Chapter 13: Ruffled Feathers

It was a hard feat for Melanie to convince her parents to let her leave the house the next day to go visit Erica. With the school being closed for investigation and to clean up the mess, she thought it was a blessing in disguise. It would give her enough time to try and fix the rift in their relationship. She had a lot of time to think about it on her drive back home that night. She had come back to her home after the Alpha attack to be bombarded at the door by her angry parents. It was the last thing she expected because, for once, they weren't angry at each other, they were angry at her.

"You didn't come into work! We didn't know where you were! We had to hear from the police department that you were at school and were attacked?" Arabella had exploded once she checked Melanie over and was sure that no harm had come to her. Melanie could tell her anger was fueled by her fear that something had happened. The tears streaking down her face gave her away.

"What were you doing at school after hours?" Laurence had demanded to know.

"I, uh…forgot my lacrosse stick," Melanie explained, glad that she had the sport tool on her to give her an alibi. "Didn't want to leave it so Stiles and Scott came back with me. The, uh, the school's kinda creepy at night." She turned to leave the foyer, making a face at her lie as she tried to rush away.

"And the others? Jackson, Lydia, Allison? Why were they there?" Laurence had asked, temporarily making her freeze on the stairs at his question.

Melanie's eyes darted around. They paused briefly on the pictures of their family through the years on the walls before lowering to the lacrosse stick in her hand. "Jackson…forgot his too! They were hanging out when Jackson came by and, well, you know the rest. So, I'm just going to put my stuff away and then go see Erica."

"Oh no you're not," Arabella had said, stopping Melanie at the top of the stairs with her conviction. "You're going to stay right here."

Melanie gaped at her. "But Mom, she—"

"Melanie! You didn't show up at work! You broke into the school. You were attacked by a murderer! And you think we're going to let you leave the house?" Arabella climbed the stairs until she stood on the top landing and looked down on Melanie. "You're not going anywhere!"

"Mom! You can't be serious!" Melanie cried out, indignant. Arabella didn't respond. Instead she turned and started back down the stairs. Melanie leaned over the railing of the landing and looked to her father. "Dad?" she begged, "back me up here!"

"Don't bring your father into this, Melanie," Arabella said without turning around, her voice clipped.

"I'm with your mother on this one," Laurence replied, sighing. "You're staying here. Erica can see you tomorrow."

"But Dad—"

"We'll talk about this later."

The air in the Crowe house was thick with tension after that. Melanie understood their worries and concerns but they just didn't get how much the night made her realize that she needed to see Erica. That she needed her friend to listen to her and understand what had happened and how much she cares and for her and loves her and wants to be friends again. She needs to be friends again. The fact that she could have died that night without patching things up made her sick to her stomach. But her parents wouldn't budge, no matter how many teenage clichés she threw at them to try and guilt them into it. For once they were a united front. It was annoying.

The next morning she tried again to let them let her go. Which was hard being that she barely slept that night, waking up screaming every few hours due to having a recurring dream of the Alpha chasing her. She scraped at least four hours of collective sleep together but that didn't matter to her. She needed to see Erica. The school was closed so she had nowhere to be, yes she did her homework, yes she would go to her music lesson later, yes she would be home before night fell, and yes she would understand the consequences she would suffer if she didn't answer her phone when they called. By the time they finally relented and let her go she flew past them out the door and peeled out of her driveway. She was surprised that her tires didn't squeal and leave a rubber burn mark on the asphalt.

It didn't take long for her to reach Erica's house, her foot was almost glued to the gas pedal. All momentum she had come slamming to a stop once she jumped out of her truck and set foot in the Reyes driveway. Everything she had carefully planned to say to Erica fell out of her head and sounded stupid. Besides, what if Erica still didn't forgive her? What then? She just…moves on and forgets their seven years of friendship like that? She had other friends to fall back on but Erica had no one besides her mother.

She blew out a breath, pushed out all the negative thoughts that rooted her to the spot, and marched up to the front door of the Reyes home. Mrs. Reyes opened the front door before she even had a chance to knock.

