The Dollhouse

Chapter 14

"CHRIST, I haven't swam this much since I went to Santa Monica as a kid," Danny complained loud enough that the entire line could hear.

Nick threw a towel over his shoulder. "What the hell were you doing on the west coast?"

He shrugged. "My Dad likes casinos."

My thoughts drifted away from their interaction.

I began to chew my knuckles.

The week had dragged on through the swimming trials, meaning that every day brought a new kind of embarrassment. My dodgy abilities had clearly not gone unnoticed by Coach Martin, who put his hand on my shoulder and said,"I've been watching your technique, Fitzgerald. Extra laps. Just copy my demonstration."

"Right." I wished he would lower his voice.

Last night, Daddy and my stepmother had arranged a candlelit dinner, complete with a cake and a few balloons bobbing at the ceiling. It would have been a nice enough celebration, had our family not been a complete and utter catastrophe.

We were like characters from a badly-plotted novel.

The unfaithful husband with business connections, the sadistic housewife, the brooding misfit buried in his books, the chain-smoking daughter...

And me, who was checking for traces of poison in the pink piping.

The fire had created a warm glow in the room. Suddenly, the suffocating silence was broken.

"Well, this has been splendid, but I'm going to write letters for a few hours," Daddy had risen from his armchair.

He ruffled my hair on the way out, as if I was some puppy dog. From the pile of unclean plates to the darkened room, an empty feeling had enveloped me.

Arabella stood up. "Excuse me," she said in an undertone.

She headed up the stairs after him, until we could only hear her high heels creaking in the hallway above.

It was the first time I had ever heard them argue without bothering to be discreet. The wooden floorboards made squealing noises from the pressure of heavy footing.

"For God's sake, it's for the CEO at a law firm! Of course it's to do with work. It's for a client in Massachusetts–"

"Don't you dare call me paranoid," I had never heard Arabella's voice raise so high. "You can't deny you haven't been around lately–!"

I thought it was stupidly selfish to let it rip on my birthday of all days. But maybe my father didn't realize the walls of the Dollhouse were paper.

"Lydia, are you even paying attention?"

My brain returned to the present.

In the queue, my classmates were bustling excitedly; heads were turned, excited chatter bounced off the echoey walls of the community pool. I turned around to the boys for an explanation. Danny slowly lifted his bizarre goggles off his face. They left two round rims around his eyes. Nick shook his wet hair uncertainly, like a dog.

A commotion had broken out in the changing rooms. I could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh, fighting, shouts of encouragement. Coach Martin swore under his breath.

"Hit the showers everybody!" he commanded tiredly. "Finish off your laps and let's GO!"

"Holy shit," Danny gave a hoot of laughter.