Chapter 2: Don't Believe the Myth
"So what happened after I left? Were you able to get a chance to show off your skills?" Erica's question seemed to overtake all sound in Melanie's room due to her putting her phone on speaker. She didn't want to keep her head tilted while she practiced her stick handling and end up with a crick in her neck. Coach was looking for any excuse to make sure she wasn't on the team. Not that he needed to do that by himself, Jackson seemed to have the same plan in mind.
"Not really," Melanie replied, twisting her stick in her grip as she paced. "Coach kept Scott in goal for the most part and Jackson wouldn't let anyone else take him on until he got a shot in. By the time that happened we only had fifteen minutes left which were reserved for conditioning." Her lungs still ached from the sprints they were ordered to do. The hot bath she took once she got home was heaven on her overworked muscles.
"Aww, that sucks. But you have another practice tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah. We figure out if we're one-step closer to being first line or not. If we don't make it we're benched for the rest of the season and don't play." Melanie sighed. "I have to make the team, Eri, I just have to. If I don't I'll die."
Erica's laugh filled the air. "Didn't you say the same thing about seeing Simple Plan in concert?"
"And look who's still alive," Melanie pointed out, causing the two girls to burst into laughter. Once it subsided, Melanie dropped her stick onto her bed and sat down in her computer chair. Pulling her phone closer to her laptop, she began clicking around on the open tabs. "Can you believe how amazing Scott was today?"
"He did so well. It's strange, he wasn't this good last year," Erica commented.
"Yeah. What in the world made him better in one day? D'you think he was bitten by some radioactive spider?"
"Well, we haven't seen giant spider webs in town so I think that can be ruled out." The phone crackled as Erica sighed. Melanie could almost see her perched on her bed, her hair piled in a messy bun on her head, reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose, with her school books spread out around her. "Maybe he just improved."
"Overnight?" Melanie's eyebrow lifted to reflect the incredulous tone attached to her words. "While Stiles is still hopeless?"
"Well, you're asking the wrong girl. I don't know much about sports."
"Fair point. Hey, did you hear anything else about that dead body in the woods?"
"No, I haven't heard a thing. I don't think I want to either."
Melanie ignored her statement as she continued speaking. "So I was trying to figure out what it could be that would have attacked and killed that person. I mean, it was split in half. Split in half. And what kind of animal out here would do that?"
"Melanie," Erica started.
"I looked some stuff up and then I realized—duh!—it's freaking obvious what it was!"
"Mel."
"It was a wendigo! It had to be a wendigo. Do you know what that is? See, a wendigo is a demonic half-beast that can possess characteristics of a human or a monster that had transformed from a person. And you want to know what they're known for? Cannibalism. Yeah! Cannibalism! Can you believe that? It has this emaciated frame, thin skin, and no lips because, supposedly, they eat them. They eat their own lips! Sick, huh? Anyway, I was thinking—"
"Melanie!" Erica shouted, successfully stopping her friend's stream of information. "For one thing, that's disgusting and I think you've been reading too many mythology books. For another, I don't think that a…windigo?...is an actual thing, let alone something that attacked someone in the woods. And for another, did you ever talk to Stiles?"
Melanie sucked in a breath, her nose wrinkling simultaneously. She had spoken to Stiles throughout the day…just not about what she wanted her to talk to him about. But, in her defense, it was hard to bring the subject up because Scott was either talking about Allison or Stiles was talking about Lydia. Having one obsessed boy on her hands was one thing but having them both? It was enough to make her want to stab her eardrums with sharpened pencils. They'd had crushes before, this wasn't new, but then again they weren't so obsessed with their past crushes either. It was a whole new ballgame in high school. Hormones suck.
"Sorry, I never got a chance to bring it up. But, I mean, this is Stiles we're talking about. It's a very safe bet that he doesn't have a girlfriend," she reasoned, leaning back in her chair. At the sound of a knock on her door she tilted her head back all the way to see who it was that was standing in her doorway.