"I was wondering when you would come again," she stated with a smile.

"My mom called you didn't she?" Melanie asked, already knowing the answer.

"As soon as you left, yes," Mrs. Reyes replied, stepping aside to let Melanie into their home. Melanie moved past her and was immediately enveloped by the warmth that could only be achieved by a warming stove. Taking pause, she noticed the scent of chocolate in the air and tried to hide a smile. Brownies were always made whenever she came over; surely Erica wouldn't turn her away now. Her sweet tooth was almost as big as Melanie's.

Mrs. Reyes ran a hand over her hair, which was pulled back into a bun, and then clasped her hands together. "She wanted to make sure I ushered you out in time for your music lesson. She said you had a rough night and thought that returning to your routine would help you out."

Melanie clicked her tongue. "Goes to show my mom's priorities are in strange places as usual," she commented.

"She just wants to be sure she knows where you are," Mrs. Reyes replied, reaching out to smooth down Melanie's hair.

Melanie regarded her. "You know," she stated.

"Yeah, I do. Arabella called me last night after you went to sleep. I'm glad to hear that you're okay. You and the others." Mrs. Reyes sighed. "Something like this happening in Beacon Hills…? I thought everything would stop after the mountain lion was killed."

"Yeah, you and everyone else," Melanie agreed, tearing her eyes away. After knowing everything that was going on the mountain lion excuse was feeble at best. Surely people couldn't still believe that Derek Hale alone was able to kill that many people, werewolf or not. He was one, yes, but he wasn't an Alpha. He didn't have enough power to cause deaths so gruesome. Not that that mattered now, not with Scott putting a warrant on him. She needed to talk to him about that. "But maybe now it's all stopped. Look, I'm alive and so are the rest of us. We're fine. But…me and Eri aren't and I came here to fix that."

Mrs. Reyes nodded her head. A wistful smile appeared on her face. "You really care about her, don't you?" she asked.

Melanie blinked. What kind of question was that? Mrs. Reyes knew just how much she cared about her best friend, and then some. But she still found herself answering the question. "Yeah, I do. She's my best friend. I love her to death. I can't even begin to imagine not having her around. The last few days have been Hell. I never wanted to hurt her."

"Yes, I know. And deep down I think she knows as well," Mrs. Reyes said, a pink flush appearing on her round cheeks. "Between you and me I missed having you around. This house hasn't been silent since you and your family moved into town and it's a bit unsettling. Here, take some brownies and bring them up to her. I'll come up with some milk for you."

"Thanks Mrs. Reyes." Melanie followed her into the kitchen and took a large whiff of the baking treats. Mrs. Reyes put on a slightly worn oven mitt and pulled out the brownie tray. She set it atop of the stove and removed the divider that was placed in them which cut them into nine equal sized portions. Then she set four on a plate and ushered Melanie out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Once outside the door she gathered her wits and knocked on the door. "Erica, it's me," Melanie called out.

"Mel, go away!" Erica yelled back almost immediately.

"Eri, come on. You're seriously going to turn me away after the night I had?" She hadn't meant to play the guilt card but the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"You forgot your lacrosse stick at school. If you ask me you—"

"Deserve it?" Melanie cut her off. If that's what Erica was going to say she would rather be the one to say it that deal with the pain of it coming from Erica's mouth. "I deserved to be trapped in a school with a psycho that tried to kill us all because you're mad at me? Really, Eri? Really?" Erica didn't respond. "So you're perfectly fine with the idea of me having potentially died last night all because you're pissed at me? You'd be able to sleep soundly?" Melanie paused, waiting to hear something, anything, but she still got silence in respond. "Okay, fine. I'll leave you alone then. And I'll get a bellyache from eating all your brownies and I'll be happy about it, Erica. And if I puke I'm going to throw up on the carpet out here to go with that other puke stain in your basement when I ate too much of your birthday cake when we were eleven even though I didn't like it but I wanted to be polite."

