Chapter 5: Cold Comfort
"Oh my god, you should've seen Jackson's face when I got that goal past him!" Melanie gushed as she held a shirt in front of her. Scrunching up her face, she tossed it aside and picked up another from the large pile on the chair near the mirror. "It was the funniest thing I've ever seen! Like he had gotten slapped in the face."
"He may as well have been," Erica commented from the bed. She held her cat on her lap and was stroking her hair, a small smile on her face. "I can't believe you made the team!"
"Only second line," Melanie sighed, tossing another shirt aside. "I'll be riding the bench all season."
"Second line's better than nothing, right?"
Her mouth twisted to the side. She'd be gunning for first line, saw it in her sights, and then it slipped through her grasp. All that hard work...for nothing. But still... Second line's better than nothing. "Right." She winked at Erica's reflection in the mirror. She couldn't stop smiling about the news despite how much she tried to downplay it. She was on the lacrosse team! She had made the lacrosse team! She was an official lacrosse Cyclone! It wasn't exactly what she wanted, and she had to swallow a massive ball of initial disappointment, but it didn't take long for that to pass. Now to celebrate the news, she was getting ready for Lydia's after-party which the entire team had been invited to attend. The lacrosse team were VIP guests.
"How'd your mom and dad take it?" Erica asked.
"They were happy," Melanie replied. "Dad was ecstatic of course, wanted to take me out for dinner but I convinced him and Mom to go by themselves. They could use time alone and I wanted to sleep over with my best friend in the entire world who should be coming to this party with me." Lifting her eyebrows and smiling wide, she wiggled the shirt that she was holding as if it was going to entice Erica to go.
Erica blew out a breath and shook her head. "I already told you, I'm not going. Lydia wouldn't even want me there."
"Lydia wouldn't even notice you're there," Melanie pointed out. "I'm not even sure she'll noticed I'm there."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem. No one would notice." Erica hung her head. "No one ever notices."
Huffing, Melanie sat down on the edge of Erica's bed and took her hand. "I would notice," she said gently. "And I do notice. I want you there to experience things with me. I missed you all day."
Erica snorted. "I could tell. You blew up my phone."
"Whose fault is that? Your's. Because you weren't there." She leaned forward and flicked Erica's nose. Erica playfully bit her finger. "Eri, please. It's just one night of fun. Look, Stiles is picking me up and we're going together. He has room in his jeep, you can come too."
Erica tried to hide it but Melanie saw her perk up at the mention of Stiles's name. The light that had been gone from her eyes reappeared and looked as if she was mulling it over. But then, it faded again, she shook her head, and leaned back against her pillows. "No, I'll just stay here." She tugged at a loose thread on the hem of her oversized t-shirt. "Tell me everything that happens."
"I don't want you sitting alone all by yourself," Melanie said.
Erica shrugged. "Nothing new, I'm used to it."
"Erica."
"Mel, you are on the boys' lacrosse team. You're a good player and you're only going to get better. You'll be pushed into the spotlight and me? I'll just be your dorky, overweight, acne-ridden friend who watches from the sidelines." Melanie opened her mouth to protest but Erica held up her hand to stop her. "Maybe that's how things are supposed to be. You know I'll always be your number one fan. You're destined or greatness and I'm destined to run your fan club."
"Erica—"
"Let me help you find something," she said, bouncing off the bed. Her cat, not liking being suddenly tossed aside, dropped to the floor and stalked out of the room. Erica skipped over to her closet and started pushing clothes aside on the hanger. Melanie couldn't tell what Erica was going for; besides half of Erica's closet was filled with Melanie's clothes and vice versa. It was easier to keep some things there with how often they were at each other's houses. Melanie abandoned the pile of clothes on the chair and joined her at the closet, hovering as Erica yanked something off of a hanger. "This is cute. It'll look good on you," she said as she held out a dark floral print romper to Melanie.
"Err…" Melanie said, holding the romper up in front of her. She vaguely remembered receiving it as a gift from her mother last year. It didn't surprise her that it ended up in Erica's closet. "It looks...short." She was sure her ass was going to hang out the back of it. No need to repeat her freshman year incident. She'd much rather the school be talking about her for making the team than flashing her ass to everyone who could see.
"I can fix that." Pushing aside more hangers, she pulled down a gray hooded cardigan and threw it to Melanie. "Wait! Add in…this belt and…oh! These boots." She gave Melanie the accessories and then paused while rubbing her chin. Snapping her fingers, she then went to her jewelry box and dug around until she pulled out a yin-yang pendant on the end of a black cord necklace. "Cute but casual. It screams you and it's much better than your constant band shirts and jeans."