"Dinner's ready," her father, Laurence, said from upside-down. He towered in the space of the door-frame; his muscular arms nearly touched the wooden beans on either side of him. At first glance he could come off as imposing but she knew the real truth: he was a giant softy; a nerd at heart who gushed over any and every dog they passed, who pointed out every shape a cloud made, and who whistled show-tunes as he made breakfast.
"Alright, I'll be right there. I'm just talking to Erica," Melanie replied, lifting her head so she was sitting up straight. She blinked; her hands held up in midair, and then grasped her head. "Whoa, head rush. Anyway, Eri, I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Or…y'know, you could talk to him yourself?"
"No way," Erica replied almost immediately. Melanie huffed. Erica had known Stiles and Scott longer than Melanie has and yet she had hardly said ten words to them in the past few years alone. Her crush on Stiles couldn't be that debilitating could it? After all, if she could still look Scott in the eye and have a normal conversation with him despite—
Moving on.
"Eri, they're cool guys. I mean, the rest of the school may not think so but they're fun to spend time with. And just once I want to have lunch with all of you instead of having to pick and choose."
Erica sighed. For a while she didn't say anything in response. Melanie even had to check her phone to be sure that she was still on the line and they hadn't been disconnected. "It's just…too complicated." Melanie pressed her lips together. Complicated was code for she didn't feel comfortable enough with herself to want to put herself out there and sit with them. And it bugged her. Here she thought Erica was one of the coolest people in the world but that meant nothing if she didn't believe it herself. "I don't get why you even want to be seen with me sometimes."
"Because I don't give a shit what others think, the only opinion I care about is yours," Melanie replied almost automatically. "And the only one you should care about is mine and I think you're fucking awesome." She held up her finger when her father cleared her throat. "Look, I have to go eat. But after dinner maybe you could help me with Chemistry 'cause none of this is making sense to me."
"Sure. Once you get the formulas it's pretty easy."
"Says the girl who's held a 3.8 GPA since middle school."
"Well, when you have no one else to hang out with studying becomes something to do to fill time."
Ignoring her comment Melanie bid her goodbye and jabbed her phone screen to hang up the phone. Spinning around in her chair, she faced the door and stood. Stretching her arms above her head, she staggered forward and leaned into her father's side as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
"Good day?" he asked, rubbing her back as they went downstairs. The scent of cooked dinner wafted up the stairs and met them halfway. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered as she inhaled the smells.
"Yeah, I guess," Melanie replied. The two entered the kitchen right as her mother, Arabella, took her seat that the small round table. Arabella's hair was pulled back into its usual low sidebun, nary a hair was out of place. She and Laurence sat down in their respectful places, bowed their heads for a quick grace, and began passing around dishes to serve helpings on their plates. "As good as the first day back can be," she said, continuing the conversation. "Coach Finstock is letting me try out for the team, though, so that's good."
"This late in the season?" her mother asked, pausing with her fork to her mouth. Her eyes flickered from Laurence's face and back.
"Well, it would have been earlier if I didn't have that concussion," Melanie explained, licking cheese sauce off her thumb. "It wasn't even that bad but Coach didn't want to risk it, so he says. Anyway, because the principal is on my side I can try out. Didn't get much in today, though. Somehow Scott got crazy good and so Jackson's ego was bruised and he wouldn't let anyone else go against him. But later we play for first line so hopefully I'll have my chance then. Cross your fingers."
"Jackson," Arabella said slowly. "That Whittemore boy? The one that's a bit…overzealous?" The worry in her tone wasn't lost on Melanie. It didn't help that her eyebrows were knitted together to the point that it made her worry lines deepen.
"He's focused," Melanie corrected her. Focused to the point of wanting to annihilate anything in his path. "But if I'm going to be on the team I'll have to beat the best, and that's him." She shoved macaroni into her mouth to avoid having to answer any question that her mother may ask next. After all, it was rude to talk with her mouth full.
"Sweetie, maybe you should rethink this," Arabella said. She picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip. The glass came away clean, free of her red lipstick. "You could get hurt. You're smaller than those boys."
