Author's note: This takes place after the Lunar Ellipse of season three, episode twelve. Everything is the same of it was was, just with my own character added.
This story belongs to me, the characters don't, only Melanie Pollastri and her family. The rest belongs to Jeff Davis and MTV.
The Ending To A Beginning:
Afterword
by Amelia Williams
Hello, old friend.
And here we are. You and me on the last page.
By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone so know that we lived well and we're very happy, and above all else, know that we will love you. Always.
Sometimes I do worry about you, though, I think, once we're gone you won't be coming back here for a while and you might be alone, which you should never be.
Don't be alone, Doctor.
And do one more thing for me: There's a little girl waiting in a garden. She's going to wait a long while, so she's going to need a lot of hope.
Go to her. Tell her a story.
Tell her that, if she's patient, the days are coming that she'll never forget. Tell her she'll go to sea and fight pirates, she'll fall in love with a man who will wait two thousand years to keep her safe, tell her she'll give hope to the greatest painter who ever lived, and save a whale in outer space.
Tell her this is the story of Amelia Pond, and this is how it ends.
-Back Story-
Reading Amelia's Afterword in the book, "Melody Malone," had brought tears to her eyes.
Of course she couldn't be any sadder than the Doctor, but she was quite sure that, after River brought him to the TARDIS, he cried his heart out.
Anyone would.
Amelia Pond and Rory Williams were beautiful companions.
It was a shame for their time to end so quickly.
But Clara was a twist and she's doing a swell job as the companion.
Still, no one could compare like the Ponds.
Farewell, Ponds.
Melanie Amelia Pollastri, obsesser of the internet, shows, bands, and music.
Her middle name was chosen for the reason of Amelia-Amy Williams-Pond of Doctor Who, former companion of the Doctor and aboard the TARDIS.
Her mother wanted to use Melody as her first name, but her father wanted to use Melanie, and they had clashed, her nickname being Mels, or Melody if you were to be into Doctor Who.
Melanie came from a line of obsesser's of Doctor Who, and Melanie wouldn't be the stop of it.
Her family wasn't insane with it like Melanie was, but they came a close second.
Melanie had light strawberry blonde hair, naturally straight, which would fall from her shoulders and to the middle of her back. If it was to be straightened, it would fall a little under her shoulder blades, and she didn't mind if it happened.
When Melanie was fourteen years old, her best friend, Caroline, knew a man who did illegal tattoos for a hundred dollars, which Melanie had. Around her ankle, she had a small rose done, hiding it from her mother since she was fourteen, now seventeen, and she planned on telling her about her getting the tattoo at eighteen where it would seem as if she had gotten it for a birthday present.
Her family wouldn't be described as 'Richest Family Of The World' because everyone knew she wasn't. Her earned the title for 'Richest Family In Broadcaster' which was the town that Melanie used to live in. Everything about her involved moving from one place to the next, town to town, expect she spent her moving times in England.
For the first time in her whole life, her family was moving to America, which, if you hadn't noticed, is nearly six thousand miles away from England. If it hadn't been a tragedy at that moment, then the kick in the ass was that she was living in a town called Beacon Hills in California.
Was Melanie nervous of moving again?
Hell, no. 'Melanie' and 'nervous' never belonged in the same sentence.
Was moving across the "pond" a worry?
Hell, yes. Her thoughts of never being able to drive a town over to see her friends or her friends driving a town over to see her was heartbreaking. Nevertheless, her telling her friends was basically all the whovians, who are basically the fans of Doctor Who, being forced to watch the Ponds leave again, or watching all the Doctors regenerate for twenty-four hours, no blinking.
If you don't speak geek, it basically means they spent twenty-four hours crying their guts out.
Who knew that her friends cared so much for her?
Or she cared so much for her friends?
Not Melanie, no.
Just to straighten it out, Melanie wasn't a bitch or a snob. She was more in the line of 'That-Rich-Girl-Who-Makes-Everyone-Feel-Useless.'
Hell, Melanie wasn't even that.
She barely showed off her money as she didn't shop twenty-four-seven, or wear a new outfit that was bought that day to school.
Melanie was like one of the poor kids.
And she loved her life as one of them.
And now she had to earn it all over again.
In a new school.
With new people.
Who might cast her as a snob or a bitch.
And she wasn't one of those.
She'd need to earn their trust.
And she had not a clue how to do it.
-Reality-
Wearing one of her favorite dresses, no matter if it was in style or out of style, it would be one of her favorite, and the fact she was wearing it the day she reached Beacon Hills was the part that made her want to throw away the dress, but she didn't.
