Chapter 6: Falling 

She was doing it again. I’m been allowed out of my room to let her “get settled” as Mom had put it, but at the rate things were going, Meenah wasn’t going to be settled anytime soon. There were certain things that had to happen first.

For example, she had to come inside. I sighed, barely resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands in frustration. Complete with two suitcases, Meenah was standing on my front porch, staring up at the sky.

“Any time now,” I muttered under my breath. I thought that I’d been too quiet to hear, but she looked at me like she had.

“What was that?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“Are you planning on coming inside sometime this week?” I demanded.

“Probably not,” she sighed.

I wanted to pull out my hair in frustration. “You have got to be kidding,” I muttered.

She looked at me apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’m making this so hard for you. Trust me, I’m doing everything that I can to make this easier.”

I really wasn’t in the mood for cryptic conversations. “Just come inside,” I muttered.

“Certainly!” she said joyfully, picking up her suitcases and stepping through the front door.

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Why couldn’t you have done that two minutes ago.”

She shrugged. “So, um, where can I put these?” she asked, nodding towards one of the suitcases.

I sighed. “You’re staying in my room, you should know where that is.” Seeing as how she’d broken in there one multiple occasions. And not only was she unwelcome, but she was just plain annoying sometimes.

“Right!” She was excited again. What was with this girl? Was she so oblivious to the obvious bitterness in my voice? Was I just not as obvious as I thought? Maybe she just didn’t want to let me see how badly my words were getting to her. I liked that idea.

Mom’s other instruction to me was to “cook something real for dinner. And nothing too weird” I’d wanted to tell her that Cup-of-Noodles was real, but I didn’t think that that would help with the getting un-grounded cause. So, while Meenah was getting unpacked, I looked through the refrigerator to see if there were any leftovers I could transform into a normal dinner. Luck was on my side; there was a Tupperware full of noodles, so I decided that spaghetti was normal enough for Meenah.

Garlic bread would be a nice touch, I decided. Mom loved garlic bread, which would definitely help with the getting ungrounded cause. I ran out to the pantry and grabbed a loaf of French bread, which I sliced as the butter melted in the microwave.

“What’s up?”

I jumped, nearly slicing my hand off. “Good God, Meenah, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” she said. “You need any help? I’m all unpacked.”

“Uh, I think I got this covered.” I reached into the refrigerator for the garlic, mixing a teaspoon-full into the melted butter I‘d just pulled from the microwave. “Uh, if you really want to help, there’s forks over in that drawer, you can set the table.”

She stood completely still, giving no sign that she’d even heard me, frozen in the same position she’d been in.

“Meenah? Meenah, are you all right?”

“What…is that?” She pointed stiffly at the open jar of garlic.

I shrugged. “Garlic. You don’t like garlic?”

She shook her head. “I’m going upstairs.”

I tried to shrug it off. After all, I‘d seen her do strange things, and that was, by far, not the weirdest..

“What was that?” I asked as I cautiously sat down on the camp bed. It squeaked in protest.

She was sitting on the top of the desk, staring out the window. I sighed. Was it really that hard to sit in a chair, or on the floor, or on her bed? She sighed, almost like a reply, and pressed the side of her face to the window glass.

“I’m allergic to garlic.” she said simply. I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. (Things were going much better for Tina now. Her vampire mother-in-law hadn’t reacted as badly to Tina’s decision as she’d thought.)

After a few minutes, I glanced at Meenah again. She was still sitting on my desk, the same lost, sad expression on her face. After a second, she saw me looking at her and smiles a little, the side of her face still pressed against the window.

“Are you okay?” I asked. She looked so strange, forgotten.

“Homesick.” She went back to staring out the window.

“You can open that, if you want.”

She gave a start, like she’d forgotten that I was there, then smiled and tried to slide the window open.

“It locks automatically,” I said. “You have to twist that--” I pointed to the latch, “--and then…”

She tried it and slid it open. “Thanks,” she muttered, leaning a little out the window.

“Don’t fall,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure how much trouble I’d get in if I killed an exchange student, but I figured that it would probably be a lot.

“I’ll be careful not to kill myself,” she muttered. She sighed again, then was quiet for a minute, looking out the window but seeing nothing, lost in memories of home.

She wasn’t so strange, I was realizing. She was just a normal girl in a very strange world, but still a normal human.

“It’s a different place, you know,” said Meenah quietly. “Where I’m from.”