"She can use that to her advantage," her father jumped in. He paused to cut a piece of steak and placed it in his mouth. "She's lower to the ground for a better center of gravity and she could be quicker than some of the boys."
"Yes, but what I am saying is that they may not take it kindly that a girl is on the team."
"So long as she proves her worth it shouldn't matter."
"Laurence, you're not hearing me."
"I'm hearing you fine, honey."
"Okay, we don't even know if I've made the team yet. No sense in worrying about the 'what ifs', right?" Melanie jumped in, trying to change the subject to a better topic. The tension settled upon them like a sudden rain storm. She could almost see the gray clouds growing above their heads.
"What if she makes it on the team, what then?" Arabella demanded, clutching her wine glass in her hand. Her knuckles began to turn white.
"Then she plays," Laurence replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"And it's that easy?"
"Yes."
"No. What if she gets hazed? What if she gets teased? What if she gets bullied?"
"Look, I can handle whatever the guys throw my way," Melanie tried to speak up. "I have Scott and Stiles there and—"
"Honey, please," Arabella interrupted her. She finally set down her wine glass and crossed her arms over her chest. Her bright blue eyes bore into her husband as she broke her usually proper posture to slump in her seat. "Your father and I are having a discussion."
"I know. About me. And since I'm the subject I would like to think that I get a say in it," Melanie continued. "Let's just have dinner."
But she could already tell that her pleas were falling on deaf ears. That hard look appeared in their eyes, which meant they weren't going to give up anytime soon. Which only meant that one or both of them was going to go to bed angry. Another normal night at the Crowe house.
Melanie slumped in her chair and picked at her food, having lost her appetite. Their arguments had become a bit more frequent lately, she couldn't help but notice. It started out as the odd argument here and there as the holidays drew near. She had attributed it to stress since their arguments stopped around Christmas and New Years. But as soon as the date changed to January 2nd the petty fights started up again. A dish wasn't dried completely. Shoes were left by the front door. A silverware drawer had been left open. And would it kill them to remember to close the cabinet door?
"I just don't want her to get hurt, Laurence," Arabella continued, her voice softening.
"And you think I do?"
Heaving a sigh, Melanie pushed back against the small table. Her chair scraped against the floor at the effort. She thought that, of all things, would stop them from fighting but it was as if they hadn't heard a sound. Figures. Abandoning her food, she took the stairs two at a time and went back to her room. Dropping down on her bed, she pulled her computer onto her lap woke up her computer screen right as she got a skype call.
"You have amazing timing," she relayed to Erica.
"I was taking a chance that you were back by now. You eat fast," she replied. She was lying down on her bed, clad in her sweats. Her legs kicked through the air as she flipped through the pages in a textbook.
"Actually, I barely ate. Couldn't get anything down with the atmosphere down there," Melanie relayed, slumping in her seat.
Erica paused, a highlighter hanging out of the corner of her mouth. "They're fighting again?"
Melanie rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Yep, over lacrosse this time. Mom's worried I'll get hurt. I mean, I don't blame her but…I was hoping she'd give some support."
"You're her only kid, it's understandable." Erica paused and then a sly smile appeared on her face. "Hey, take a look under your pillow."
"Why? Did you put Alex Pettyfer there?" Melanie joked as she pulled out the plug so she could move to her bed. She pried her shoes off her feet by stepping on the heels and then rested against the mountain of pillows that lay against the headboard. Once she was comfortable she stuck her hand beneath the pillows and felt something crinkle. Eyebrows furrowed, she pulled it out and then grinned at Erica's enthusiastic "tah dah!"
"Erica! When did you do this?" Melanie asked, laughing in glee as she dug her hand into the bag of mini Snickers that now lay on her keyboard.
"I asked my mom to stop by after my appointment," she replied. She propped her cheek upon her palm; her blond hair cascaded to one side. "I didn't anticipate your parents' fighting but I thought it would come in handy after your practice today."
