BITE ME

CHAPTER ONE: Make A Wish

CHAPTER ONE: Make A Wish

Bree pried her eyes away from her laptop. She’s been going at it for five hours already but somehow, all she had ended up phrasing were a bunch of contrite passages that aren’t even worth the sleepless nights she’s been sacrificing.

Her story was sh*t. And it was time to scrap it like sh*t.

“Dammit!” she groaned and slammed her head against the table, messing with her hair.

It was hard enough writing about vampires without it coming out as some kind of clichéd item, available for everyone to frown upon. But somehow, that wasn’t the last of her problems at all because now, concentrating was made impossible by the news that they were moving away. They’ve lived in that apartment since she was twelve, and quite frankly, despite the leaking ceiling and the constant repairs they had to deal with, she’s grown attached to it.

“You know, if you aren’t coming down for breakfast, you’re free to give me your share of the sausages.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She whirled around in her seat and flashed her brother a sharp look, undoing the messy bun that had already hung loose on the side of her head.

Mason just laughed. “Seriously, though. Aren’t you done with writing stupid stories? I heard a thud: I thought you died."

“Yeah, well, disappointed?”

“To see you? Always.”

Mornings like this one are the more subtle kinds. Usually, someone’s heavy foot would be circling the ceiling by now, giving Bree anxious thoughts of it falling over her head and killing her. But somehow, despite the lack of normal noise, she couldn’t extract the ideas out of her head.

Maybe it was a sign to quit writing altogether since she seemed to always end up in a mental block a couple of chapters into any story. Or maybe she’s just hungry.

“I’ll go with the latter,” she muttered under her breath and closed her laptop, making her way out of the pile of sealed boxes that decorated her room.

Mason gave her a look. “Who are you talking to? Have you lost it already?”

“F*ck off, will you?”

“Hey, you can’t talk to your brother like that! Maybe I’m going way too easy on you. You even spent the entire time cursing me in your sleep.”

“Who said I was asleep?”

The harsh grating sound of cutlery scraping against the plate broke through their banter and they were greeted by Avery who was already halfway through her breakfast. She glanced up at them, took a sip of her coffee, and continued reading what looked like unfinished work she had brought home from her office.

“Morning,” Bree greeted, but all she received was a nod. “What happened to ‘eating together’?”

Avery looked up from her paperwork and began devouring her food—an excuse, Bree noted, so she wouldn’t have to answer the question.

“About us moving away, have you thought about what I asked? Will I still be able to go to my current school or ...”

“I thought you hated that school?” Mason asked and grabbed three sausages, leaving her with only one and a half.

She frowned at the burnt sausage and started scraping the blackened parts off, nodding to his question.

“Then, why’d you still wanna go?”

“Because they didn’t give me much trouble? Yes, I was practically invisible, but ... “

“There’s no ‘but’. You’re invisible. That’s the trouble.”

“Avery’s considering sending me to a prep school full of stuck-up brats. Don’t you see how that’s gonna be even more trouble? She might as well have told me to jump off a bridge.”

“Oh, Bree, don’t be stupid,” Avery interjected, but Mason just laughed.

“She can’t help it. It’s been a habit by now.”

“Okay. Clearly, none of you are trying to understand the situation here.”

Bree fought so hard not to roll her eyes. “Ave, you do realize that I’m still in high school, right? Plenty of free schools out there would gladly take me.”

“Not ‘glad’, but sure.” They both shot Mason a look but all he gave them back was a lopsided grin.

“Look, Bree, I know you’re not the best at making friends. But just consider how much advantage you’d have if people find out you’ve graduated from this school. Plus, the kids there are all trained to become ahead of their peers, and that’s all you need to succeed faster. Friends in high places.”

Mason scoffed from the other side of the table and shook his head, almost in disbelief. “Wow. Way to go teaching her how to suck up to people just to climb to the top.”

“Oh, please. What would you know?”

✧ ✧ ✧

Making her way through her fifth and, apparently, final box, Bree huffed as she dragged a huge stack of books sitting on top of an ornate rug. She hadn’t weighed in much on the idea that she should have packed the most important things first. They were only allowed to bring five boxes each and she was down to her last one. Mason wouldn’t lend her one, but maybe ... just maybe ... if she could force it into the box then—

“OH, SH*T!” A huge ripping sound and the sight of her books falling on the ground with a loud thud nearly made her forget that the walls weren’t that thick and that they had neighbors from all corners. Immediately, she heard the “Shut up, you b*tch!” from the grumpy old man living downstairs, and then the “Goddammit, you made me spill my coffee!” from the fat middle-aged woman who lived across.