Melanie stuck her tongue out at Erica before heading to her private bathroom to change. She liked her band shirts and jeans, thank you very much. As she looked over the clothes that Erica had lent her she couldn't help but notice how well everything seemed to go together. If it was that simple for her why didn't Erica dress in it all the time instead of going for something unflattering to her body? She didn't have time to entertain the thought further as she heard the distinct sound of Stiles's honking jeep.
"I think that's Stiles," Erica commented. Her muffled voice sounded further away; Melanie wouldn't put it past her to be hanging out the window just for a glimpse of him.
"I'm coming!" Melanie called, pulling up the thin spaghetti straps. She shoved her arms through the sleeves of the cardigan and stomped her feet into the boots and burst out of the bathroom. "Last chance, are you sure you don't want to go?" She stuck out her lower lip and widened her round eyes. "I'm gonna miss you," she said, adding a coo-like cadence to her words.
Erica picked up a pillow and bopped Melanie's head with it, grinning. "Go, you dork! Tell me everything."
"I will, I promise." She leaned forward and stood on her tiptoes to place a quick kiss on Erica's cheek. "See you. Love you."
"Love you, too."
Melanie rushed down the stairs, a little pep in her step as she went. In fact, the moment her feet touched the bottom floor she jumped into the air and clicked her heels. She reached the front door in time to hear Alicia Reyes address Stiles, "It's been a while. How is your father? I'm sure he has his hands full."
"Ah, you know, Pops is caught up with work," Stiles said; he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. Melanie noticed a small twitch in the corner of his mouth. "That senior citizen crowd is a rowdy bunch."
"Pretty sure she was talking about you," Melanie teased, pushing Stiles' head back with a finger to his forehead. He stumbled backwards and stuck his tongue out at her. "Miss Alicia, can you save me a few tapas for when I get back?"
Alicia smiled at her. "I'll see what I can do, Ruiseñor. Make sure you're back by eleven."
Melanie stared. "Eleven!? It's a Friday night!"
"Your mother insisted," Alicia replied with a shrug. "And you know Arabella, all the Is are to be dotted and the Ts to be crossed, whether you're here or there."
Oh yes, she certainly knew her mother's uptight ways. Melanie's mouth twisted to the side and then relaxed along with her heaving teenage-worthy sigh. "Okay, fine. I'll be back by eleven."
"Drive safely." Alicia turned a pointed stare to Stiles. "You are not the only one who is to return home tonight. Yes?"
"Sure thing," Stiles said. He spun his keys around his finger to signal that he was ready to go. Melanie gave Alicia a quick hug and followed him down the path. She turned over her shoulder and waved at Erica's silhouette in her window. She skipped the rest of the way to Stiles's jeep, opened the door with an elongated creak, and climbed inside. "Ruiseñor."
"What?" Her hand stalled on the seatbelt; her hair cascaded her face as she looked up at him.
"Ruiseñor," Stiles repeated. His long fingers curled around the steering wheel. "That's what she called you."
"Yeah, I know. She's been calling me that for years." Her buckle settled with a loud snap.
"Do you know what it means?"
"No." She shrugged. "Figure it can't be all that bad; Erica would've said something otherwise."
Stiles's reply was the sound of his engine turning over. He swiftly backed out of the driveway and off the went. Melanie bobbed her head along to the music crackling out of his speakers as she peered out into the darkness surrounding them.
"You look good, by the way," Stiles spoke up. He glanced away from the road to flash her a smile.
"You say that like you're surprised," Melanie commented.
"Not surprised. Not really. Figured you'd go with your usual ripped jeans and beanies."
She glanced down at his feet. "I notice you've ditched your converses."
He licked his lips. "Touche."
"Trying to impress a certain redhead?"
"Strawberry-blonde," Stiles immediately replied. Melanie's lips curled into a smirk. His eyes darted between her and the road so many times she thought that his eyes would pop right out of his head. "No, I'm not." Liar. He licked his lips. "Just, y'know...tryin' something new."
"Good. There's a lot of improvement that can be done but I think baby steps is the best way to handle it all," Melanie said. Stiles lifted his hand and extended his middle finger in her direction. Chuckling, she pushed it away. "So your better half is picking up Allison?"
"Yeah." Stiles licked his lower lip again, Melanie noted. "He's so stoked that someone as cool as her would want to go out with him."
