Our Sister Sardonyx | ×

02 | greedy boys

"I don't need anger management; I need people to stop pissing me off!"

"Please. You get worked up over the smallest things. All I asked was why you're eating from two plates," Christopher rolled his eyes.

"And all I said was none of your fucking business," James snarled at him, with mouthful of spaghetti.

"No swearing around a child, and do you even know how spell manners?" Manny sighed.

"Child?" James raised an eyebrow.

"Little Miss Muffet over there," Manny pointed at me with his fork.

Everyone turned their heads where I sat alone in the corner chair of the long patio table outside near the pool. We were having lunch.

I was the first one that got there and didn't touch my plate until the others came. James came to the table first, and noticed I wasn't eating my food. He put on a cheeky grin and asked if I was going to eat that.

So I gave it to him.

"How come you don't have a plate, Candela?" Manny asked. James nudged him hard with his elbow.

"Less talking, more eating, Handy Manny. She can starve for all I care," he said quickly, not bothering to take in Manny's previous words and still talked with his mouth full.

"That's her food you're eating, isn't it?" Grey suddenly spoke up, his deep voice catching the attention of the entire table of five. 'Disappointed but not surprised' was evident in his tone.

"I'm telling Antonio," Christopher stated plainly.

"Pssh. What are you? Five years old?" James said, but he sure sounded nervous to me. "She gave it to me, anyway! Didn't you?"

I nodded a little too vigorously. I didn't want to be the cause of any conflict, especially not on my first day here. My head felt like there was liquid sloshing around in there and I winced.

The boys blinked at me but pursued the subject no further. Instead, they started an argument on who was the most immature.

I sat still, completely unmoving. It's no wonder I didn't hear the boys talking about me. I was staring blankly into space, just like I've always done during meal times. At that point, eating didn't bother me. I used to die just imagining what the food we had to make for Mr. Vitellino tasted like as we were forced to sit and watch, but after a year or three, I simply lost all interest.

What brought me back to the Senara Manor was the sound of James' unused knife falling on the floor, causing a ear-splitting clinking sound.

I winced and covered my ears, expecting Mr. Vitellino to come yell himself hoarse over such a loud interruption of the peace and drag one of us upstairs for punishment.

After a couple minutes, I opened my eyes. The look on my brothers faces was blank confusion. It took some breaths to reason that Mr. Vitellino wasn't here, and that I would probably never see him again.

"You're weird," Manny declared.

I bit my lip in embarrassment, colouring up a little.

"She looks weird too," James commented. "That gross kind of skinny. Pointy elbows and stick thin legs. The kind where when you bang her, you'd think she'll actually snap in half."

My face got redder with each passing second. His snide remark hurt me a lot although I didn't even know what 'bang' meant.

"Don't talk about banging her. That's incest," Grey grumbled, not even looking up from his plate.

"Who'd bang her though, honestly? Just look at her face. There's not much of a fine line between spotty and straight up skin cancer," Manny added, disregarding Grey's statement.

I hung my head down in even more embarrassment and shame. I'd never cared about my appearance before. I always thought my skin was something I couldn't do anything about. My body size was unchangeable as well. There wasn't much food for seconds at the children's home I had been living in. Before that...Well...

"Good point," James took a sip of his juice.

"That's rich coming from you two gargoyles," Christopher laughed. "You both look like you were salt-licked and sun-dried in the summer. Let's not even talk about your voice sounding like Ariana Grande, Handy Manny."

It was Manny's turn to grow pink with irritation. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that! I'm not a little kid anymore!"

"What's Handy Manny?" I croaked and surprised everyone including myself by doing so.

"The branch speaks," James widened his eyes in mock shock.

"And she had no childhood," Chris snorted. I looked away and fiddled with my fingers.

"It was one of those preschool shows that were meant to teach American kids Spanish," Grey spoke for the first time, directed at me. "Like Dora The Fucking Idiot and her deliquent baboon."

"That's a strange name for a children's television show," I muttered, baffled. I was sure I'd heard all the curse words in the English dictionary, and I was even more sure they weren't for meant for kids to hear and say.

"He obviously means Dora The Explorer," Christopher rolled his eyes.

"Then why did you call it that?" I bit my tongue for how rude I sounded.

"If you even watched one episode of it you'd know," James inserted for Grey, who'd gone back to his resting silence. "Each one is less than five minutes if they cut the bullshit."

"I haven't seen it before," I said. "Maybe one day."

Manny spurt out his orange juice, causing James and Grey scowl at him for him for the spray.

"You're joking! You're a girl! It's like saying you've never watched Frozen or something. This isn't even Go Diego Go, for Christ's sake!"

"Frozen?" my eyebrows creased together.

James and Manny stared at me like I was mad, while Grey and Chris seemed unbothered.

Just then, my stomach gave me an agonising squeeze. I hunched over a little, my black, armpit-length frizzy hair covered my face.

"Please don't tell me you're going to start crying," James said annoyedly.

"I bet she's even uglier crying. Face all blotchy and as helpless as baby," Manny said, finishing the last of the orange juice greedily filling his glass to the top then slowly struggling to bring it over to his lips.

"Then she'll stay in her room all day, blasting a sad Spotify playlist," James continued to mock.

I tried not to listen as they continued to laugh at my expense. Soon everyone was done eating and cleared off. Everyone except for James.

"I hope the maids fixed you up a guestroom. Or even better: the garden shed," he spat got very close and up in my face. I leaned far back, afraid.

"You're a perfect tease, but can't wait to get rid of you," his tone had turned from taunting and rude to very serious and spiteful.

I didn't have a response and didn't need one. James shoved me, causing me to fall and bump my side on the patio table on the way down. He walked away, probably thinking he'd hurt me, but my pain tolerance was slightly higher than it should be.

I tried so hard not to think much of his threats and clear hate.

They were only still getting used to me.

They'd have to at some point.

They couldn't get rid me.

Could they?

*

[edited]