Page 5 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

I spoke through her hand that pressed against my lips. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!!”

“I fixed things for you, okay? Relax! Your life would be so much easier if you stopped worrying so much. TRUST ME.”

I relented. After all, what choice did I have? Whatever Jo Beth had done it was too late to take back now. Speaking of late, Jo Beth took forever to shower, so when I finally made it through the doors of West Diamond Middle School, first hour had already begun. But nothing seemed any different. Same groups of people ignoring me, same burnt out teachers spurting out their lesson plans, same sun shining up over the mountains and through the large picture windows, making it all the more difficult to sit inside rather than enjoy the day.

Yet at lunch time I was startled when Eileen set her tray down across from mine. “I have to talk to you,” she said, and I noticed she was pale underneath the cafeteria’s fluorescent light. I also noticed her perfectly painted magenta fingernails; she must have learned all about hair and makeup from her new set of friends. Speaking of which, why wasn’t Eileen sitting with that pack of Abercrombie-clad Emmas?

Jo Beth’s words from that morning rang in my head: Don’t be friends with Eileen. I made fists, hiding my own nails, which were ragged from being chewed. And I kept my voice stiff, like an unpromising handshake. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to come over today after school?”

I had to pause for a moment and reign myself in. “No.”

Eileen’s face fell. “Please, Skylar? I sort of need you to.”

“Why?”

She ran her fork through her mashed potatoes, keeping her eyes on the goopy white tracks. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s just say I heard from my grandma last night.”

“But your grandmother is dead.”

Eileen looked up. She had dark circles underneath her bloodshot eyes and she spoke in a vicious whisper. “Yeah… but I was woken by this bright light shining through my curtains, and when I looked outside, there was this figure.”

“Your grandmother?”

“No.” She shrugged. “Maybe. It was dark and I couldn’t see much, but it was the creepiest face I’d ever seen, all grey and dead looking, like she was floating in the air.”

I breathed steadily, trying to calm my racing heart. “Like, where that tree is?”

“Maybe, but there was this deep, scary voice, and she told me…” Eileen shook her head. “Never mind. Nobody is going to believe me, and if I tell anyone, I’ll go to hell.”

Eileen has never been the brightest bulb. She’d believed Noah Simmons when he’d told her that the school cafeteria imprisoned child slaves to make the popcorn chicken tenders for our lunches, because only tiny fingers could bread pieces so small. So whatever prank Jo Beth had pulled, it was plausible that Eileen would buy it, hook, line, and sinker. I looked at her face, all pinched with fear. I imagined Jo Beth outside her window, scaring her, but I could muster no sympathy for Eileen, only admiration for my brave, hilarious sister.

“Excuse me, but I’d really rather eat alone.” I picked up my tray and moved down three spaces. Eileen twisted her mouth like she was about to say something, but I turned away.

I ate lunch by myself, with nobody to talk to, and I pulled out a copy of Jane Eyre for company. Yet as I read, I could hear Jo Beth’s voice as clearly as if she sat across from me. I just want you to be in control, Skylar. Never give away your power. I resolved that I wouldn’t give my power away, unless, of course, it was to my sister. She was the best company I could keep, and if I couldn’t be with her, I’d keep company with my favorite authors instead, like Mary Shelly, Jane Austen, or most especially, the Brontë sisters. I imagined Jo Beth and me to be like them, for when Charlotte, Emily, and Anne first wrote their respective novels (each under a different male pseudonym) the literary community was convinced it was all the work of a singular talent. The Brontë sisters were competitive for sure, but their isolation and dependence upon each other was what made them capable of inventing worlds full of gothic romance, hauntings, and devastating love. They were complete individuals, seemingly sharing the same soul.

Just like Jo Beth and me.