Melanie shrugged. "Stranger things have happened." She glanced upwards, her eyes locking on the silvery moon that shone bright above them, casting down moonbeams like beacons. "Maybe the full moon has something to do with it."
Silence. Stiles swallowed. "What do you mean?"
Melanie looked at him. "I mean crazy things go on during the full moon. It's an actual thing! More accidents. More injuries. More crime. Worse sleep. Animals go crazy. There's so much shit that can happen during a full moon. It's where the term 'lunatic' came from, you know. People were so convinced that the moon had this great affect on our psyche. Seems to me there's some truth there." She watched as he rubbed a hand over his mouth and gripped the steering wheel tighter. Interesting. "Maybe that's why they found wolf hair on that girl." He whipped his head around. "Wasn't that what you were trying to tell Scott? That they found wolf hair on that dead body in the woods?"
Stiles turned his attention back to the road. She squinted, studying the side of his face. She caught the small, almost unnoticeable twitch to the muscle in his jaw. What was the big deal? It was just some animal hair. She couldn't quite figure out why it was so important for him to pass that information along to Scott, even past Stiles curiosity—as morbid as it was. Which meant that it had to mean something, right? And if it meant something...what sort of something did it mean to them?
"Yeah," Stiles replied, "yeah, I was. But...maybe they were wrong. Could've been a coyote or something."
"Maybe." But something within her didn't quite buy it. He sat too rigid and his words were too stilted for that to just be it. And as she leaned back in her seat and watched him lick his lips again it clicked. Pushing aside her own selfish curiosities, despite how much she wanted to press for an answer, she reached out and pushed his shoulder. "Hey, we made second line. We're going to Lydia Martin's party. If that's not an indicator that weird shit is happening, I don't know what is. All I know, we're going to have a bomb-ass time!" She stretched out, crossing her feet on the dash. "We're not going to forget this night, Stiles, I can feel it!"
# # #
By the time they made it to the party it was already in full swing. Guests danced on the space by the pool, arms up in the air, red solo cups clutched in their hands in time with the pop music that poured out of the speakers. Strings of light connected between the main house and the pool house. Inside guests were eating snacks and mingling about, the main topic of conversation being the scrimmage that day. A few guests were making out in corners on and on chairs in plain view but no one bothered them as they went about their business.
As soon as Stiles and Melanie arrived he set about looking for Lydia, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and maybe even thank her for inviting him. But that plan of action failed as soon as he saw her attached to Jackson's side so he turned his attention to mingling with other lacrosse players and talking about their upcoming season.
Melanie didn't mind continuing the conversation; she was excited to be a part of it. Tingles still shot over her body whenever she thought of being an official lacrosse player. She didn't want the feeling to go away anytime soon.
Sometime later a ripple went through the crowd to let some people pass and go out to the pool/dance area. Part of the group were Scott and Allison, both of whom looked as if they had just been struck by Cupid's arrow, shooting nervous smiles back and forth at one another. Heck, it was obvious they only had eyes for each other at that point. They were way beyond smitten.
"Dang, she looks good," a random boy commented, his eyes glued to Allison as she led Scott to the dance floor. "McCall's one lucky bastard. What does she see in him anyway?"
Melanie pursed her lips and tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at them. What didn't she see would be a better question. Anyone who knew Scott could easily say he was the sweetest, nicest boy on the planet. And obviously Allison figured that one out. It was nice to not be alone in that sentiment anymore but... Melanie turned away from the sight before the festering and strange angry twist in her stomach got worse.
She sipped on her can of soda throughout the night as people started to fall over due to being tipsy or flat-out drunk. After last year she and alcohol just didn't mix; she was lucky her mother never caught wind of those particular shenanigans. Beacon Hills was a small place, word spread faster than the cold. A game started among the small lacrosse group about who would be the next to fall over or who would puke first. Their bet was on Greenburg but when Scott rushed by them their guess changed to him.
"Whoa, Scott, you good?" Stiles called out, trying to reach his friend. But Scott kept going, his face scrunched up in pain. Stiles rubbed his hand over his short, buzzed hair, staring at Scott's retreating back. His lips moved but no sound came out. He swung his eyes over to Melanie. "Hey, Mels, can you go check on Allison while I deal with Scott?"
She blinked. "I guess, but—"
"Thanks!"
