Chapter 7: Strange Bedfellows
The game winning high carried Melanie through the weekend despite the fact that she didn't set foot on the field. That they were able to score a come-from-behind win made her even more excited to be a part of the team. So what if she still got messages through Facebook about the photos? They didn't bother her. If anything it bothered the Crowe family supply of ice cream more than it bothered her. Good thing she was still phoneless otherwise her hidden candy stash would have taken a bad hit.
After the game she had a sleepover with Erica (which she had to fight hard to get because of the new curfew due the dead body being moved) and they spent the night recounting every second of the game. Well, Melanie spent the night talking about it. Erica pretended to be interested for Melanie's sake. She knew next to nothing about the rules, what hits were allowed, why sticks were longer than others, let alone the simple rules of the game but she wasn't one to damper Melanie's excitement about the sport. She didn't want to take away the sparkle in her eye or the passion in her voice.
But that soon switched over to the topic of Scott and how weird he was acting, at least by Melanie's standards'. She tried to analyze how he had suddenly became stronger than he was before, faster than he was before, had better aim, better reflexes, and didn't seem to need his inhaler any longer. But Erica wouldn't have it. She shut Melanie up by smacking her with a pillow which started a large pillow fight ending in them collapsed on her bed. It wasn't long before the two girls slipped into a heavy sleep brought on by the excitement of the week.
It was only broken by Alicia waking them up due to Melanie's mother calling her and asking for her to come into the flower shop to help out. Melanie woke up and practically flew out of bed, running around to gather up her things to get to work. Mrs. Reyes wouldn't have her leaving without breakfast so she wolfed down some eggs, hash browns, bacon, and orange juice, bid Erica goodbye, and ran out the door.
She drove to work as fast as the speed limit would allow, yawning all the way. She was surprised she didn't get into a wreck. Getting a sleep-deprived teen to drive to work wasn't a good idea. She made a mental note to talk to her mother about that. After all, she wouldn't want to lose her only child would she? Melanie didn't think so.
She swung her red truck into the parking lot and took a space close to the entrance. Grabbing a snickers bar from the glove compartment, she left the truck and the door shut with her hip. Jabbing the remote to lock the door behind her she rushed inside and ducked behind the counter.
"You're late," Arabella noted as she came out of the backroom. Melanie didn't miss the disapproval in her voice.
"I know, I'm sorry," Melanie replied, holding the now unwrapped candy bar between her teeth as she tied the strings of her apron behind her. "But if you want to blame anyone, blame Miss Alicia. She wouldn't let me leave until I ate breakfast. What a horrible human being, right? Making sure I ate breakfast instead of being to work on time. Tsk tsk."
Arabella's eyes rolled over to her as she tried to fight a smile. "Don't be such a smartass," she muttered, grabbing a pair of scissors off of the counter. "Look, I have a few arrangements I need to finish in the back that I need you to deliver later, okay? Stay up here and handle anyone that comes in. if you need help with anything holler for me."
"Mom, I've been helping out since I was twelve. I think I know what I'm doing," Melanie replied, chomping into her candy. Moving it to the side of her mouth with her tongue she asked, "Hey, can I borrow the computer?"
"Did you forget what the definition of 'work' was?" she asked, her hand resting on the door of the backroom.
"It's…homework," Melanie replied. "Do you want me to fail?"
Arabella looked as if she were about to argue. She brushed her hair off her shoulder and said sternly, "You get to work the second someone comes in, understand?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Melanie muttered, waving her away. The door to the back room swung shut. She minimized the window for the program they used to organize flower orders and brought up an internet browser.
She went to a search engine and typed in 'superhumans'. She hummed as she waited for it to spit out links. Her eyes scanned over a definition, which she already knew, before jumping down a little further. She tapped her fingers against her chin as she read about genetic modification, cybernetic implants, nanotechnology, and other procedures that she was sure that Scott hadn't gotten over the course of one break.
She ran across an article about a few naturally superhuman people—such as someone impervious to temperatures or a blind man that used echolocation—but nothing about increased strength or any of the other abilities Scott possessed. She hit the back button and continued looking down the page.
