The Host_ A Novel - Stephenie Meyer [113]
“We don’t have one,” I told him. “As long as we have a healthy host, we can live forever.”
A low murmur-angry? frightened? disgusted? I couldn’t tell-swirled around the edges of the cave. I saw that my answer had been unwise; I understood what these words would mean to them.
“Beautiful.” The low, furious word came from Sharon’s direction, but she hadn’t turned.
Jamie squeezed my hand, seeing again in my eyes the desire to bolt. This time I gently pulled my hand free.
“I’m not hungry anymore,” I whispered, though my bread sat barely touched on the counter beside me. I hopped down and, hugging the wall, made my escape.
Jamie followed right behind me. He caught up to me in the big garden plaza and handed me the remains of my bread.
“It was real interesting, honest,” he told me. “I don’t think anyone’s too upset.”
“Jeb put Doc up to this, didn’t he?”
“You tell good stories. Once everyone knows that, they’ll want to hear them. Just like me and Jeb.”
“What if I don’t want to tell them?”
Jamie frowned. “Well, I guess then… you shouldn’t. But it seems like you don’t mind telling me stories.”
“That’s different. You like me.” I could have said, You don’t want to kill me, but the implications would have upset him.
“Once people get to know you, they’ll all like you. Ian and Doc do.”
“Ian and Doc do not like me, Jamie. They’re just morbidly curious.”
“Do so.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. We were to our room by now. I shoved the screen aside and threw myself onto the mattress. Jamie sat down less forcefully beside me and looped his arms around his knees.
“Don’t be mad,” he pleaded. “Jeb means well.”
I groaned again.
“It won’t be so bad.”
“Doc’s going to do this every time I go in the kitchen, isn’t he?”
Jamie nodded sheepishly. “Or Ian. Or Jeb.”
“Or you.”
“We all want to know.”
I sighed and rolled onto my stomach. “Does Jeb have to get his way every single time?”
Jamie thought for a moment, then nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”
I took a big bite of bread. When I was done chewing, I said, “I think I’ll eat in here from now on.”
“Ian’s going to ask you questions tomorrow when you’re weeding the spinach. Jeb’s not making him-he wants to.”
“Well, that’s wonderful.”
“You’re pretty good with sarcasm. I thought the parasites-I mean the souls-didn’t like negative humor. Just the happy stuff.”
“They’d learn pretty quick in here, kid.”
Jamie laughed and then took my hand. “You don’t hate it here, do you? You’re not miserable, are you?”
His big chocolate-colored eyes were troubled.
I pressed his hand to my face. “I’m fine,” I told him, and at that moment, it was entirely the truth.
The Host
CHAPTER 26
Returned
Without ever actually agreeing to do it, I became the teacher Jeb wanted.
My “class” was informal. I answered questions every night after dinner. I found that as long as I was willing to do this, Ian and Doc and Jeb would leave me alone during the day so that I could concentrate on my chores. We always convened in the kitchen; I liked to help with the baking while I spoke. It gave me an excuse to pause before answering a difficult question, and somewhere to look when I didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes. In my head, it seemed fitting; my words were sometimes upsetting, but my actions were always for their good.
I didn’t want to admit that Jamie was right. Obviously, people didn’t like me. They couldn’t; I wasn’t one of them. Jamie liked me, but that was just some strange chemical reaction that was far from rational. Jeb liked me, but Jeb was crazy. The rest of them didn’t have either excuse.
No, they didn’t like me. But things changed when I started talking.
The first time I noticed it was the morning after I answered Doc’s questions at dinner; I was in the black bathing room, washing clothes with Trudy, Lily, and Jamie.
“Could you hand me the soap, please, Wanda?” Trudy asked from my left.
An electric current ran through my body at the sound of my name spoken by a female voice. Numbly, I passed her the soap and then rinsed the sting off my hand.
“Thank you,” she added.
“You’re welcome,” I murmured. My