Melanie sighed when Stiles pushed his way through the crowd. Scott didn't seem to good and she would have liked to check on him herself but then she thought better of it. Allison would want to know why he suddenly split on her; maybe she could help smooth things over. This was his first shot at something...real. He didn't deserve to have that shut down right away. She put her soda can down and started pushing her own way through when Allison came through on the other side, chasing after Scott. Stopping on a dime, Melanie shifted her weight and followed after Allison, calling out her name but the girl seemed to be on a mission to get out. Allison was already down on the sidewalk in front of the house when Scott drove away once Melanie burst through the front door.
She had begun to call out to Allison again some guy in a leather jacket approached her. Eyebrows furrowing, she watched as he spoke to her. Something about him was off. Maybe it was his rigid stance, maybe it was the forced smile on his face, maybe it was that some twenty-something was hanging around a bunch of teenagers like some chaperone. And maybe it was because he felt familiar to her somehow. But...how? As he continued to speak, Allison tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted her weight, every now and then she'd glanced over her shoulder, down the street to where Scott disappeared. Digging into her pocket, Melanie pulled out her cell phone and used her finger and thumb to zoom in the camera to take a picture of him. The guy in the leather jacket tilted his head and Allison followed him.
Melanie turned back into the house, squeezing through any available space she could find. She had to find Stiles. She checked random rooms before going out the back and found him sprinting towards the back gate.
"Stiles! Stiles, wait!" she called out.
He planted his feet on the ground a couple of times to slow his movements as he looked over his shoulders. "Mel, what? I have to go after Scott!" he yelled back.
"It's Allison," she replied, waving her phone around and beckoning him to get closer. "If you find Scott tell him that this guy took her home. So he doesn't worry." She showed him the photo that she took.
"Right. Okay, got it. I gotta go!" he said and started to run again.
Melanie put her phone away when a thought occurred to her. "But, wait! Stiles! You're my ride!"
"I know!" he called back. "I'm sorry, this is an emergency! Find someone else!"
Melanie tossed one arm into the air and let it fall against her side. She shook her head. Unbelievable! The full moon was really working it's magic; those two were being so weird. Rolling her eyes, she walked around the side of the pool and tried to get through the dancing crowd to look for someone to drive her home. Instead she ended up coming face to face with Jackson; she let out a little yelp and turned in an attempt to get away but he was faster than her. He grabbed her shoulder and forced her back around to face her ate.
"Uhm, is there a problem?" she asked, trying to get out of his grasp but he held on tight.
"Just one," he replied, shaking her shoulder.
"And I'm guessing…it's me?" she said.
"Bingo." If he clenched his teeth any harder he'd be snacking on them. "Look, I'm sure everyone thought it was cute that you wanted to try out for the lacrosse team. Power to the girls and shit like that."
"Well, really, I have a big interest in the sport and—"
"Shut up," Jackson hissed, interrupting her. She nodded and pressed her lips together. "For some unfathomable reason—maybe it was luck—"
"—or skill—" she interjected but he kept going as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"—or pity, whatever it was you're on the team now. You must be so proud of yourself. But let's just get this one thing straight, if for whatever reason you actually set foot on that field you better bring it. Or I swear to god if you ruin our chances of being state champs you will regret it." The longer he spoke the more pressure he put onto her shoulder until she swore she heard her bones beneath her skin creak. "Clear?"
"Crystal," she replied, her voice strained. She let out a noise of relief once he let go of her shoulder and slipped into the crowd. She rubbed her aching shoulder and made a face at Jackson's retreating back. That would most likely leave a bruise. Or maybe that was his plan; injure her before she could do anything. But then she snorted. He wasn't smart enough for that.
"Watch it."
A couple rushed by on her left side, holding hands and giggling, most likely trying to find a place to get some privacy. In her haste to get out of their way she tripped over her feet. Her breath caught in her throat as her world turned and she headed straight for the pool. With nothing nearby to grab onto, she closed her eyes and accepted her fate. Her body smacked against the water and her clothes, now waterlogged, dragged her down.
The cold water stabbed at her, seeped into her skin within seconds. Her breath stalled in her throat and she stretched outwards, desperately reaching for the surface. No, not again! Please, not again! Her waterlogged boot brushed against the bottom of the pool. She pushed off and her head broke the surface. Spluttering, she ran her hand over her face to brush the chlorine water out of her eyes. Then the laughter around her filtered in.
Looking around, her stomach dropped at the sight of the pointing fingers and the sound of camera phone shutters going off. Her cheeks burned and her eyes quickly followed. But it wasn't from the chlorine; she wished it were that simple. Her lower lip began to tremble as she waded her way to the edge of pool. She could blame it on the cold air that made gooseflesh arise on her skin but then, deep down, it was hard to fight against the lump that was rising in her throat.