The bell attached to the door frame jingled as the door slipped by. Pulling a face, Melanie minimized the screen she had been looking at and stood up straight as a woman with wavy brown hair approached. She hooked her bag higher on her shoulder and flashed a smile as she approached.
"Hi. Welcome to Flowerworks. How may I help you?" Melanie greeted with as much enthusiasm as she could muster despite her eyes widening. She hoped she the guest couldn't tell that she wasn't actually doing her job.
"Hi, I have just had a question to ask. It may be a bit strange," the lady said as her eyes moved around the shop, taking in the bright florals surrounding her.
"Trust me, I've heard a lot of strange questions around here," Melanie said with a wave of her hand. "From how edible they are to some, ahem, questionable content that we put in the notes. Nothing fazes me."
"Okay then," the lady said with a challenging look in her eye as she rested her palm against the glass counter. "Do you happen to carry…aconitum?" Melanie blinked once. Twice. Three times. The lady stared back at her, waiting for a response as Melanie's mind jogged to catch up to the question. Okay, maybe something could faze her. "Aconitum is—" the woman started.
"I know what it is," Melanie jumped in. "It goes by monkshood or blue rocket or devil's helmet. But it's mostly known as wolfsbane," she rattled off as if she were listing the ingredients in a Big Mac.
"Smart girl," the lady said with a smile. "You're into flowers then?"
"Well, I don't work at a flower shop 'cause it makes me smell good," Melanie replied. The lady laughed. "Anyway, I'm sorry, we don't sell wolfsbane."
"Are you sure?" the lady asked.
"Kinda?" Melanie replied, her eyebrows lowering. "It's against regulations to sell wolfsbae. Hell, you'd be crazy to go near it. It's super poisonous to humans. The toxins can soak through skin easily. If consumed it kills within six hours. I mean, the symptoms are horrible: vomiting, diarrhea, burning, tingling, numbness of the mouth and face, burning of the abs—and in severe cases—motor weakness. Not to mention heart, lung, and organ failure." She gave a humorless laugh. "Talk about a draaaaag."
"Yeah, that does sound like a drag," the lady said with a little laugh. "I did say it was a strange question."
"That you did, can't blame you for false advertising," Melanie agreed. "Can I interest you in something else? A rose arrangement perhaps? Sunflowers? Daisies? Buttercups?" Motioning the lady closer she said in a stage whisper, "Don't let the name fool you. They can't actually hold butter. I tried."
The lady laughed. "Thanks but I think I got everything I need," she replied. "Thanks anyway."
"Okay, bye," Melanie said while waving. "Weirdo," she muttered under her breath once the lady left.
She stepped over to the computer and maximized the internet window. Not finding any good results on the first page she clicked on the little number two at the bottom and moved onto the next page. She clicked the next page when nothing stood out and then the next and the next.
"Come on," she muttered, staring at the blinking cursor. She backspaced 'superhumans' and left the search box blank. She drummed her fingers against the counter as she thought. Maybe if she made her search more specific…. She typed in enhanced speed, enhanced strength, enhanced reflexes and put quotation marks around each entry to make sure the results came out with the words included. She clicked search and waited for the page to load.
The bell rang again and she jerked her head up only to relax when she saw who it was. "Are you stalking me, Isaac?" she asked as he approached the counter. "I'm beginning to see you around everywhere."
"Well, we go to the same school, are paired up for a project, and are on the lacrosse team together," he said counting on his fingers. "I'd say they're all coincidences."
"Damn," she muttered, "if you were following me I was hoping that you liked the view." His blinked rapidly and his mouth followed suit, opening and closing rapidly. "Joke. That was a joke, Isaac," she said and chuckled. "D'you have an order?" she asked, bringing up the software for the shop.
"Yeah, actually. It's, uh…" he paused and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, "gerbera vase arrangement."
"Hmmm…ah. Yeah, here it is," Melanie said as she located his order. "Gimmie a sec." Leaving the front she pushed her way into the back room. She moved past a rack full of flowers and turned the corner to see Arabella talking on the phone.
"Look, we'll continue this discussion later…bye," she said in a hushed whisper and hung up. "Yes, what is it?" she asked, shoving her phone into her pocket.