Bree just bit her lip as she saw the dents on her most expensive books.

“What the hell happened here?” Mason’s head popped out from behind her door. “And why the hell do you look like that?”

“Like what?!”

“Like you just smelt somebody else’s fart?”

Several strands of her hair had slipped through her ponytail, her soft curls sticking on her forehead as she wiped the sweat away from her face. She looked miserable. And quite frankly, she does feel miserable. “Do you want me to rearrange your ribs?”

“No, I would rather you don’t touch me.”

Bree just grunted and rolled her eyes. “Hey, by the way. Do you have money? I need to buy a new box and some tape.”

“After you threatened to rearrange my ribs?”

She blew on the few strands of hair that had fallen over her face and glared. “Are you gonna give me money or not?”

“Are you a gangster, or what?”

“C’mon, it’s not like I’m not gonna pay you.”

“That’s exactly what it’s like.” He reached inside his pocket and produced what looked to be eight dollars. “Get me some food, too. I’m hungry.”

“You ate all the sausage and gave me the crappy ones. How come you’re still hungry?”

“Do you want the money or not?”

De Sales Hill, Pennsylvania was a small town with an even smaller population. Everyone here knows everyone, and even if you tried, no secret could be kept. But unlike most misconceptions, no, this town does not sit on a hill, and nor is it owned by a Frenchman named De Sales. No one here really knows who named it that or even why. But a few guesses were made and most of them just arrive at the same myth involving a wish-granting well and some magical saint.

Bree just looked down at the paper bag in her hands as she sucked on an icicle. Maybe that was the perfect time for a magical well to suddenly appear in front of her. If it can’t grant her wish, she could at least push her brother into it.

“Hey.”

She stopped dead in her tracks when a bearded man with patched clothing appeared from behind a bush. She looked at him calculatingly. He could be a crazy guy. Since she’s wearing flip-flops, running away would be out of her options. Maybe she could try bribing him with a popsicle?

“I don’t want your popsicle,” the man said and scratched his graying beard.

Bree just looked at him like he’d offered to lick the floor. “You can read minds?”

“No, dimwit. You were looking at your popsicle as if parting with it would hurt.”

In her defense, it could.

“Do you wanna make a wish? It’ll only be a few cents.” The man walked back towards the bush where he had just sprung out of and parted it for her. Behind it was a fountain. A fountain she never knew existed before. Granted she didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings but she would’ve at least noticed this one.

Sitting in the middle was a marble statue of a mermaid pouring endless water out of a vase. Around her tail were huge shells, filled nearly to the brim with coins that neither Bree nor the man recognizes. She bit on her popsicle and started searching her pockets for loose change.

“Do I just make a wish?”

“Yes. Make a wish and aim it inside the clam’s mouth. If you land one inside, your wish is gonna come true.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then, your eyes are clearly useless.”

Bree just stared at the old man. She was used to getting these kinds of retorts from her brother but it would still come out as quite a shock to her if she got it from a man who looked like he hasn’t bathed in a year.

Still, she brushed him off and made a wish. “Would it count if I had a lot of wishes?”

“No. Pick one.”

“But—”

“Just one.”

She stared at him again, trying to fight off the urge to glare. “Fine.” She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything.

Maybe getting rich could be a good wish. Or having the love of your life come knocking at your door? Or changing your dull life altogether? Or maybe finishing the book?

“FASTER!”

Startled, she opened her eyes and threw the coin, aiming for the seashell at the foot of the statue. She missed by a mile and the old man scoffed.

“Are you cross-eyed, or what?”

“Are you f*cking kidding me?”

“Well, you aren’t laughing so I guess I’m not. Aim at the seashell.”

“I’m trying! Geez.” She grabbed another coin and tossed it. Still nothing. “Did you jinx this or something?”

“Of course not! It’s not my fault you’re incompetent.”

Bree just huffed and grabbed her last coin. “Ugh, this better be worth it.”