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“She has a brain, does she?”
“That’s why I weigh so much. Because it’s so big. Let me go.”
“I think you have it backward. That’s why you weigh so little, because your brain’s so tiny I could call you chicken brain, but it seems kind of mean to pick on someone who has so little.”
“Shut up, stupid rich boy.”
“Be quiet. We’re going inside, and if you’re loud, you’re not getting anything to eat.”
To his surprise, she did stop struggling when he started opening the sliding glass door, like maybe she was surprised he was actually taking her into the house, or maybe she was tired.
No, she was so tough and stringy. He’d bet she could go all day long. But her head was swiveling around. She was either amazed at what she saw in the house or looking for a way out.
“Now be quiet, and we’ll sneak down the hall. The kitchen isn’t far, and once we’re there, we should be good.”
“I’m being quiet,” the girl snapped out. Her voice held irritation, but she didn’t struggle.
Maybe she was waiting for him to relax his guard.
He’d tried to stay vigilant, but he also wanted to sneak past his mom’s office without being heard.
“Be quiet,” he said as he took the remote to his TV and turned the volume up. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do to try to drown out any sounds they made.
Keeping one arm around the girl’s waist, with her arms pinned to her side, he held her off the ground while he opened his bedroom door and slid out. It was awkward trying to walk while carrying her, but he had to give her a hand, she didn’t move, and she didn’t make a sound.
They made it to the kitchen, and he breathed a sigh of relief which turned out to be premature, because the second the door shut behind them, she bit his arm, which made him yelp and drop her, and she took off like a shot across the floor.
He didn’t worry about his dad hearing anything. Normally when his dad worked, he had eighties rock music playing, and he wouldn’t notice a thing. But he couldn’t have the little brat loose around the house. Not to mention, there was a full set of teeth marks, both upper and lower, in a nice circle on his forearm. She’d broken the skin with one of her incisors, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
He was tall for his age, and she had to stop to open the door to the kitchen on the other side since their mansion had been built with the idea that someone else would be making meals for them, and the kitchen was completely enclosed.
That’s how he was able to grab hold of her, and this time, his grip wasn’t nearly as gentle.
“You little brat. You bit me. I should bite you back.”
“I told you I was going to. Put me down.”
“Not until I get some duct tape on your mouth,” he muttered. Knowing he couldn’t duct tape her. If she suffocated, then he really would be in trouble.
“Shouldn’t you be off getting a tan or a pedicure or something,” she muttered, but there wasn’t quite as much venom in her voice. He supposed she knew she’d hurt him, and the fact that he hadn’t done anything in retaliation, even though she was at his mercy again, probably should be cluing her in to the fact that he wasn’t going to. She might be a little beast, but she wasn’t stupid.
“No. I should be doing exactly what I’m doing, which is raiding my kitchen so we have something to eat.” He walked to the pantry and opened the door.
“So what do you want?” he asked as he stood inside after turning on the light.
“Water. Soda rots your guts.”
“All right. Coke it is. What else?”
“You’re a jerk.”
“I’m feeding you. Appreciate it.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
He started to grab some chips, but then he figured she probably really didn’t get much good food. Deciding he’d take the chips after all, because who didn’t love chips even if they weren’t healthy, he backed out of the pantry and went to the refrigerator. Grabbing some fruit with one hand, he held the container to her.
“Hold this.”