She held her breath. Still nothing. Dejected, her shoulders slumped and she turned to walk away. She didn't get too far since the doorknob turned and Erica appeared at the door. Her hair was dry and unkempt, bags sat beneath her eyes, her skin was dotted with acne here and there, and baggy sweats hung off her frame.

"You're threatening to puke on my carpet?" she demanded.

"It's better than my Plan B," Melanie admitted.

"What was Plan B?"

"Piss on it."

Erica's lips twitched ever so slightly in the corner. Melanie caught it despite Erica's best efforts in hiding it after hearing her answer. Melanie lifted up the plate and wiggled it around in an attempt to entice her. "So, am I allowed in? Brownies shouldn't be eaten alone," she said and bit down on her lip. Erica didn't reply but she moved out of the way of the door, dropping down on her bed. Melanie slipped into the room and closed the door behind her with her foot. She set the plate of brownies down on the bed and sat down on the edge. "Erica, you have everything all wrong—"

"I know," Erica interrupted her, making Melanie splutter before cutting off the end of her sentence. "I'm not mad at you about that. Not anymore." She pushed her hand through her hair but it didn't move. She dropped her hand back into her lap. "I hadn't really been that mad about it, actually. I knew you wouldn't go after someone I liked."

"So how come you haven't been talking to me? And how come you didn't come to school?" Melanie demanded, shifting further up the bed after kicking off her shoes. She crossed her legs and rested her elbows on her knees.

Erica blew out a breath. It ruffled her bangs a little but otherwise left them untouched. "You didn't do anything," she said, "I was just…jealous, I guess." Melanie blinked, a million questions flashing through her eyes and Erica stopped her before she could ask anything. "I was jealous of how…easy it is for you to be friends with people and how everyone likes you and how close you've gotten to people." She stopped and brought the sleeve of her sweats up to her eye, dabbing at the tears that had begun to collect on the rim.

Melanie grasped her hand between both of hers before Erica could set it back down. She rubbed it between her palms, noticing how bony her hand felt between the fabric surrounding it. "Eri, did you think I was replacing you?" she asked quietly. Erica sniffed and turned her head away, her hair curtaining around her face, blocking it off. Melanie raised Erica's hand to her mouth and gave it a kiss. "Oh, Eri, I could never replace you! You're my best friend! We've been through so much; I'm not just going to toss you aside for someone else."

"It's just…it kinda felt like it…"

Melanie huffed and dropped Erica's hands only to reach out, grasp Erica's chin, and turn her head until they were looking each other in the eye. "Listen," she said, her voice stern, "I love you, Erica. You're my best friend in the entire world. I like meeting new people and making new friends but the thing is that I try. I try to befriend new people. I try to get to know new people. You don't try. I'm sorry to say but it's the truth, you don't try. You hold yourself back from letting others see the amazing Erica that I know you can be. And that…that frustrates me so much because you're awesome! You're super nice, you're witty, you're caring, you're smart, you're beautiful. And I've told you all this for years but the problem is that you don't believe that and you're stopping yourself from being the Erica you want others to like. You can't keep blaming your epilepsy or your medication. It hasn't taken away the ability for you to just say 'hi' to others, has it? No. That's a choice that you make on your own. And I don't want to be punished for spending time with my other friends because you're afraid to put yourself out there. Okay?"

"Okay," Erica replied, nodding her head in such a manner Melanie was surprised that it didn't bobble right off her neck and land in her lap. "I get it. Just…can we be friends again? Please?" There was a sense of urgency and desperation in her voice that struck Melanie right in the chest.

Melanie leaned back on her hands. "I don't know about you, but I never stopped considering you my friend," she replied with an earnest smile. Erica leaned forward and pulled Melanie into a bone-crushing hug. She laughed and hugged her friend back, squeezing as hard as she could. There was no better feeling in the world than hugging your best friend, after all. "Now, do you want a brownie? 'Cause I can't promise that I won't eat all these by myself," she said, holding up the plate.

Erica's eyes swept over them and then she shook her head. "No, my mom made them for you, you have them," she said and leaned back against the pillows, drawing her knees up to her chest.