"See, this is why I love you and we'll be married one day. Mark my words. Who needs boys when I have you?" Melanie tugged the wrapping paper off the candy and bit it in half. "And we'll have it on the beach with a bonfire reception like we've always wanted. Remember? With fireworks and sparklers and mason jars to catch fireflies."
"And twinkly lights?" Erica asked.
"Yeah," Melanie replied, getting comfortable against the pillows. "And twinkly lights."
# # #
The next morning roused Melanie bright and early due to the sounds of the kitchen door slamming shut, Arabella on her way to open up the town's local flower shop, of which Melanie helped out sometimes, and Laurence on his way to the town's motorcycle dealership.
They made a weird pair at face value. Laurence a tall, handsome, muscular man with a stubble-covered chin, heavy eyebrows and dark eyes appeared intimidating at first glance. It probably didn't help that some nights he took to teaching MMA fighting style to those willing to learn. As compared to Arabella, a graceful, thin thing who always knew what to wear, what to say, and what to do. A hair was never out of place on her head, her makeup was always on point, and she had an air about her so peaceful that anyone speaking to them became conflicted on how to react. Melanie swore she modeled once at one point but her mother always shot down her claims.
Rubbing her tired eyes, she brushed crud away and yawned. After an all night study marathon with Erica over Chemistry, History, and Economics—the trifecta of horrors—she wasn't particularly excited to have to go over it again in school of all places. But it was another day for her to try and show Coach Finstock she knew what she was doing and that was her only motivation for getting up.
Pushing aside her laptop, which was still open to a tab about super humans, she grabbed her clothes and jumped in the shower. She turned up the volume on her water-proof radio and sung along to the current Top 40 hits that played one right after another. Some people thought in the shower, she held a concert in the shower; shampoo bottle microphone, soap bubble audience and all.
After two encores, she finally stepped out of the shower and dried off. She dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and jumped into her clothes once she noticed the time on the clock on the wall. She was going to be late picking up Erica. Leave it to the girl still not having her license. Mrs. Reyes claimed it was because she wasn't ready for it but they both knew why: she didn't want to risk Erica having a seizure behind the wheel.
If she were to be honest with herself, Melanie was worried about that as well. She was used to Erica's random seizures by now. Hell, with the whole YouTube video fiasco she was the only one who knew not to put anything in her mouth because she could break her teeth. In fact, Melanie was sure that Erica biting through her tongue was a better risk than breaking her teeth.
The first time she had seen Erica have a seizure was when they had just started middle school and were having a sleepover to celebrate getting through the first week. There they were, sitting on Melanie bed, eating candy and playing computer games when she noticed that something was off with Erica.
Erica sat against her headboard but she wasn't moving. Her eyes rolled in her head and when they weren't she stared off into the distance. Melanie screamed for her parents and they came charging in in a flurry. It wasn't long after that she had learned that Erica was epileptic and that she had been skipping some of her medication.
"I just wanted to be normal," she said when Melanie asked her about it the next day. "I wanted to be like everyone else." Thankfully it was only a petit mal seizure and not a grand mal seizure that Erica had experienced. Ever since that day Melanie made sure to check on Erica's medication routine, acting like a second mother in that respect, all the while making it her mission to help Erica realize that she was like everyone else and she was normal and, no, she wasn't fat. Middle School was a trying time on its own, Erica didn't deserve the extra pressure. But hey, teens were cruel, what could they do?
Grabbing her backpack and lacrosse stick, Melanie shoved her phone into her pocket and raced down the stairs. She ran into the kitchen to grab an apple and then ran out the door to her truck…only to run back and lock the door she had forgotten about and then jump inside.
Throwing her bag and stick to the back, she slammed the door shut and turned the keys in the ignition. Her truck roared to life. Shifting the car into the reverse, she jammed her foot against the gas pedal and shot backwards out of the driveway. It was a good thing she looked in the rearview mirror as she went for, in the last second, something popped into her view.
"Shit!" she yelled, stomping on the brakes. With a loud squeak her truck stopped. Heart beating hard in her chest, she put the vehicle into park and shakily got out. Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, she slowly walked to the back of the car to see what it was that had made her stop. Right behind her back left tire was a trembling, brown and black ball. Crouching, Melanie got closer to get a better look. "Hey, it's okay," she cooed to the little thing. "It's okay. You can come out now."
