9. Blink or Die
Feeling restless for some nameless reason, Gwen reluctantly opened her eyes into tiny slits, letting them adjust to the dimness of the unlit van. It was just late enough that she was annoyed that she wasn't asleep yet.
When she could see enough to make out fuzzy details, her skin crawled. Ben, on the opposite bunk, was staring wide-eyed right at her, with this weird, serious expression. It was like something out of a psycho stalker movie or something.
"What are you looking at me for?" she hissed with quiet fury, not wanting to wake Grampa. Jeez, how long had he been doing that? Had he done it other nights too and she just hadn't noticed until now? No, that was an overreaction, to assume it was a habit was too low an assumption to apply even to Ben.
"I'm not looking at you," he whispered back with equal anger, immediately shifting his eyes elsewhere. But she wasn't fooled. He had been looking at her. "I can't sleep."
"Well, that's no reason to stare at me like that. Now I can't sleep and it's your fault." It wasn't her most logical argument, but luckily Ben wasn't the kind of guy to notice logic or its absence in arguments in the first place. And the extent of her creeped outness was interfering with her arguing ability.
"Fine, whatever." He rolled over to face the wall of the vehicle, posture radiating sulkiness.
Satisfied, she closed her eyes, pulled her blanket over her head, and tried to get to sleep for the second time tonight. Only she could still feel the prickle on her skin, that little animal instinct akin to the senses prey used to know when predators were nearby. Never before had Ben's very presence in the van seemed so intrusive, such a violation of whatever she felt like life was supposed to be. Why had she agreed to go on this stupid vacation for a second summer anyway? Ben annoyed her almost constantly, and Grampa practically enabled her cousin's immaturity with his lax discipline. Her parents would've given Ben a real upbringing. Made him comb his hair, and brush his teeth twice a day, and definitely put a stop to all the stupid pranks. The line of thought gave her an odd twinge. She missed her parents and hated them at the same time, and couldn't figure out why. It was weird.
Unable to stand it anymore, she snapped her eyes open and tossed the blank down to her shoulders, hitting Ben with a ferocious glare. But all that was in vain, he was still staring at the wall. Or maybe asleep by now, for all she knew. No. No, he wasn't asleep, because he'd heard her moving and was rolling over now to look at her again. She hastily closed her eyes. He hadn't caught her. There was no way he could know she'd been glaring at him.
Somehow, he knew anyway. "Nerdgirl, you're a big fat hypocrite."
"I don't know what you're talking about. That's a nice long word for you though, Benny. Did you look that one up in the dictionary?" she taunted to try and regain the upper hand.
"Naw, I'm just smart like that."
She snorted in amused scorn.
"You're a hypocrite and a liar. Tampon on fire." It was probably just her imagination, the perverted little smirk on his lips. Probably. It had to be, because there was no way he could've known she'd gotten her first period this month, Grampa had been super discreet! She wanted to hit him.
"Unlike some people, I don't lie, Ben Tennyson," she huffed self-righteously, voice almost going above a whisper in her indignation.
It was Ben's turn to snort now. "Shyeah, right. So you told your parents everything that happened on our first summer trip with Grampa?"
Why did the stare of his eyes remind her of that Gremlins movie now? The scene with the Christmas tree, with eyes just peeking out like ornaments. Perfectly disguised and predatory. It was worse, somehow, that she could only see a little bit of his face, the rest covered by the blanket. "I creatively worded my answers to tell them everything except the weird stuff, without actually lying to them directly about anything," she said with intense care and precision, her tone blank as fresh snow.
"Pff, you crack me up. Denial, baby." The way he used the word 'baby' made her want to go over there and hit him. The way he twisted it, it was almost like a lewd insult. "Everyone lies. Some people say they don't and pretend like they're better than everyone else, but they lie too."
"Well, we both have to admit I'm definitely better than you in every possible way."
"You just keep tellin' yourself that."
She wanted to hit him. She wanted to hit him so bad. Or at least yell at him properly. But nooooo, they just had to start a verbal sparring match in the middle of the night instead of at a more reasonable hour. She blamed herself for talking to him in the first place. She knew better. Talking to Ben was nothing but trouble. He never understood anything.
Conversation ran out, but they didn't sleep. They just settled in like soldiers in their respective defensive bunkers, and stared at each other as though they were looking across a war zone. Which, in a metaphorical kind of way, they were. The main difference was that they hadn't actually tried to kill each other yet. Yet.
It turned into a formalized, if unstated, staring contest somewhere along the way. She didn't want to try and sleep with him looking at her, and he was too competitive to try to go to sleep before she gave up first. It could've been a funny, playful kind of thing, but throughout it, as her eyes watered and burned and ached, all she could think of was how annoying he was and how much she wanted him gone.
And it was definitely a violation of her identity, that they had to have the same eyes. Green eyes were supposed to be special. But nooo, he had to have them too. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. And it was doubly not fair that she blinked first, leaving Ben to snicker in self-assured victory and roll over, sinking into the relaxed slumber of the innocent (rather inappropriately, in Gwen's opinion). Just one more thing to feed the little jerk's ravenous ego, like he needed it.
