Children's Fiction
I've never talked to Lacey because, clearly, it would be a waste of breath. I don't even know why people like her were born. What is she good for? Proof that evolution can go backward? Sure, she's pretty, but that's about it. Dolls are pretty too, and I got bored with them years ago. Meh. I hardly ever played with them even when I was little. Why would I bother with a brainless doll now?
Sadly these things can be forced on us.
"I like being alone," I say. "Honestly. Groups just aren't my thing. It's actually fun not having friends."
I don't know why I said that. It was supposed to be funny, but it sounds pathetic. Van's face is more transparent even than mine. He doesn't embarrass easily but he definitely looks annoyed.
"I don't think sarcasm suits you," he says stiffly.
I'm tired of talking about this. I stand up and stretch. "Have you ever seen Renegade?" I ask.
"Who's Renegade?" says Van.
"A horse," I say. "Come on."