Melanie's eyebrows furrowed. "Er, brownies are your favorite dessert. Are you sure you don't want any?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Tell me about what happened. Mom said something about being stuck in a school with a murder?"

Melanie nodded, chewed up the bit of brownie in her mouth, swallowed, and launched into the story. Well, the story that she, Scott, and Stiles agreed to be told: that she had forgotten her lacrosse stick and recruited them to go back with her because there's safety in numbers and everything. They had gotten locked in and tried to find the janitor when they were chased by Derek Hale. They wound up meeting up with Allison, Jackson, and Lydia who had come back for Jackson's lacrosse stick and for Allison to find Scott when they came across Derek again. They locked themselves in a classroom and Scott went to find a way out when the police finally showed up to help them out. Erica listened with wide eyes, enraptured by her story. By the time she finished Erica began beating her with her pillow for being so "stupid" as to put herself in danger all for a lacrosse stick.

"Well I'm fine, obviously, so you can stop punishing me!" Melanie called out from under the attack. Erica finally stopped and when Melanie sat up straight, her hair was mussed and stuck out over her head. She ran her fingers through it to fix it. "So, anyway, after all that happened Allison and Scott broke up. Or are taking a break or something."

"Like Friends taking a break or actually taking a break?" Erica asked.

"I think actually taking a break. Allison said they 'broke up' but let's be real here, they're too into each other for them to actually break up."

"Why'd they break up?"

"Allison said she couldn't trust him; that he'd been lying to her all night and keeping her in the dark. But, c'mon, that's Scott. He'd rather lie to someone to keep them happy than to have to carry the weight of making them unhappy on his shoulders. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"Yeah, well, they did kind of rush things. They've only known each other, what, a little more than a month?"

"Yeah. Anyway!" Melanie got comfortable on the bed. "With school closed today and tomorrow I know some kids will be happy about it—"

"Ecstatic, even," Erica added.

"—but when we get back to school I know people will be bummed and not just 'cause we have to go back to doing school work and stuff and also because we had a murder in the school. So, since Valentine's Day is two days after we get back I was thinking of asking the principal to partner up with my mom's shop so we can send out flower grams to people. Something to cheer everyone up."

"I like that idea," Erica said, nodding. "But it is only two days."

"Yeah, but that'll be enough. I'll e-mail the principal today and then the Student Life Committee can send out a blast e-mail with prices and stuff. It'll drum up enough interest, trust me."

"What are you going to do with the proceeds?"

"I don't know, maybe split it? Half goes to Mom and half goes to the school. The music program could do with some money." Rolling backwards off the bed, Melanie moved over to Erica's desk, grabbed a pen and a piece of stationary, and climbed back onto the bed. "Help me brainstorm. I want to get a few options down before my lesson."

# # #

Melanie's fingers flew up and down the row of black and white keys, which were cool to the touch. The notes came out in rapid succession, wrapping around her in a cocoon that took her through the somber tones and light harmonies of the song. A smattering of trills and arpeggios punctuated the song amidst the tick, tick, ticking metronome that sat atop of the piano, keeping her in time. Her eyes glanced up from the keys briefly to check where she was in the song and then went back down to make sure her finger placement was right. She barely nodded her head but the motion was caught by her instructor who leaned over and turned the page for her.

The song came to a close. The somber notes slowly transformed over to the higher notes, washing away the deep resonating tones and replaced it with a light, airy cadence that resonated at the end of the song. Melanie let the collection of notes hold out before slowly releasing the sustaining pedal. The music faded into the still air of the practice room, slowly unraveling the cocoon around her and brought her back to the present, like a fog being lifted in her mind. The tick, tick, tick, of the metronome continued on.

"There were a few stumbles here and there but I can definitely hear some improvement," Mr. Abbott, the instructor, said as he clasped his together.

"Yeah, I got finger tied on some of the arpeggios," Melanie agreed.