As she reached her hands forward she saw that the little ball had four feet, a tail, and big brown eyes. It was a German Shepherd puppy. She gently wrapped her arms around the puppy's torso and held him close to her chest. Its small body continued to tremble in her arms as she went back to her truck. His neck was free of a collar so there weren't any tags to check. She frowned, setting him in the passenger seat. She would just take a little detour to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic and then get on her way to school; just to be sure it was alright.
# # #
"Oh, so that's why you were so late this morning," Erica mused aloud as she leaned against the locker right by Melanie's as she pulled books out of her backpack. It was the middle of the day and the first time Melanie really had a chance to explain what had gone on that morning. After dropping the puppy off with Dr. Deaton she had raced to get Erica and drove them to school as fast as she could to make sure they made it in before first bell. Thankfully, they had, even with the dance party they had in the car on the way over. But it hadn't given them enough time to talk before classes started. "I hope the puppy's okay."
"Well, I didn't run it over so I think it's a safe bet that it's fine," Melanie replied. "Although Dr. Deaton said he's going to call me later and then put up lost dog signs." She shoved her stick into her locker and started pulling out more books. "It had no tags so my guess is that it was recently purchased for someone."
"Or abandoned," Erica said quietly.
Melanie paused, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach at the mere idea. "Or that," she agreed. "But if it's not claimed in a certain amount of time he said I can keep it. I've always wanted a dog."
"Yeah, but will your mom let you have one?" Erica asked.
Melanie shrugged. "I can get my dad to convince her. That can't be too hard." Deep inside of her she scoffed. Who was she kidding? Trying to convince her mother would probably end up in another fight but she was sure once her mother saw the little dog's face she would be won over immediately. She already was checked her phone every five minutes. In fact, she instinctively looked down again.
"Waiting for something?" Melanie lifted her head as Allison approached her locker. Erica muttered something and moved out of her way. Allison's eyebrows lifted as she opened her locker door, waiting for Melanie to answer.
"Oh. Uhm, yeah. Just a phone call is all," she replied, shoving her phone into her pocket. "S'not all that important."
Smiling gently, Allison closed her locker door and replaced the lock. "They're all important when it comes to girls, right?"
Before Melanie could answer the bell rang. Students milling by their lockers were now on the move. "I got French now so I'll catch you later, Eri," she told Erica.
"At lunch?" she asked. "It's pizza day."
"Definitely!" Melanie replied, her eyes lighting up at the news. "You get the pizza, I'll save a table."
"Deal." The two high fived and Erica rushed off to her class.
Melanie turned around to get to her class only to jump and flinch when she noticed Allison still standing there. "Geeze!" she cried out, her hand jumping to he chest. Her heart beat hard beneath her skin. She sighed. "A ninja, I'm telling you."
"Sorry," Allison said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's just…you said you had French now. And I have that class too. I figured we could…walk together."
Melanie had to stop her nose from wrinkling but she wans't quick to catch the fleeting Where's Lydia that shot through her mind. The snide tone attached to the words made her shudder. Pushing away the shame that had risen in her, Melanie nodded, signaling them forward. "You have Ms. Morrell, right?" she asked. Allison confirmed. "Good. She's the best French teacher in the world. You got lucky."
"Oh? Well that's good," Allison said. "I haven't been taking French long. I still get some of the conjugations wrong." Melanie's eyebrows furrowed. Her last name was a French one if she wasn't mistaken, so how couldn't she…? Then she mentally slapped herself. Just because she may possibly be of French origin doesn't mean she actually knows the language, dummy. Melanie was pulled out of her thoughts when Allison cleared her throat. "How long have you been taking French?"