I told you so! a snide voice in her head screamed. This was a bad idea.
She had half a mind to ask for a towel but her heart and the embarrassment that coursed through her body made her start running as soon as she was out of the pool. It was stupid of her to come. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy to just fit right in with that group. It was stupid of her to trade in a night with her best friend to experience something new only to be ditched and manhandled and laughed at. And now she was freezing trying to run back to her friend's house with a fried phone in her pocket. Things couldn't get any worse!
Melanie jumped at the sound of squeaking metal and rubber sliding against gravel. She whipped around to see what it was that made the noise and her heart sank even further when she recognized the bike rider was Isaac Lahey. Of course! As he placed his feet on the ground to steady himself and the bike she used a damp sleeve to brush any tears off of her reddened eyes.
"Melanie? Is that you?" he asked.
"A w-water-logged v-v-version, yeah," she replied, sniffing.
"What happened? Um...are you alright?"
"P-party mishap. 'M t-trying t-to get to a f-f-friend's h-house."
He frowned. "On foot?"
"M-my ride k-kinda left without m-me. There was an e-emergency." At this point her entire body trembled due to still being wet in the cold January night. Her chattering teeth were audible in the still night. "W-would have called for a ride b-but my ph-phone's dead." Not to mention she didn't want to show her face at that party any longer. "Wh-what are you d-d-doing here?"
"I just, um, needed some fresh air," he replied. He peered at her a moment longer before reaching back and tugging on the hood of his sweatshirt. Once he pulled his arms free from the fabric he held it out to her. "Here. It's…it's really cold tonight."
She hesitated. "What about you?" she asked, nodding to his thin white t-shirt.
"You need it more than I do," he said, nodding his head at her. Her body shook with a sudden jolt of realization. There she was standing in not only wet clothes but super short wet clothes. She'd be crazy not to take his offer now. With reddened cheeks, she muttered a shaky 'thanks' and tugged the still warm sweatshirt down over her head, covering up the clothes that now clung to her like a second skin due to the water contained within it. The sweatshirt fell down to her knees, it was so large, and she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she probably looked.
"Thanks Isaac," she said, brushing her wet stringy hair behind her ear. Now her breaths started to appear in front of her face. "I'll gi-give it back at s-s-school. I'll w-w-wash it. Well…ssssssee ya." She waved, the flapping end of the sweatshirt that hung over her hand.
"Wait." Isaac wheeled the bike forward with his feet. "I, uh, I can ride you." Catching his mistake—although Melanie didn't notice it—he shook his head and corrected himself, "I mean, I can give you a ride. To, uh, to my place. You can dry off and we can call someone to get you. You shouldn't be walking in the cold."
She shook her head. "I w-wouldn't want t-t-to impose."
"You wouldn't be. Really."
Nodding, she approached his bike. Deciding to use his body as a shield from the air, she settled herself down on the center of the handlebars and held on tight, lifting her feet to rest on the spokes that poked out of the sides of the front wheel. Leaning back, she settled against his chest, sighing at the feeling of the warmth radiating off his body.
He cleared his throat and, after making sure she was balanced and holding on tightly, pushed off the ground and started pedaling. He went fast enough so they made good time but slow enough so that she wouldn't bounce off in case he rolled over a rock or accidentally ran over a curb. Thankfully he didn't live too far away from Lydia's neighborhood. He rolled up into his driveway fifteen minutes later, slightly out of breath.
"Are you s-sure I'm not imposing?" Melanie asked, jumping down from the bike.
"You're not," Isaac replied, leaning over to put down the kickstand. "My dad's at work and he won't be home for a while." He dug into his pocket and retrieved his keys all the while Melanie bit her thumbnail. She was about to go into a house of the son of a graveyard worker who wasn't home at the moment. For all she knew he was a serial killer and here she was walking right into his potential trap. The sound of the door unlocking made her mind focus on the present and allow her legs to inch her way inside.
"So, um, you can take a shower. Get out of those wet clothes," he continued as he dropped his keys in a nearby bowl. "I can get you some spare and then you can call whoever it is you need."
"Yeahh," Melanie said slowly, her arms still wrapped around herself. "I need a bra."
Isaac's facial muscles twitched which was quickly followed by a strange choking noise that sounded in his throat. She gave him a look and he rubbed his fingers across his lips. The combination of his wide blue eyes and slightly panicked expression on his face made. "…Okay," he finally replied. "I'll…think of something."
