After scanning the letter, Anne asked, 'How are your teachers?'
'Fine.'
'That's nice.'
As usual, their conversation was more of a mandatory social gesture than a method of communication. Anne and Jessica had learned long before that they had nothing in common and had little chance of ever engaging in a truly two-sided talk about anything. Occasionally one actually paid attention to what the other was saying, but such circumstances usually led to arguments.
Another moment of silence ensued.
'I'm going to my room,' Jessica announced finally. Leaving her backpack on the couch, she went upstairs and into the dimly lit cavern she had created for herself.
The windows were covered by heavy black curtains, and the shades were down. A small beam of light squeezed underneath the curtains, but that was all.
The bed, which was little more than a mattress on wheels, had been pushed into a corner. The sheets and comforter were black, as were all but one of the pillows. The exception was deep violet and made of fake suede. Anne had bought the pillow for Jessica several years ago, when she had still been attempting to influence the girl's tastes. Besides the pillow and Jessica's magenta Lava lamp, there was little else in the room that wasn't black.
A laptop computer and printer stood out brightly against their dark surroundings. They sat atop a black wooden desk, which they shared with a strewn assortment of floppy disks. The computer was one of the few things Jessica cherished. Here, in the shadowed niche she had created for herself, she churned out the novels that had been her escape from the world since she moved to Ramsa.
The twenty-nine manuscripts that she had written in the past five years, the brown envelopes that held her contracts for two of them, and a few copies of the published book
It had been only two years earlier that she had first begun the search for a publisher; she could hardly believe how quickly things had gone since. Her first book,
Jessica flopped down onto her bed and looked up at the ceiling. Sometimes ideas for her books would strike as she lay like this, staring into oblivion, but usually they came from her dreams.
Even while she was writing, it was as if she was in a dream — one which her waking mind did not understand. She never quite knew what was happening in any of the numerous novels that she was working on at any given time. But she had learned not to read the manuscripts until they were finished. The only time she had broken that pattern, the flow of words had abruptly stopped. That had been the only story she disliked. The scenes written after she had read it seemed forced and unnatural. Trying to think them up had been a chore.
She didn't realize that she had drifted into sleep until she was awakened by Anne's knock on her door.
'Jessica?'
'What?' she asked tiredly.
'It's dinnertime,' Anne announced. 'Are you going to come down? '
Jessica closed her eyes for a moment more and then got up and turned on her computer.
'I'm not hungry,' she called to Anne. 'Go ahead and eat without me.'
'Jessica—'
'I'll eat later, Anne,' she snapped. Normally she would have at least joined Anne for dinner, just to maintain the illusion of a familial relationship. But when she was in the mood to write, that pull was stronger than her desire to get along with her adopted mother.
CHAPTER 4
WITHIN FIVE MINUTES Jessica was writing quickly, lost in the bubble of her imagination. The entire night passed as she typed. It was sunrise when the flow of words halted.
Exhausted, Jessica turned off the computer, stood to stretch, and fell into bed and a sleep filled with nightmares.
Jessica woke, gasping for breath.
That same dream had frequented her sleep for years, but she had yet to become used to it. The pain was always so vivid.
She turned on the Lava lamp and let the glow of magenta light calm her. The clock read 6:13 A.M. Though it was less than an hour after she had fallen asleep, she was no longer tired. As always, that dream had forced fatigue far away.
After showering and dressing quickly, she paused to study herself in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. Jessica well knew she had a body and face to die for. At five feet, five inches tall, she was slender but not bony and had well-toned muscles despite the fact that she rarely worked out. Her skin was naturally fair and had been kept that way by her aversion to sunlight. Unlike those of many girls her age, Jessica's complexion was flawless and always had been. Her long jet-black hair tumbled around a face with high cheekbones, full lips, and expressive green eyes.
Yet despite her attractive appearance, Jessica had never so much as had a date. Occasionally that fact bothered her, though she usually had plainer insults to deal with than oblique dismissals from the boys in her grade.
Annoyed, she finally turned away from her reflection. Again she'd been unable to find the flaw that made people hesitate when they saw her on the street or in the hall.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Anne was finishing a batch of pancakes.
'Morning, Jessica,' Anne said as she slid two of the pancakes onto a plate. 'Sit.'
Jessica sat. She was in no hurry this morning, and the pancakes smelled delicious. She realized that she had eaten very little the day before. 'Smells good,' she offered. Anne smiled. 'Thank you. I do try.' By the time she left for school, Jessica was in a good mood. She even had the heart to smile at Mrs. Katherine when she saw her in front of the building, and the teacher returned her gesture with a nod. Then Caryn walked by, and Jessica's cheer vanished.
CHAPTER 5
AS SHE ENTERED THE BUILDING, Jessica came upon a group of girls who had gathered near the main office.
'Nice body,' she heard one of them whisper, referring to someone in the office.