"Me? Oh just since middle school," Melanie replied with a wave of her hand. Her father slipped into his native tongue every now and then around the house. He'd whisper words here and there for her mother to hear, something that would make her blush and giggle and shoot sly smiles his way. Other times it'd randomly come out to further voice his dismay or surprise at what came his way. It always put a smile on her face when her father would exclaim "zut alors!" if he banged his head or dropped something. Thus, when middle school came around, she took it upon herself to take the class. It would have been easier if her father had just taught her the language from the get-go but he said he didn't want to impose on her. "It's not that hard of a language, I don't think. You just have to remember everything is masculine or feminine."
That made Allison chuckle. "I always found that a bit silly, giving objects genders."
Melanie couldn't help but laugh as well. It was a funny thought. "Yeah, how are we supposed to tell if an apple is a boy or a girl anyway?"
Changing her voice to a stage whisper Allison said, "By the length of their stem. But they don't want us checking for that. Modesty and all."
"And yet they have no problem with us biting their skin off."
"Ugh, that's gross thinking of it that way."
"Hey, you brought it up."
By the time the two girls reached the classroom their cheeks were bright red from laughing so hard. They slipped in just before Ms. Morrell closed the door and they took the two remaining seats left in front of Isaac. Allison chose the furthest one away leaving Melanie to sit in front of him. She lifted her chin in acknowledgement of him in a very sporty manner. All he did was blink in response. Okay, whatever. Melanie sat down and got out her notebook.
"So," Allison whispered, turning around. Melanie lifted an eyebrow. But Allison paused and played with one of the bent spirals on her notebook, her eyes downcast. Finally she sighed, looked up at Melanie and said, "I hear you're friends with Scott?"
"And Stiles," Melanie replied. "Kinda," she added. "We're not best friends, not like those two are, but we are decent friends. Good friends, I guess." Her nose wrinkled. It was weird trying to decipher what they were. While she didn't eat with them every day and didn't hang out with them as much as she did Erica she did consider them her close friends. That was good enough. Then her eyes narrowed as she remembered the way Scott and Allison looked at each other the day before. Her muscles tensed in preparation. "Why?" She hoped she didn't sound as suspicious as she felt.
"Oh, I just—"
But Allison couldn't finish for Ms. Morrell started clapping her hands, asking them for their attention. Once she had it she stood at the front of the room and leaned on her desk. "Okay, class. As we've been covering so far, we are going to continue to learn about travel and geography in this semester. So what better way to start off than with a project?" That earned groans from the class of which she brushed off. "It won't be long. All you are going to do is research a country in Europe and explain why you would like to visit as well as give a few facts about the culture. The catch is, you have to give the presentation in French. You will split into groups of two."
At this Allison turned around and widened her eyes, silently asking for Melanie to be her partner. She hesitated and licked her lips. Ms. Morrell clapped her hands again to get everyone's attention. "The groups have already been picked out and the countries have already been assigned. Please, make your way to the library. The rest of the class will be dedicated to beginning your research."
Collecting her books, Melanie followed the masses to the library. While in the hall she lifted the headphones that had been resting around her neck and placed them over her ears. Ms. Morrell usually didn't mind if they listened to music while they worked so long as their duties were divided up in a way that both partners had a chance to get equal work done.
Once entering the library Melanie was told that she was assigned Greece which excited her. She had always been into Greek Mythology. Skipping off to the world travel section and singing along to the song playing beneath her breath, she dragged her fingers along some of the book spines until she found a few books that grabbed her attention. She even got a few mythology books for good measure, and so she could read them while under the guise of actually working.
Now dancing due to the pop music that flowed through her ears, she carried her books back to the table she had chosen. Setting them down, she turned to her backpack and began to dig her for her notebook. Once she pulled it out she finally let gravity take her down to sit in a chair…
…only to sit on someone's lap instead.
"Holy shit!" she shrieked in surprised, jumping up. In her haste to back away, the backs of her knees hit the other chair behind her and she fell end over end onto the floor in a heap. She popped back onto her feet in a second, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as she looked around. Sure enough, she had everyone's attention. Throwing her arms into the air she cheered "and she sticks the landing!" earning a few laughs. Setting her chair upright she sat down and then rubbed her face in her hands. Only when the overwhelming feeling of being watched got to her she spread her fingers and looked through them to see that it was Isaac, of all people, was sitting next to her and looking at her. "Sorry!" she squeaked, dropping her hands. "I-I didn't see you there. You were so quiet. I didn't even…and I sat on you! Oh god, I'm so sorry!"