Nodding, she walked to the bedroom that he had pointed out for her so she could use the private bathroom. Taking a look around, she guessed that it was his room due to the band posters on the wall and textbooks and clothes littering the floor. Lacrosse gear lay in a corner of the room reeking of that familiar grass meets sweat smell. She frowned. He was on the lacrosse team too, why didn't he go to the party?
A strong shiver taking over her body made her thoughts stop and switch over to getting warm as soon as possible. She closed the bathroom door and flicked on the light, briefly glancing around. She resisted the common urge to look through his medicine cabinet and sat on the edge of the bathtub. She twisted the knob to warm water and lifted the plunger that made the water spurt out of the shower head. It didn't take long for steam to cover up the mirror.
She shed herself of the large sweatshirt and wet clothes that peeled off her skin. Gooseflesh popped up as her damp skin hit the air and then intensified once she stepped underneath the shower head and felt the warm water hit her. She yanked the shower curtain shut and stood stock still beneath the warm water, letting it trickle down over her head, her shoulders, across her back and belly, and then drip down her legs.
This was heaven.
She didn't know how long she had been in the bathroom but the sound of knocking on the door jumpstarted her to get out. She wrenched the curtain back, only to groan in pain at the sudden movement in her shoulder. Grasping it, she stepped out of the tub and onto the rug. Grabbing a nearby towel, she wrapped it around herself and opened the door a crack to peer out.
"I got you some dry clothes," Isaac said, holding his arm through the crack in the door so she could get the clothes out of his hand. "They'll, uh, be kinda big but they should work."
She accepted the clothes and smiled. "Thanks. I'll be out in a minute."
"Take your time."
She leaned back and closed the door. She briefly looked at the clothes —lounge pants and a long sleeved shirt—and then dropped her towel to change into them. The pants were loose, as she expected. She rolled the band over a few times to keep the legs from dragging on the floor. She had to roll up the sleeves of the shirt as well just so they didn't hang down over her hands. Gathering up the wet clothes she had borrowed from Erica, she shuffled out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Placing the clothes on the floor, she walked over to the stack of CDs on the short bookshelf that had grabbed her attention.
She dragged her finger across the spines of some of the CD cases as she looked them over, moving past Coldplay, Belle and Sebastian, and Feist before resting on The Offspring. Eyes lighting up, she pulled the case out of the stack and flipped it to the back. Looking around, she spotted his CD player and powered it on. She popped out the CD that had been in it before and replaced it with The Offspring CD in her hands. The disc slid into the slot and a few seconds later the bass intro of Can't Repeat flowed out of the speakers. Jabbing the next track button a few times she finally reached the song she wanted and cranked up the volume, jumping around when the guitars started.
"If you could only read my mind, you would know that things between us…aint right…"
There was nothing more therapeutic to her than music. She could always get lost in it, letting the notes and the rhythm and the lyrics wrap around her like a cocoon, shielding her from the stresses and the worries of the world. She lifted her arms in the air and continued to dance, jumping around and spinning in circles. She sang along to the song, dancing along to the drum beats and the guitar hits until she felt a bit lightheaded and dizzy but she kept going anyway. What was the fun in dancing if you didn't go all out?
"I want you in a vinyl suit, I want you bad. Complicated. X-rated. I want you bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Bad."
The song winded down, beginning to lead into the bridge. It was only then that she got the particular feeling of being watched. Whirling around, she flinched when she noticed Isaac leaning against the door frame, tapping a phone in his palm, an amused expression on his face. She sighed, her shoulders sagging, and jabbed the pause button ith her thumb. "Alright, you caught me. You know my secret, Lahey. I, Melanie Crowe, am a closet insta-dance-party-dancer."
Standing up straight, he ran a hand through his wavy hair and held out the phone with his free hand. "I can see why you're still in the closet about it," he commented. "Some of those moves? Yeah, they don't deserve to see the light of day."
"Hey! Mr. Broody can joke!" Melanie exclaimed, taking the phone from him. "What else can you do?"
"Ah…play lacrosse," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "That's about it."
"That's lame. You have to have some secret talent." He shrugged. She mimicked his motion and then punched in the number to Erica's house using muscle memory. She had the number memorized since she was eight. "Eri! Hey!" she said once Erica picked up. "Listen, something happened, can you get your mom to come pick me up?"
"Yeah, but why? What happened to Stiles?"
"It's a long story. I just need her to come get me."