"Er…pickup for Lahey," Melanie replied.
"Ah, yes. It's right…here." Arabella picked up a nearby blue glass vase that held an arrangement of blue, white, pink, and orange flowers. "Here."
"Thanks." Melanie carefully accepted the vase. "Mom. Is, uh, is everything alright?"
"Yes, everything's fine sweetie," Arabella said, waving her hand. Her free hand rubbed against her forehead. "Please take that out front."
"Fine, okay." Pushing her back against the door, Melanie carried the arrangement up to the counter. Isaac stood up straight when she went to the computer and came up with the price. "That'll be $38.99." She held out her hand, waiting for him to drop the money into it. As he placed the money in her palm she noticed the now-healing scrapes on his knuckles and before she could stop herself she blurted out, "Isaac, how come your dad doesn't come to your games?" He froze, the question seemingly catching him off guard. She mentally hit herself. A question like that aimed at her would make her feel attacked, who knew how he felt. Leave it to her to stick her foot in her mouth. "I-I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that," she said.
"I-it's okay," he replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. "He – uh – he just gets busy. Working at the graveyard and everything."
"Oh, so he works the graveyard shift?" she asked. She smacked her palm against her forehead in the next second. "Stupid joke. Really bad joke. Sorry. I bet you get that all the time."
"Once or twice," he said modestly. He scooped the vase off the counter and cradled it in his arms. "So, uh, I guess I'll see you in school."
"Wait!" Melanie practically yelled. He visibly flinched at the sound. "Sorry. I was just gonna ask who the flowers are for."
He blinked and then his facial muscles relaxed to a smirk-like teasing smile. "Isn't there supposed to be some sort of confidentiality between buyer and seller?" he asked.
"Probably but I'm too nosy to follow that rule," she replied honestly.
He nodded and looked at the vase. "They're...they're for my mom."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh! Is she in town? Was she away? Or is she sick? I hope she's not sick. That'd suck. I mean, obviously, no one likes being sick. Come to think of it, I've never seen her before, I don't think. I mean, we'd all know if she worked the graveyard. S'not exactly a normal job, right?"
"She's dead," Isaac stated bluntly.
Melanie pressed her lips together and then let them go with a loud pop. "Well…you may want my autograph because I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the world who can talk with both feet in her mouth."
"It's an interesting sight."
"Yeah, I bet it is."
Isaac chuckled; his laugh was quiet in the otherwise still store. "So, school?"
"That magical place where we're forced to learn, yeah," Melanie said. "See you then. Maybe we can actually get more of our project done without being interrupted." She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but it seeped through.
He clicked his tongue as he backed towards the door. "Don't listen to 'em. Okay? It's just…a stupid story."
She sighed. "Yeah but your hard work wasn't trivialized in the aftermath," she pointed out. "Besides…the only thing I got out of it was a candy bar, apparently. I would hope that I'm worth more than that," she tried to joke.
He pressed his back against the door handle until it swung open. He paused, tapped his fingers against the glass vase in his hand and then said, "For the record, I think you are."
A smile slowly appeared on Melanie's face as his words sank in. "Thanks," she said.
"You're welcome."
He waved goodbye and she waved in return. Shaking her head, she stepped back to the computer and made sure she had processed the transaction correctly. Clicking away from the program, she raised the window she had been using to see what results she had gotten. Had she been drinking something at the moment she would have spat it out at the screen.
Every link that stared back at her had to do with werewolves.
# # #
"Something was attacked by the buses and we still have school? How does this make sense?" Erica groaned over the PA system's announcement the next morning. Monday's were always a drag but this was worse. They all saw the blood splattered on the back of the bus that morning and it was the topic of conversation in their homeroom classes. If the staff thought that any work was going to get done they were crazy.
"Its school, nothing ever makes sense," Melanie replied, leaning on the locker next to Erica's. She glanced around and licked her lips before lowering her voice. "Anyway, I have this theory—"
"Are you seriously still going on about Scott being a werewolf?" Erica sighed while yanking her history book out of her locker. The minute Melanie saw the computer results she used the work phone to call Erica and talked her ear off about anything and everything to come across the page. She was forced to hang up with her mother threatened to forbid her from playing on the team if she didn't go back to work.