The dress would be described as- sleeveless with the top being pure red, falling to a faded red at the bottom, and the design of it was beautiful. Some would say it's too 'dressy' but Melanie would say it's perfect. Along with her 'too dressy dress' was a pair of one inch black high heels, the straps lacing back and forth before stopping at her ankle. Her hair was bundled into a bun, a few strands falling out, but most of them being kept in as her side bangs blended in with her strands.
Hoisting a black suitcase over her shoulder, she felt her shoulder start to bruise as she had lifted three times her weight in the pass two hours, and that was nothing compared to what they had brought over. When she had dropped the bag in the kitchen, she hurried outside to pick up two bags of her own, about to head inside when she looked over and saw two boys, both cute in her eye, looking over at her.
Before she had a chance to wave, she noticed her older brother was talking to her.
"-And being apart from my friends means that I'll have to work for friends here, and that's a horrible thing to do." Malcolm explained to Melanie, her mostly blanking out as her attention was caught on the boys walking down the street.
"You have to work for friends. That's like having a bad hair day, isn't it? God, Malcolm, stop being twelve and get over it, alright? Just because you're nineteen, out of school, and having to find a college around here doesn't mean you can expect me to listen to you whine about your petty problems, got it?" Melanie had always talk to her brother like that.
She had talked to everyone like that who acted like raising a finger would be like lifting a house. They deserved the talk, and, after all, she was the only one would would actually work to make her place in the family. Being rich doesn't mean you don't have to work for yourself, and it's better to find it out sooner rather than later.
"Hey, richie. Not to remind you, but you have to work for friends, too." Malcolm watched as she hoisted another bag over her shoulder, still staring at the two boys who caught her attention.
"And the only difference between your situation and mine is that I don't mind working to have friends, unlike you who acts as if the world would shatter if you decided to hang out with someone who hasn't asked you to hang out with them. This is America, not England." Her accent had always fucked up the way she would talk, but she hadn't noticed when everyone in England had the same accent.
Now she's in America, and having an English accent isn't exactly how everyone speaks.
She was different, and she liked it.
"By the way, you could do so much better than them." Motioning to the boys, she left off a slight blush before turning, hurrying after her brother.
When she returned outside, the boys were now across the street, walking over, and it made her have butterflies start to fly around in her stomach.
Man, her being nervous was never an issue.
And she's been around loads of cute boys before.
Why were these two boys an issue?
"We haven't seen you around. Are you new here, hence the moving truck?" She had noticed the way he talked seemed to be flawless, as well as his face, and her eyes drifted to the other one who was equally as flawless as the first.
"Came from across the 'pond' which means that I came from England." Translating the English talk, she shifted her eyes from the moving truck back to the boys.
"Well, I never came in contact with someone from England. Sounds fancy." The other one had said, cracking a smile as she couldn't help, but to smile as well.
"My name is Scott McCall, and this is my fri-" Cutting his friend off, the other one made an adjustment to his choice of words.
"Best friend." He inserted, the other one, who she believed to be was Scott McCall, looking a tad annoyed with what he had done.
"And this is my best friend, Stiles Stilinski." Scott had finished, his best friend, Stiles, left with a smile on his face, showing his perfect teeth as they shined in her eyes.
"Pleasure to meet you, Scott McCall," Holding out her hand, she felt Scott take it, shaking it with a firm grip before letting go, looking towards Stiles. "And Stiles Stilinski."
Doing the same, she felt a spark go through her and Scott when they shook, the same being with Stiles, which left her with a happy feeling and a heartbeat going rapid.
"Are you attending Beacon Hills High School?" Stiles practically blurted out, almost cutting off his friend, Scott, who opened his mouth to talk, possibly the same question.
"On Monday I will be an official student of Beacon Hills High School, if that answer's your question." God, she had to sound fancy.
After all, English people were fancier than American people.
Well, in Melanie's eyes, so far, they were.
"Guess we'll see you at school on Monday-" Confused of what her name was, he waited for her to catch on to what he was doing and to say her name.
"Melanie. Melanie Pollastri." She spoke up, understanding that she had forgotten to tell both of them her name, which was an honest mistake.
"See you at school on Monday, Melanie." Scott told her, ending the conversation as they both made their way down the street.
What she didn't hear was Scott whisper to Stiles, "Her heartbeat was going crazy."
"That either means she was lying to us, or-" Before Stiles could finish, Scott had spoken up.
"Or she is nervous of our presences."
-Sunday Night-
Laying on her bed in a pair of Holster sweatpants with a navy blue shirt dangling over her sweatpants, she furiously typed to her best friend on Facebook.
"No kidding. Both boys were cute. I have never been nervous before, Caroline."
"Mels, just breath in and out. I promise it'll get better to be around them. You can either express your love to both of them, or keep it bottled up and never coming out."