"It's-it's okay," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "You probably couldn't hear because of the…" he pointed to his ears.
What? Melanie reached her hands up and then smacked herself in the forehead with her palm. She had completely forgotten she was wearing headphones. She slowly took them off her ears and hung them around her neck. Silence stretched out between them. Melanie began to hum. Then, for something to do, she grabbed the books she had dropped onto the table and pulled them towards her.
"So! Greece! We got a good one, eh?" she asked, trying to make conversation as she flipped through the pages. "I thought we could talk about some mythology, if that's alright with you. Maybe act something out?" At the way his eyes widened and the expression of horror on his face she quickly backtracked. "Okay! No acting. I get it. But maybe we can choose one story and stick with that? Like…." she flipped pages so rapidly that, unsurprisingly to her, she got a papercut. "Ouch," she muttered, turning her thumb over to look at the cut. It wasn't too bad but it stung.
"Y-you okay?" Isaac asked, looking over at her.
She nodded her head. "Yeah. A papercut's not gonna stop me. I have a practice to dominate after all." If I ever get a chance to get on the field today, that is. Licking her thumb again, she turned a few more pages and then stopped on a picture of a naked bird-like woman. Her body was all woman but she had wings growing out of her back and she was sitting on rocks, beckoning to a boat. Melanie's eye swiveled over to the large words on the other page that announced what that chapter was about: Sirens. She moved to turn the page but the particular sensation of being watched made her take pause. She looked up, finding Isaac staring at her. "What?"
"It's just…you're still trying out?" he asked. He played with a pen in his hands. "For lacrosse, I mean?"
"Yeah," Melanie replied sternly. "Is that a problem?" She wondered how long it would take for him to join the masses of the team. Did Jackson get to him too?
Isaac shook his head. "No. I don't. I'm just checking." He fell silent. Thinking the conversation was over, Melanie grabbed her notebook and flipped it open to a blank page. She hesitated for a moment, wondering she should write her notes in French or English first. Shrugging, she went with ease and decided to write it down in English first. "I-I think it's cool," he added.
He spoke so suddenly Melanie had no idea what he was talking about. "You think what's cool?" she asked.
"Oh, uhm, that you want to play on the team," he explained.
"Oh!" She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thanks." She held his gaze for a moment and then went back to writing her notes. Isaac followed her lead and opened up a book. "I just hope it all works out."
"Well...why wouldn't it?"
"You heard Coach. He doesn't want a girl on his team. And Jackson's not hiding that he wants the same thing."
"Coach isn't stupid. He wants to win."
"He also wants his team his way."
"Maybe but...you're better than a lot of the other guys. And soon he'll know it."
Isaac's conviction put a pleased smile on her face but it didn't make her doubts go away. Sure, she wanted to be on the team. Badly. She'd wanted to be on the team since she first saw the Beacon Hills High Cyclones storm the field a few years ago. And while she had her eyes on the prize she wasn't that naive about how she would fare. Them being bigger than her was one thing but now she had a new obstacle in place: who knows what practice would be like if Scott's sudden improvements weren't a fluke.
a/n - Thanks for the reviews, favs, and alerts so far! I'm glad to see that people like this story and find Melanie like a real girl. As if you couldn't tell already, I love writing Erica's and Melanie's friendship. It puts warm fuzzies in my heart. They're just so cute together. And there was more Isaac in this chapter! Yay Isaac! Knowing how important he becomes later I threw him in so there wasn't too much backstory in this chapter. I can't give Melanie away all at once, right? So, she's already a bit suspicious of the goings on around Beacon Hills but how much does she really know? You're going to have to keep reading to find out! Please review and enjoy! Constructive criticism is welcomed.
*Revised 6/20/18*