"Come on! It makes sense! The speed. The strength. The agility."
"The fangs?" Erica cut in. Melanie glared. "Mels, come on. There are no such things as werewolves."
"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain Jackson's locker door?" Melanie asked, motioning to the dented metal across the hall.
"A prank," Erica replied, closing her own and secured it with her locker.
"The bus?"
"Prank," Erica replied, walking away. Melanie hurried to catch up. With Erica standing at 5'8" and Melanie only at 5'2" she had to increase her walking pace to fall into step.
"But Erica—"
"Remember you thought that Mr. Harris was a vampire?" Erica asked. Melanie twisted her mouth to the side. Of course she remembered. She spent the entire last year following him around between classes to see how he fared in the sun and if he avoided anything garlic-y. It was probably the reason he wasn't too fond of her. It didn't help that she just didn't get Chemistry.
"In my defense," Melanie said, holding up her finger, "no one else around here dresses that well and come on! He's so pale! He had to be a vampire!"
"Lydia does," Erica pointed out. Which, yes, Melanie figured; she'd spent a fair amount of time with Erica going over what fashion statement Lydia seemed to be going for on any given day. Still, she wasn't a teacher so that didn't count. "Well, he isn't and Scott's not a werewolf," Erica continued, stopping by a classroom. She divided half of the books in her hands and gave them to Melanie. "I'll see you at lunch, alright? And I want to talk about something else other than your theories." When Melanie opened her mouth she quickly added, "or lacrosse." Melanie pouted and Erica patted the top of her head before turning and walking off. Melanie made a face at her back and entered the classroom.
She dropped her books and backpack down on one of the empty black-topped desks and glanced forlornly at a beaker sitting in front of her. She wished Erica was in this class with her. While they were in the same level Chemistry class it was split into two sections and, unfortunately, they were split up. If only they were together. Erica could be taking notes for the both of them while she continued her werewolf research.
She was up the entire previous night pouring over everything she could find. It couldn't be a coincidence that Stiles asked for her book and was looking for werewolves specifically. It couldn't be a coincidence that twice in the past week Scott and Stiles disappeared from the lacrosse field in a hurry. And it couldn't be a coincidence that Scott freaked out at a party that Lydia held on the night of a full moon. The only thing that could properly joss her idea would be that Scott was actually that weird. But even she had to give him some credit.
Begrudgingly, she flipped open her notebook and tried to copy down the pictures that Mr. Harris was drawing on the board but she just couldn't figure out what they were for. There were some circles with plus signs in them and some circles that were blank and squiggles and lines and arrows. She wasn't sure if he was actually trying to teach or mess up her grade even more. As much as she tried to focus on what he was doing and saying she couldn't help but let her eyes travel over to Scott. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Pointy ears. Fangs. Some extra hair. But all she saw was the same ol' Scott McCall.
Her eyes then moved over to Stiles as she tapped her pen against her paper. He was in on it too, she was sure of it. Why else could he be so jumpy whenever she asked about him. For all he knew she was just being concerned. (Well, she was concerned, but he was being too weird about everything for her concern to not expand. It was his fault, really.) But did that mean he was a werewolf too or was he just helping Scott out?
She set down her pen and rubbed the side of her head. She was beginning to get a headache trying to figure it all out. Her lack of sleep definitely wasn't helping. She gave her head a shake and picked up her pen again. C'mon, Mel, concentrate. You have to pass this class! But how was anyone to concentrate when Thing 1 and Thing 2 were whispering so loudly? She sat up straight to hear them better and caught something about 'blood on the door', 'animal blood', 'rabbit', and 'remember'. Apparently that was enough for Mr. Harris to hear too for he turned around and commented on Stiles's lack of whispering.
"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?" Mr. Harris said, an eyebrow arching high.
"No," Stiles protested, as if that was the worst idea in the world.
Melanie snickered as Mr. Harris pointed at them and urged them to move and said, "Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." She pushed her books aside and lifted her backpack off the table as Stiles plopped down next to her.
"You two can't whisper for shit," Melanie whispered as Stiles got situated. "If you need a rabbit recipe my dad can get you something."
