Those Things Beautiful.

“I’m not sure why you burned so bad,” Mom said. “Maybe you should take a break from going outside for a little while.”

Maybe that might have been a good idea, considering I was looking at practically third-degree burns. If I had to guess, I’d say they would keep on my skin for the rest of the summer, damage from them never leaving.

To tell you the truth, I actually felt sick after being out in the sun so long. Perhaps to the average human being, two hours might not seem so long. In Michigan, two hours in the sun didn’t cause much harm, but the difference in the sun’s quantity was significantly greater in southern California.

It was nearly a week before I went outside again. Maybe Mom was right, maybe I was turning into a vampire. I didn’t mind, because if being a vampire meant that I wouldn’t have to deal with that excruciating pain that the sunburn caused my body, then I was sure that I could deal with being one. Besides, hanging around in an air-conditioned house was rather appealing to me, since it was so hot everywhere else.

I took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of air-conditioned air. It smells different than regular air, like the air you breathe outside. It’s almost sweet, but it’s clean, and you can taste the scent on your tongue.

The television set was on, but I wasn’t really watching it. There wasn’t anything playing that day, anyway; nothing much interested me in the televised media. Dana was outside with Mom, since it was a lazy Sunday afternoon and none of us were interested in doing anything really productive.

Dad walked into the kitchen, which was attached to the living room, and started making himself a sandwich. “You want me to make you anything?” he asked, squirting mustard onto his ham.

I really hated mustard.

“No, I’m good,” I said.

He nodded, not bothering to put the mustard back into the refrigerator before he took a big bite out of the sandwich. I scrunched up my nose, disgusted.

“Well, pumpkin,” he told me, calling me by one of those names he still uses on Dana, “what do you want to do tonight? Maybe we could go out and see a movie or something, because all this week I’ll be working late.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Is it okay if I just not do anything?”

“Well, you’ve been laying around here for a good week, now,” he countered. “I really don’t want to see you turning into a couch potato.”

It would seem that Dad met the same fate as Mom had; the thrill of being constantly outdoors had gotten to him, as well. It wouldn’t get to me, though, because I was quickly building up a resistance to doing anything that my parents wanted me to do. I would become a hermit if I had to, but I didn’t want to be outside; I was too afraid of burning again like I had.

When I didn’t reply, he sighed. “Fine, Hailey, you can sit around for today, but while your mother and I are gone tomorrow, I want you to go outside for a little bit. You don’t have to stay out there for more than an hour if you don’t want to, but just go out and explore the city a little bit. Maybe you could go to the beach, or go shopping. If you want, I’ll leave you some money and you could take your sister with you. Maybe catch a bit to eat, catch a movie.”

“You must really want me out of this house,” I muttered.

“I do,” he said solemnly. “Please, just don’t sit around all day. Promise me that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine, I’ll go out for a little bit. But I’m not taking Dana.”

“Hailey…”

I grunted. “Fine. I’ll take Dana. But don’t expect me to have any fun.”

Dad walked over to me and gave me a big kiss on the forehead. “That’s my girl.”

I could see it happening already: I was giving in. I was letting Dad get the better of me, convincing me to do what he wanted so that I wouldn’t do what I wanted. That was so like him.

I was so sick of California.