Dennis Raveley - chapter 7

'This, my jealous enemy, is Dennis, Dennis Raveley.' Raymond replies before Dennis can open his mouth to comment that a fourteen year old girl can not legally drive an automobile.
'Raveley? What kind of a name is that? I've never heard of it.' The Girl crosses her arms, skeptical.
'Good question!' Raymond brings a hand up to his chin, 'I've never thought about that.'
'Of course you've never thought about that. I have relatively low expectations for inept, stupid morons such as you, Raymond.' The Girl replies.
'Excuse me, an IQ of 115 is considered near genius. I would respect that number if I were you, and I do shudder at the mere thought of taking your place.' Raymond counters, with a devilish grin on his face. Clearly, he believes age is at his advantage in this sparring.
'And divide that number by two is the amount of IQ you actually use,' says the Girl, 'on the bright side, you're just at borderline deficiency, at least you're not a total retard by professional standard.'
'Well, I'll have you know that I can -' Raymond is unable to finish his thought, or rather, the Girl does not let him finish it, she picks up the bazooka leaning against Addy wheelchair, strides up to Raymond and Dennis in an astonishingly quick manner, and drops the bazooka onto Raymond's foot, which do happen to be unprotected, in sandals.
'Yeooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!' Raymond screeches, like a cat who got bitten on the tail by a dog. He has thought, of all things, that the last thing the Girl would do is come over and drop the bazooka on his foot. He has guessed wrong that age is at his advantage in this sparring. Dennis winces, equally caught by surprise, and would hate to be in Raymond's shoes at that moment, literally.
Raymond, with his face flushed as a ripe tomato, stumbles off, hopping on one foot back into the mansion.
'So, I've found out your name through that neanderthal and I've wasted enough time on the doormat, I'm Karla Simone by the way, French descent. Karla shakes Dennis' hand. 'By the way, what kind of surname is Raveley? I've never heard of it, and I don't think it connects to any name off the bat either.'
'Well, my grandparents were called Raven and Connelley, and they refused to settle in term of my dad's name by a coin toss or the gender, so they created a portmanteau surname, and it became Raveley.'
'Ah, a portmanteau, and what were the ancestries of your grandparents?'
'I don't know.'
'What do you think?'
'I admit, I don't put too much thought into that.'
'Hum, disappointing, I'd have thought someone who look as striking as you do would actually be as intelligent. Your hair is dark brown, and your eyes, wow, I don't think I've seen eyes quite as gray as yours, I 'd say you're part Irish, it matches the skin and the looks too.' Karla keeps his gaze locked on Dennis during this assessment, who returns the gaze unperturbed.
'Is this a staring contest?' Karla declares, not bothered by Dennis' stare, she has the intellect to match Dennis' dark grayish eyes. Dennis decides to withdraw from the challenge, he shifts gaze.
'Looks like I won. Listen, since you're at the house of the Wyatt family, especially under the same roof as my dear friend Addy, I do hope you have good reason to be here.'
'Good reason? I don't quite know why I'm here myself.' Dennis is beginning to find the inquisitive questions a bit too invasive.
'Another great disappointment, you seem lacking somewhat, are you aware of that?' 
'Am I? Am I really? You know something, I don't quite understand you either, I thought underage people aren't supposed to be driving a car.'
'Oh? Are you really so dull? I am perfectly trained well to drive, ask the driver. Driver!' Karla shouts.
The Driver, the very same who has driven Dennis here, steps out of the car.
'Am I a capable driver?' Karla says to the Driver.
The Driver nods, gets back in, and drives the car away towards the garages.
'There you go, and don't say anything about what the law says, I know perfectly well and I know to whom it applies to. Oh, and what's that you're holding?' Karla reaches over and grabs a thick volume Dennis does not realize he is holding, 'ah, War and Peace is it? How many times have you read it?'
'Once.' Dennis says dryly.
Karla looks at him in a way that communicates serious disappointment, suddenly she raises the book with both hands, and whacks Dennis on the head, who falls down upon impact.
'I've read it three times.' Karla says, and walks off into the mansion, pushing Addy's wheelchair along.
Dennis is very not ready to get back up from the pavement, he lies there, and realizes that Karla took the book too. 'What's the point of reading it three times?' He says to himself mournfully, rubbing his head.