"Okay, hold on." Melanie placed a hand on her hip while she waited for Erica to relay the message. She could hear her yelling for her mom in spanish. A few seconds later she heard Erica's mom yell back. Then Erica came back on the line. "She says she'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Great, thanks. Wait! I'm not at Lydia's! I'm at Isaac's."
"Lahey?"
"Yeah, that one."
"Why are you at Isaac's?"
"Due to a combination of Scott, of Stiles, of a pool, and a broken phone. Look, I'll explain all of this once I get there, okay?"
"Okay, okay. See you soon."
"See ya."
Melanie hung up the phone and tossed the phone back to Isaac. "My ride will be here in twenty minutes," she relayed, crossing her arms across her chest in a loose manner. She turned to the bookshelf again. "So where'd you get your taste in music?"
"It's mostly from my brother, Camden," Isaac replied. Melanie nodded. She vaguely remembered hearing about his passing a few years ago. She remembered that Isaac wasn't in school for about a week after that news broke out. "He liked a lot of different genres and whenever he heard something he thought I would like he'd pass the CD or vinyl onto me."
"You have some good stuff here. Though I do have to make a comment about…" she paused for dramatic effect and then pulled a CD off the shelf, "Taylor Swift." Her eyebrows lifted and she pressed her lips together to try and contain her amused smile.
His mouth dropped open, as if he were about to say something, but then he closed it. It opened again and then he closed it again. He rested his palm against his mouth and squinted at her as she laughed. "It's okay; I know she has some catchy songs. I'm not judging," she said, putting the CD back. "It's okay to like what you like." Pausing she asked the question that came to her mind, "Do you listen to her music to pump yourself up before a lacrosse game?"
Isaac rolled his eyes. "No, I don't need music for that," he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I have a different sort of motivation."
"Oh yeah?" Now she was interested. Tucking her still damp hair behind her ears she sat down next to him. "What's that? D'you imagine the other players are bugs that you crush beneath your feet or something?"
"No. I, hmm…" he turned his eyes away and clasped his hands together, "I just…think that every person is standing in my way of gaining control."
Her eyes squinted. At the core of it that was what lacrosse was about, in a way, gaining control of the ball and trying to keep running with it. But it wasn't what he said that made her confused. It was the faraway look in his eyes as he spoke. As if he was looking but he wasn't exactly seeing.
"So what made you want to play lacrosse in the first place?"
He shrugged. "It's one of the few sports my brother didn't play at Beacon Hills," he replied.
She opened her mouth, ready to ask him to elaborate, but the door flying open and crashing against the opposite wall stopped her. She flinched at the noise but it made Isaac fall off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Once he saw his father standing in the doorway he scrambled up to his feet.
"Dad!" Isaac uttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You...you weren't supposed to be home yet."
Mr. Lahey grunted, his eyes swiveling over to Melanie who sat stock-still on the bed. "I can see that," he said calmly. "Isaac, why don't you introduce me to your friend here?"
"Uh. This is Melanie," he said, shuffling sideways. He kicked backwards and pushed her forgotten clothes beneath his bed. "She's…she's in my class."
Melanie leaned forward and waved at him. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," she said as cheerfully as she could muster. If her words could be seen in the air they would be stabbed to death by the daggers Mr. Lahey was shooting out of his eyes. She slowly lowered her hand and rubbed her lips together. Maybe it wasn't nice to meet him.
"What's going on here?" Mr. Lahey asked.
"She just…I-I found her walking around and…and she was wet—"
"Oh, I can see that," Mr. Lahey interrupted him, cutting Isaac off. Melanie felt a shiver roll down her spine with the way he glanced at her. "Look, I'm glad you helped someone in need. And I bet you're happy, this is the first time a girl's been in your room, so you should be proud about that." This time Melanie wasn't alone when she blushed, Isaac's cheeks turned a bright shade of red as well. Mr. Lahey grunted. "But I don't want to end up on some teen pregnancy show. That's not what happened here, right?"
"No, Dad, of course not," Isaac mumbled.
"Of course not," Mr. Lahey repeated. With a snort-like laugh he added, "You could only be so lucky." Isaac hung his head and Melanie scratched at her hair line for something to do to block herself from having to look at Mr. Lahey. Something about the way he was speaking and looking at them made her skin crawl and her muscles tense up. "Do you need a ride home?" Mr. Lahey asked.
"N-No sir," Melanie replied. "I have someone coming for me. In fact I think I'll just go wait outside for them." She bounced off the bed and onto her feet to squeeze past Mr. Lahey and out the door. Once she moved past him she felt as if she could breathe. It was amazing how one person could change the atmosphere in a room.