I looked up. She’d always avoided talking about her home before. “Do you miss it?” I asked.

Still lost in her thoughts, she replied, “All the time. I want to go back so badly, and I know that I never can.”

I frowned. “Aren’t you going back at the end of the year?”

She looked up suddenly, like she’d forgotten that I was there. “Well, you know,” she said hurriedly, tearing her eyes away from the view outside. ’It changes so much every year. Even if I went back now, it wouldn’t be the same.”

I got up and crossed to the desk. “So, do you regret this trip?” It was interesting, to finally be able to understand her, to get a look into her head.

“Well, I don’t know,” she said. “It’s definitely been a new experience.” She leaned back as I approached. “You know, go somewhere new, make new friends, throw eggplants off on the New Gym--”

And then she fell out of the window.

“Meenah?” I screamed, sticking my head out the window. She was sprawled in a heap, looking two stories up at me with a look of horror on her face.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

“Don’t move!” I yelled, running for the stairs. I didn’t know a lot about treating injuries, but I was pretty sure that the person wasn’t supposed to move. I sprinted outside, thinking that I should probably call an ambulance too.

She hadn’t moved, except that she’d turned her head to look at me.

“Calm down, Lizzie. I’m fine.”

I gaped at her. “You just fell out of a second-story window. You are not fine! I’m going to call 911.”

She hissed under her breath. “Lizzie,” she said, “I’m perfectly fine. Don’t call 911.” Was I crazy, or was she pleading with me?

She climbed to her feet while I stared in shock. “You really are okay, aren’t you?” I whispered. She was steady on her feet, looking a little annoyed but certainly not like someone who had just fallen backwards out of a window. Why was it that every time that I convinced myself she was human, she did something impossible and strange and slightly creepy? “Well, you’re very lucky. We should probably get you to the hospital anyway, you might have cracked a bone or something--”

“I’m not going to any hospital.” she said sharply. I recoiled from the venom in her voice. “Now, let’s go inside before people start staring.”

She stormed inside and sat at the kitchen table. “Idiot,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair. “Stupid, idiotic, moronic, stupid, stupi--”

“What?” I asked, sitting across from her. She sighed.

“Not you,” she snapped, twisting her hair around her fingers. If I’d tried to do that, I would get a terrible snarl in my hair. She growled something under her breath, closing her eyes, dropping her hair.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Don’t…don’t talk to me just yet.” She took a deep breath, and I couldn’t help but notice her strange, fang-like teeth. They seemed much more noticeable than usual.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” I must have just imagined her teeth. They looked almost normal now.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked again.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I’m not hurt. I’m just an idiot.”

She wasn’t hurt? I knew that she wasn’t seriously hurt, but the luckiest person alive couldn’t have possibly survived a fall like that totally unharmed. They’d be bruised up, at least. They should have broken some bones or died or something. She wasn’t hurt? That didn’t make any sense.

“Damn, “ I muttered to myself. “Brian was right.”

“About what?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing,” I said hurriedly.

She wrinkled her nose. “Your garlic bread is about done, I’d bet.”

“Right.” Her words brought me back to reality, a reality where odd and strangely fortunate girls who were allergic to garlic were just humans, where my life was normal and boring, and where I was grounded because I’d let my imagination run amok.

Meenah ran upstairs while I turned off the oven and checked the time. Mom would hopefully be home before the bread got too cold, so all I’d have to do was throw everything on a plate and call it good enough. I left the bread on the counter and went up to my room.

“Are you sure that that’s the best idea?” Meenah was sitting on my desk again, the window wide open, her face buried in a book.

“I won’t fall.” she said, turning the page.

“That’s what you said last time,” I accused.

“No, I didn’t,” she retorted, not looking up. “Last time I said that I wouldn’t get myself killed. And I didn’t.”

Why was everyone better at arguing than me. Brian, Mom, and now her?

She laughed suddenly having turned her attention back to the book. From downstairs, I heard Mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meenah laughed again.

“You know,” she muttered, closing her book. “I think I’ll go out for dinner tonight. I absolutely cannot stand garlic.”

“Right,” I said, turning towards the door.

“Oh, and one more thing.” I turned around. She handed me the book she’d been reading. It was on of the ones Brain had loaned me, The Ultimate Guide to Slaying Vampires.

“Brian was right,” she said. “But I’m not Canadian.”

I stood there, stunned, as she gracefully whirled around and leapt lightly out the window.