Forlot: Welcome to the Dummy House - Book Forty-One

Chapter Six

Cannot wait to add me to his collection? What did this guy mean by that? Was it a joke? If it was, then it is not a good one. It is sick. A sick joke. I am not a toy. I am a human being. I am not some doll that you can put on a shelf.

As if he read my mind - again - the boy said, "Sorry for what I just said. I should have thought about it before I said it. I promise to never say it again, but if the phrase bothers you that much...I can always keep my distance and never talk with you again. If it is what you want, of course. I-I do not want you to think that I am a creep. I am not a creep. Honest. I am just...different."

My mom tilted her head to the side and shook a finger at him. "Funny that you should say that." She placed a hand on my shoulder. "This one here said just that."

His face showed confusion. He picked up a cookie and waved it around. "Which part did she say?"

"The part about you being a creep when you are truly a lost soul. You are different."

The guy was shocked by this. So shocked that he let go of his cookie, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets. I did not understand. What did Mom say that made him surprised?

His cookie would have landed onto the floor if not for a cutie pie. I did not know that she was close by until she made her presence known. Olive was sitting in front of the boy and held out her hands, awaiting her prize. But the cookie did not even touch her hands. Instead, it fell in her lap. She pouted and picked up the cookie.

I forced myself onto my side and gave her a smile. "Oh, Olive. It is okay. At least that it did not fall on the floor. Then you could not eat it."

She brought the cookie up to her face and admired it.

I looked at the boy. "I hope that you do not mind Olive eating your cookie."

"N-not at all," he stammered. With a shaking hand, he picked up another cookie. He gazed up at the clock. "It is my time to go." He stood. "I need to go. Sorry for not sticking around."

"No need to apologize," Mom said. "Everyone has stuff to do. Besides, we should get back to unpacking."

He straightened out his suit. "If you want, I can help. I can come back and give you a helping hand." He flexed his muscles. "I work out every chance that I get."

I had to look away. His muscles...they were too much. I looked down at Olive and tugged on my hair. Olive had finished eating the cookie and stood on her little feet. I guessed that she wanted more cookies. She loves them. Who does not? Olive had only taken a step to the table when she lost her balance and fell on her bottom. Then she burst out crying. She hates falling on her bottom.

Most of my pain was gone by now. I reached over with my arms outstretched and scooped her up. I placed her in my lap and hugged her. I comforted her and covered her face with kisses. She stopped crying and clung onto my nose.

I giggled. "Silly baby."

"Silly baby indeed," the boy said. "I am perplexed. Why is Olive gripping your nose? Is it something that all the babies do?"

I gave him a grin. "You are not a baby expert, are you?"

"Nope. I have never seen a baby."

I was taken aback by what he said and blinked a couple times. "You have never seen a baby? In all your life?"

He shook his head and slid his hands in his pockets. "I have never seen a small human before."

"Where have you been living? Under a rock?"

"Eh. You could say that." He gazed back up at the clock and started to the door. "I really need to get going." He stopped and snapped his fingers. "Shoot. Forgot to tell you my name." He turned his head back to us. "Jack. I am Jack. Welcome to the neighborhood."

My mom giggled. "It was nice knowing you, Jack. Have a blessed day."

"You too." With that, he strolled to the door, opened it, and shut it behind him.

"There he goes," I told Olive. "The only boy whom I am crushing on, and I cannot have him."

She looked up at me and was sucking on her hand. She released my nose and asked, "Why?"

"You and I know who he will truly love."

A few minutes after Jack's departure, I was back in my new room and arranging my books. Dad was searching for the shooter still. My mother told him to contact the police and leave it at that, but he was not having it. My father is a tough man. He does not take kindly to folks who endanger him and his family. He would locate the person or people responsible and beat them up.

"Let us hope that Jack does not get beaten up by Dad," I said to no one as I filled my shelf with books. "Jack is a good guy. He brought us cookies after all."

"Who is Jack?"

I was startled by the voice and faced my door. I uttered a moan. It was Alexis. She was standing in my doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

I threw my books on my bed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you mentioning a guy. So who is he?"

"You mean Jack?"

"Duh. Who is Jack? Is he your imaginary boyfriend?"

"He is neither imaginary nor my boyfriend."

"Good. 'Cause I want to ask him out."