"I think I like the second option better. The first one makes it sound as if I want to have sex with both of them."
"And do you?"
"A little. Is it bad?"
"Honey, it's beyond bad. There's no hope. I'm always here when you need to express your love."
"Caroline, stop trying to make me sound like a slut and a lesbian."
"Noted."
"How about we call each other when it's not midnight and five in the morning, alright?"
"Absolutely. You still have the same number, correct?"
"Wouldn't change it for the world."
"Honey, you practically own the world."
"You're right. Anyway, call me around eight at night on Monday, your time."
"It's in my agenda. Night."
"Night."
Shutting her laptop, she placed it on the table next to her along with her iPhone, iPod, helmet to her motorcycle, and keys to her motorcycle, house, her mother's car, her father's car, her two older brother's cars, her older sister's car, and her younger sister's car.
And her younger sister was sixteen, so having a car was allowed.
-Monday Morning-
"Why the hell is the sun up? Go back down." Melanie yawned, stretching as she dropped to the floor, standing up as she made her way to her bathroom.
Shutting and locking the door, she stripped from her clothes, slipping them into her laundry basket before turning on the shower to warm.
Stepping in the shower, she felt the water drip down her face, her neck, her shoulders, her sides, her legs, and it had gotten to her feet, collecting in the drain. Her mind changed the water to kisses, both from Scott and Stiles, and they were kissing her at the same time.
God, why was she such a slut?
Her shower quickened, her unable to deal with the images and hallucinations as she ended her shower at half an hour, which her showers would usually be an hour if she, for one- had time, and for two- didn't have sex dreams of Scott and Stiles.
Drying her hair and body, she settled on a light blue dress, two thin spaghetti straps which was covered by her black leather jacket. Her dress decided to stop at her knees, her wearing black ankle boots that had a one inch heal. Her hair draped over her black leather jacket and dress, her tips reaching her lower back as part of her hair was dangling around her neck. Sitting down at her table, she managed to do her make up, not smudging any of it, and she stood, thinking that she had good enough appearance for her. After all, she was heading to school on her motorcycle, and she thinks it would be better to not be fancy as it would probably be messed up.
Pulling her bag over her shoulder, she slipped her iPhone and iPod in her bag, picking up her keys to sling them around her pointer finger before putting the helmet in her right hand. On her way down the stairs, she found her black leather gloves from the table where she put them, slipping them over hands when she got to the door. Making her way to her motorcycle, she laced her legs across the seat, pulling dress between her legs as she didn't want to flash her underwear to the entire town of Beacon Hills.
She wasn't that kind of slut.
And she wasn't even a slut, God dammit.
Just another thanks to Caroline.
Fixing her bag as she didn't want it falling off, she pulled her helmet over her head, putting the keys into the ignition to hear her motorcycle, which she calls either her baby, roar to life.
She was ready for school.
-Later On Monday-
Pulling next to a dirt bike and two motorcycles, she could see through her tinted visor of her helmet, showing her half the school was looking her way.
Sighing, she pulled off her helmet, waving her hair around as if she was in a movie. Rubbing her black leather glove down her hair, she pulled them off, biting on the first one before using her right hand to take off the second one, using the same technique of pulling each of the fingers towards her a little to loosen them before taking it off. Standing from her motorcycle, she flattened her dress before holding the keys on her pointer finger, the helmet in her right hand, and her bag on her left shoulder.
Making her way through the crowd that was looking her way, she hoped it would die down by the time school ended.
Eyes were on her as she passed by everyone, reaching her locker to put in the combination, opening her locket, and stuffing her helmet inside before shutting it. Sighing, she turned only to see the face of Scott McCall, startling her.
"I was just going to say, 'Welcome to Beacon Hills,' but scarring you for the rest of your life was not on my agenda." Scott did his attempt of an apology, her excepting it.
"You didn't scar me. You just stopped my heart from beating. It should be pumping like a human heart in a day or so," Melanie laughed, watching as Scott's best friend, Stiles Stilinski, popped up behind him. "Now, Stiles' might scar me for the rest of my life."
"What are we talking about?" Stiles asked, wrapping his arm around his best friend as he heard his name from Melanie.
"Just giving me a heart attack, but I'm fine," Looking between the boys, she pushed back a strand of hair, sighing, "For now."
"We heard you have English first. Lucky for you, we do, too." Taking her hand, both, Stiles and Melanie, felt a spark run through their touch.
"It's nice to meet people before the first day of school. Every other time I moved, it's like, 'Find your classes yourself,' or 'Nobody wants to be friends with you until they find out you are rich.'" Melanie described her first days to them, re-shouldering her bag.