"Are you Crowes well versed in the consumption of game?" he asked.
"Yes, in fact, our preference is elk," she replied and stuck out her tongue.
Silence settled around the room but it didn't last long. One of the girls at the front shouted about people finding something and soon they were all crowding around the window to get a closer look. They watched as some EMTs wheeled someone out on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance in the parking lot.
"That's not a rabbit," Melanie heard Scott whisper as the body moved closer to the ambulance. She watched intently only to jump and scream with the rest of the class when the man on the stretcher popped up and screamed himself.
"This is good, this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that," Stiles rationed. Melanie peeked over her shoulder to see that he was directing his comment towards Scott rather than the rest of the room. She hummed.
# # #
"Do people realize they're wasting their own money to continue a stupid joke?" Melanie asked, pausing her shuffle down the cafeteria line to see yet another Hershey kiss on the floor. "Unfortunately they're aiding in making me fat…"
"You're preaching to the choir," Erica grumbled. She had been reaching out for a muffin but then changed her mind and grabbed an apple instead. She dropped it on her tray and moved down to the cash register, her tray covered in food.
"If you came running with me a few mornings—"
"I already told you, I'm not getting up at the butt-crack of dawn." Erica paid for her food and waited for Melanie to do the same. They stood near the end, looking for a place to sit, and spotted an empty circle table in the corner. They made a beeline for it and sat down before anyone else could take the spot. "I don't even know how you do it. You're evil in the mornings if you haven't eaten."
"I'm not that bad," Melanie grumbled.
"Mellie, I still have the mark on my back when you kicked me out of my bed," Erica said with a laugh.
"You were taking up too much space!" Melanie cried out, as if that made all the sense in the world. "Anyway, I was talking about—"
"Hey, I said no lacrosse or werewolf stuff," Erica interrupted her as she poked at the meat on her plate.
"No! Not that! It's about the guy that got slashed up," Melanie said, waving her hand. "People are saying it's a mountain lion that attacked him. Can you believe that? A mountain lion getting this far at school?"
"It's no wonder they have a curfew," Erica commented.
"A bit too strict of one, if you ask me," Melanie agreed, popping some curly fries into her mouth. She had started putting another in her mouth when a sight caught her. Tilting her head she peered across the cafeteria. "Hey Eri, turn around and tell me what you see."
Popping up an eyebrow, Erica turned around and her eyes scanned the crowded cafeteria. Then her head, too, tilted as she stared at a table that was occupied by Allison, Scott, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Stiles. She turned back around. "That's weird," she muttered. "Since when do Lydia and Jackson and Danny sit with them?"
"That's the same thing I was wondering," Melanie replied. "Even if it was just because of Allison, Jackson would rather chew off his arm than do anything with Scott."
"Yeah, but it's Lydia. She can convince someone to kill someone else if she wanted to." Melanie gave Erica a look. "Okay, I'm exaggerating, but you know what I mean."
"Somehow I don't think you are," Melanie replied, glancing at the table again to see Stiles staring intently at Lydia. Erica caught her look and looked again. When she turned back around she slumped in her seat and pushed her tray away. "Eri—"
"I should just give up, shouldn't I?" she asked. "Who'm I kidding, thinking he'd like me or notice me? He's so freakin' obsessed with Lydia, no one else exists."
"And that's his fault, not yours," Melanie said sternly, pushing Erica's tray closer to her. "It's his fault that he can't see how wonderfully amazing you are and is chasing after someone who's in love with someone else. One day he'll see just what he's missing and he's gonna regret it for the rest of his life."
Erica made a noncommittal grunt and still refused to touch her food. Melanie started to say something else when Erica suddenly sat up straight. Screwing up her face in confusion, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Tossing her head to one side to move her hair out of the way, she brought the phone up to her ear. "Hello?" she said, plugging in her other ear. "Oh, yeah, she's right here." She removed the phone from her ear and held it out to Melanie.
"Hello?" Melanie answered, confusion evident in her voice.
"Yes, is this Melanie Crowe?" a deep voice asked.
"This is she."
"Melanie, hi, this is Dr. Deaton. I've been trying to contact you but it seems there is something wrong with your phone?"