"Wait, Melanie, wait," Isaac called after her as she weaved through the house. He finally caught up to her on the front porch, which she regretted because she was now jumping around to keep her feet from having to touch the cold stone. "I'm sorry about him. About my dad. He's just—"
"Critical? Condescending? An ass? Insensitive?" she rattled off, still bouncing from foot to foot.
"Intense," Isaac offered up. "He, he means well…in his own way."
"Look, Isaac, it's fine," she said, waving her hand. "Parents are weird. You should meet mine." Headlights illuminated the front porch as Alicia pulled up in her Nissan sentra. "Anyway, thanks for taking me in. It was very sweet of you."
"I couldn't let you freeze to death."
"Well, you could have but you didn't so thanks." Waving to Alicia she added, "That's my ride. I'll bring you your clothes on Monday. They'll be washed." She hesitated and said, "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or something…give me a call. …Only not now 'cause I don't have a phone but when I get one and if you want to hang out or just chat or something then you can. Yeah, okay! I'm gonna go now! See you in school!"
Melanie jumped off the porch and ran down the concrete path to the driveway. She hopped into the passenger seat, thanking Alicia, and buckled up. As they backed out the driveway she waved to Isaac who still stood on the porch. He waved back and turned back towards his house as the drove down the street. Melanie's head tilted in curiosity as she caught the look in his blue eyes once the headlights swung over his body again.
He looked afraid.
# # #
"Let me see it," Erica said firmly as she tugged on the collar of the shirt that Melanie wore. After Alicia pulled up at her home Melanie had barged out of the car, into the house, and straight up to Erica's room to tell the whole story about what had happened. Erica sat, listening attentively as she ate from a carton of Ben and Jerry's Ice cream. But she put that aside as soon as she mentioned Jackson talking to her.
"It's not that bad, I swear," Melanie replied, leaning away from her and grabbing onto the fabric to pull the other way.
"If it's not that bad you'd let me see," Erica pointed out.
"Maybe I don't want you worrying over every little thing," Melanie shot back.
"Let. Me. See. It," Erica said while poking her in the cheek with each word.
"Okay, fine!" Begrudgingly, Melanie pulled the shirt down until the collar slipped past her shoulder so she could see the bruises left on her skin. She had to keep her facial expression under control so as not to alarm Erica. She didn't think it was that bad but looking at it, she underestimated Jackson's grip. She could almost see individual finger placements where he had grabbed her. A fire flared up in her belly and she curled her fingers into a fist.
"That asshat," Erica growled. "Mels, you can't keep letting him do that."
"Oh don't you worry! If he was embarrassed before that a girl got a shot past him he's gonna wish he never got out of bed on Monday," Melanie vowed, rubbing her arm. "Just…don't tell my mom. Or your mom. 'Cause then the principal will get involved and I don't want it to turn into this big thing."
"Your secret's safe with me," Erica replied. "But. The second I don't think you can handle it I'm breaking the promise. Fair warning."
"You wouldn't be my Erica if you didn't have my back," Melanie agreed, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "So what'd you do all night?"
Erica tilted her head forward so her hair hid her face but Melanie caught the smile in her voice, "Waited for you to come back."
Melanie reached behind her to grab a pillow and knocked Erica over the head with it. "Bonk!" she said, verbally adding in a sound effect. "Okay, okay, since you missed me so much I'll allow you to put on 13 Going on 30. But this will be the only time I watch it," she said, her voice getting louder with the last few words so she was heard over Erica's squeal of excitement as she grabbed her laptop off the floor.
Huffing but accepting her face, Melanie tucked the pillow beneath her arms and lay across the bed. She watched as Erica clicked around the on the screen to bring up the DVD player. Melanie absentmindedly rubbed her shoulder while she waited and then a thought occurred to her.
"Oh crap."
"What?" Erica hummed.
"Isaac has my bra."
Erica's fingers froze on the keyboard. The two girls looked at each other. Erica was the first to crack. Despite her lips pressing together the sound of a rolling snort-like laugh sounded in her throat. That got Melanie smiling and soon the two used each other to try and stay upright amidst their body-wracking laughter.
a/n - So we have a longer scene with Isaac and Melanie. I don't know about you but I already like them together. And Melanie made the team! Second line, but better than nothing! And once again Erica's and Melanie's relationship makes me squishy inside. Now things are starting to get interesting with Derek showing up. Thanks for reading! Please review!
**Revised 6/22/18**