"Have you moved a lot?" Both of them seemed to not care about her being rich, and she liked that she had chosen the right people to befriend.
"It wasn't normal to stay somewhere for more than five months in England. Let's hope in America it's not the same thing." And she meant it.
No lying.
She found somewhere that she could be comfortable with.
Especially with boys.
"Melanie, this is my friend, Allison Argent." Melanie must not have paid attention because the next thing she knew, she was shaking hands with Allison Argent.
"Where are you from, and don't worry, I already heard you're new." Allison said, stopping her handshake with Melanie, who dropped her hand rather quickly.
"England." Melanie replied, once more, re-shouldering her bag.
"Melanie, you seem to have the same fashion taste as my friend, Lydia Martin." Allison took notice, promising to introduce her to Lydia Martin during lunch.
Friends.
This was rather quick for her.
-During Monday-
School was rather calm, collective, and quick.
Her classes flew by, everybody staring.
Her friends helped her from one class to another.
"Melanie," A voice breathed, the hearing of footsteps in the crowd catching her attention as she slowly looked behind her to see Scott hurrying towards her. "Melanie."
"What happened?" Melanie noticed that his heart was about to pound out of his chest, him heaving in a breath or two.
"What are you talking about?" Calming down his breathing and his heart, he attempted to stand upright.
"People have a tell when their happy, sad, angry, upset, and all those emotions. You have a tell for being worried, thus me asking, 'What happened?'" Melanie explained, understanding how to tell how a person is by the expression on their face and how their body reacted.
"Really? I have a tell," Getting into curiosity, he shook the thought from him as he went on to the situation. "It's not exactly, 'worry' but more like 'out of breath.' You wouldn't believe how exhausted you can be running up a dozen flights of stairs. Anyway, you've met almost all my friends, and I would like you to meet another one. You'd like him."
Scott turned back, her looking back as well to find a boy walking towards them, him being the slightest of nervous as Melanie felt butterflies want to jump and claw out of her stomach.
How could she be this nervous of meeting people.
Once again, how could she feel this way for cute boys when she had been around them her whole life?
"Issac Lahey," Turning from Issac, he looked at Melanie, as well as Issac who let off a smile, her copying his expression. "Melanie Pollastri."
Reaching out, they shook hands as a smile began to form on Scott's face, him leaving to meet up with his own friends.
"You know what's weird? If I was ever going to have a baby boy, I was going to name him Issac." Listening into her heartbeat, he found out that she was telling the truth.
"It's not a common name, but most people find it to be a lovely name." Issac claimed as they both turned, heading towards the exit as school had ended.
"Do you play any, uh, sports?" Pulling a strand of hair from her eyes, she pushed open the door, him following close behind.
"Lacrosse. I used to suck at it, but practice shows off." Issac lied, knowing the only reason he was good at it was because of him being a werewolf.
"Seems like we have a lot in common." Melanie almost complimented him on him playing lacrosse, but she thought not to.
At least not yet.
"So, what do you do for playing sports?" Issac questioned, interested in how she spent her evenings.
"Well, back in England it was rare to play lacrosse for most of the schools I went to, but when I was home, I'd play lacrosse. Some schools had archery teams, and that's where I found that my talent was a bow and arrow. You know how in the movie, Brave, if you ever have seen it, Merida hits the bullseye and then shoots another arrow, splitting the arrow in bullseye? After a lot of practice, I was able to do that, and archery is one of those places that I can get away." Melanie said, watching as Issac remained calm, but on the inside his heart was speeding up, pounding at his chest.
"It sounds like a sport you can wind down at. Lacrosse it a lot more intense." Issac slowed down his heart enough to seem calm, but it wasn't.
"Okay," Stopping where she was, she put all her weight on her right leg as her hair tilted to her right shoulder, falling over. "What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?" Issac questioned, unsure of what she meant.
"Scott had the same expression as you. Either you both have a major test that you haven't studied for at all this week and it's tomorrow, or it's about me." Melanie secretly hoped for the first option.
She didn't like being worried about.
Well, people worrying because of her.
"It's the first option. Major test happening and neither of us had studied." Good thing she wasn't a werewolf, otherwise she would so tell he was lying.
He showed enough signs to prove he was.
"Well, if you'd like, you could come to my house tonight and I could help you study." Melanie waited for his answer, hoping he'd say yes.
"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea." Issac told her as she began to write down her address and number on his hand, smiling at him when she finished.
"Here's my address," Pointing at where she wrote her address, she moved her finger over to her number. "And here's my number, in case something pops up. You can come around five, if it works for you."
Turning, she left him to look at his hand before looking up, not noticing that his friends were keeping a close eye on him.
And were secretly happy for him.