Melanie sat up straighter in her seat. "Oh, yeah! I'm sorry about that. I had a little mishap with a pool. I should be getting a new phone soon. Anyway, are you calling about the puppy?"
"Yes, I am. I just wanted to let you know that he is in good health and that no one has claimed the little guy. Enough time has gone by that you can come and claim him if you have—"
"Yes! Yes yes yes yes!" Melanie cheered into the phone before he could say anymore. "When can I pick him up?"
"This afternoon if that is enough time for you."
"Yes, that's perfect! Thanks so much! I'll be there!" Melanie hung up the phone and squealed in excitement. "The dog is mine!"
"Your mom and dad are just going to let you keep him?" Erica asked.
"They will once they see his little face," Melanie rationed.
As soon as school let out Melanie rushed to the Animal Clinic, quietly thanking that they didn't have lacrosse practice that afternoon due to Coach having a prior commitment. Something about a whistle emergency. She didn't care; once lunch ended her mind became attached to getting the puppy as soon as possible.
She pulled into the parking lot and jammed on the brakes. She put the car in park, activated the emergency break, and jumped out of the truck. If the sleeve of her jean jacket hadn't gotten caught on the door she would have forgotten to close the door in her haste to get inside.
"Dr. Deaton! I'm here, I'm here. I'm ready for my puppy!" Melanie said breathlessly as she burst inside.
"I can see that," Dr. Deaton said with a little laugh. "He's over here," he continued, motioning her to a table that the little dog was sitting on. "He's had all of his shots needed and he's gained some weight so he's healthy enough to be taken home."
"Yay!" Melanie cheered, punching her fists into the air. "Ohh, I can't wait to take this little guy home," she cooed, scratching behind the puppy's ears. She looked up when she heard the bell rang and smiled when Scott came rushing in. "Scott! Scott! Guess what? I can take the puppy home!" she said excitedly, pointing to Nova as if he couldn't see the little dog. Nova's head turned to the side as he stared at Scott but then broke his gaze to turn and lick at his paw.
"Oh – that's great, Mel!" Scott said with a smile. "Have you thought of a name for him?"
"Hmm…" Melanie tapped her chin as she looked the puppy up and down. He tilted his head back and stared at her with his big brown eyes. "Nova!" she announced, snapping her fingers. "That's your name, isn't it Nova? Yes it is!" Standing straight, she turned to Scott to ask him a question but then noticed the stunned expression on his face. Whirling around she noticed a police officer standing at the door.
"Hey! I see somebody's ready to get their stitches out," Dr. Deaton said to the large german shepherd that ambled through the door. Melanie scooped Nova off of the table as his tail began to wag at the bigger version of himself.
"Hey there Scott, you stain' out of trouble?" Sheriff Stilinski greeted him as he removed his sunglasses.
"Yeah," Scott replied shortly.
"Hi Mr. Stilinski," Melanie greeted him. "Look at my new dog! His name's Nova! Say hi, Nova." Melanie lifted his paw and waved it at the sheriff.
"Hello, Melanie," he said with a chuckle. "Hello to you too, Nova."
"What happened with that one?" Melanie asked, nodding to the german shepherd on the table.
"Oh, he just needed some stitches to help heal a little bite, he'll be fine," Sheriff Stilinski replied. Then he turned his attention to Dr. Deaton. "Hey, while I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was telling you about? Sacramento can't determine an animal."
Backing away from the table and closer to Scott, Melanie exchanged a look with him. What kind of pictures could they be talking about?
"This was the guy who was attacked on the bus?" Dr. Deaton asked, causing both their eyes to widen.
"Yeah, and there were wolf hairs found on Laura Hale's body."
"A wolf?" Scott asked. When Sheriff Stilinski looked at him he continued, "Um, I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for sixty years."
"Wolves are highly migratory," Dr. Deaton replied, still looking at the pictures. "They could have wandered in from a bordering state." He lifted his eyes to Sheriff Stilinski and pointed at a picture of the attacked man's face. Melanie couldn't resist the urge to step closer and see. "See these scratches here? They're claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat."
"So, what do you think, it's a mountain lion?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.
