I was.” She paused for a while. “I was only eight when Mum died. Dad told me she just died – nothing more – but I found out the truth.