"I don't know," Dr. Deaton replied. "A wolf could chase its prey. Hobbling it by tearing at the ankles…and then the throat."
# # #
"Welcome to your new home, little guy!" Melanie cheered as she shut her car off in her driveway. Nova looked up at her from the small bed he was sitting on in the passenger seat. On the floor sat his new leash, bowls, collar, and a bag of dog food. "Don't worry; Mom may seem to not like you but she'll fall in love with your face as I did."
She got out of the car and scooped Nova into her arms. Maybe if she walked in with just him they wouldn't be upset that she chose to keep the dog without asking them. No one could turn away that face! Taking a deep breath, she exited the truck and went up to her house, a white Victorian style with a smattering of French windows. The lights on inside cast a golden glow on her yard and she could see her mom and dad talking in the breakfast nook. Her fast moving steps slowed as she got close enough to read the expressions on their faces and then she stopped and sighed. Their faces appeared tense and tight. They had obviously been arguing about something or were in the middle of it.
"Well, this will stop all the fighting," she declared, kissing the top of Nova's head. She marched up the front stairs, stepped past the wraparound porch and walked into her home. She closed the door with her foot behind her and called out a greeting. The hushed whispers that floated from the nook stopped and were replaced by footsteps. "Surprise!" she cried out once her parents turned the corner. "This is Nova!"
"Melanie," Arabella said, stopping short. "Where did you get that?"
"Remember, I found him about a week and a half ago. Or was it two weeks?" she shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Anyway! No one claimed him so now he's ours! Isn't that great?"
"I've always wanted a dog," Laurence said, stepping forward to take the dog out of Melanie's arms.
"Sweetie, you have to take it back," Arabella said, clasping her hands together. "We don't have time for a dog."
"Yeah we do!" she protested. "Some days you don't go into work until late. And I can take care of him before school and dad can come home on his break and I can take care of him after lacrosse!" She stuck out her lower lip. "Please?"
"Melanie," Arabella sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We can't."
"C'mon, Bell," Laurence said, taking Nova out of Melanie's arms and held it up to his wife's face. "Look at him!" Nova stuck out his small tongue and licked her nose.
"We do not. Have time. For a dog," she said sternly, looking Laurence in the eye.
"You always said that I could take on more responsibilities around the house," Melanie jumped in. "And this is the biggest one. Please, Mom, please? I've always wanted a dog! Please!" She dropped to her knees and grabbed Arabella's arm. "I'm begging you!"
"Melanie, get off the floor," Arabella ordered, her lip twitching ever-so-slightly in the corner. Melanie jumped to her feet and tucked her hair behind her ear. "We'll talk about this later. For now, let's eat," she said. She shot Laurence a look and turned on her heel.
Once she disappeared around the corner Melanie and Laurence high-fived. "Don't worry; I'll work on her," he said.
"Hey, Dad, wait," Melanie said, grabbing his arm. "What were you two fighting about earlier? I saw you through the window."
"It's nothing, Hummingbird," he replied, kissing her forehead. "We just got into a little disagreement. Nothing to worry about." He set Nova down on the ground and he immediately started to sniff around the house. "Where's the rest of his stuff?"
"Stuff? What stuff? He has stuff?" Melanie asked with a nervous laugh.
Laurence gave her a look. "In the truck, right?"
"Right," Melanie conceded.
"Go help your mother with dinner; I'll get the rest of the supplies."
Melanie patted Nova on the head and went into the kitchen to help her mother carry dishes to the table. Arabella was muttering something under her breath but brushed Melanie off when she asked about it. She dropped the subject and carried silverware over to the table.
a/n - And here's the next chapter! It's a nice long one for you guys. What did you think? For the whispering part, in the show I understand they have to talk loud enough for the boom mics to pick up their "whispered conversations" but I always wondered how no one else overheard their conversations. Thus, I decided to poke fun at it. What do you think about the woman coming into the shop, who do you think it is? Also, to explain the chapter title, "strange bedfellows" is an idiom meaning two groups of people who normally wouldn't be seen together are connected by a certain activity. In this case, Lydia and Jackson sitting with Scott and Stiles. Thanks for the reviews and favs and alerts! Please leave a review.
**Revised 6/22/18**