"And that can be fixed over time," he said while reaching forward and closed the book that they had been working on. "For the end of the lesson we will be playing a duet, just to cool you down. Watch your hand positions; I notice that sometimes you shake your hands out after playing a few songs."

"Yeah, because they get cold," Melanie replied, holding her hands up and flexed her fingers. "Like, when I come in they start out warm but after a few songs they get cold but then they get warm again."

"That's because of the way you're holding your hands," Mr. Abbott replied, pulling a book out of the bag on the floor next to them. "If you hold your hands in a position for too long, in a wrong position, it limits the blood flow to your fingers which makes your hands appear cold. If you hold them in the right position throughout the pieces then you won't have to worry about that in the end. This is also why we talk about proper posture."

Melanie made a face. "Holding perfect posture is so annoying," she muttered. "Making sure my back is straight and my arms are straight and blah blah blah!"

Mr. Abbott chuckled and opened the book, setting it up on the built-in ledge. "Now you know good posture will only help you improve your skills in the long run," he pointed out. "And it helps your body over all. Much like how they tell you that sitting up straighter at school or work benefits you in the long run, it can help you here. You'll pull your shoulders back and keep your head up higher and stand taller and appear to have more confidence in your stance." He paused and then added with a twinkle in his eye, "It may also add some height to your frame."

Melanie laughed and shook her head. "You did not just go there! You and I both know I'm stuck at this height, or lack thereof, for the rest of my life."

"You never know. Proper posture could add a couple more inches."

"Then I can finally realize my dream of being let on my favorite roller coaster ride at DisneyWolrd," Melanie quipped. She straightened herself on her seat. "Okay, what are we playing?"

"Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol," Mr. Abbott replied. The skin around his eyes wrinkled as he smiled. "You kids are into this kind of music, yeah?"

"Oh yes, sometimes we kids like to take a break from our hippity-hop music to listen to some slow jams," she agreed, straightening her posture on the bench. She waited for him to reset the metronome, setting the pace for the song. She already had the melody playing in her head as soon as she heard the name of the song they'd be playing. It was one of her favorites, in fact. The song was simple in its structure but the lyrics were heavy and carried a weight that stuck with her long after the last strains of the piano ended.

She flexed her fingers and rested them on the keys. She counted off the beat and then began playing the opening notes in succession. Mr. Abbott joined in when they hit the first chorus, meshing the chords together.

It didn't take long for her to get into the groove, get lost in the simple melodies of the song. She found herself leaning and rocking as she played along, closing her eyes to get fully immerse herself into the music.

"I don't quite know…how to say…how I feel…" Melanie sang along, matching the tone as well as her voice would handle. It wasn't hard but she wasn't going to pretend that singing a song in a register for a man when she had a lighter voice was going to come to her right on the nose. She adjusted where she needed to and felt the words as she sang along. "Those three words…are said too much…they're not enough…"

A smile blossomed on her face once they reached the chorus, hearing the notes get punched up as the song moved further along. That was her favorite part of the song, hearing everything come together and become so amped up that you couldn't help but feel good as you sang along and wondered about that companion being with you. "If I lay here, if I just lay here would you lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we're told, before we get too old; show me a garden that's bursting into life."

They played straight through the rest of the song, Melanie singing along the entire time. She was just feeling the song, as she always did with music. She felt the emotions and the ideas that were carefully constructed and crafted to form the song. It was a good escape, taking her mind away from the haunting experiences of the night before and the supernatural world that she had experienced as a whole to that point. It took her to another place, a peaceful state of mind where she could let everything go and just be.

It always made her sad when the music had to come to an end.

She carefully removed her hands from the piano keys and dropped them into her lap, taking her time to come back to the present. She opened her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering, and glanced over at her instructor to see if he had any sort of critique only to notice him staring at her, a faraway look in his eye. "Mr. Abbott?" she called out, waving a hand in his face. "Yoo hoo! Anyone home?"

Mr. Abbot blinked, coming back to the present as if he were in a trance, and then smiled. "You did a beautiful job," he replied. "A few places were a bit rushed but you got your bearings. But you could tell that you were feeling the song and that's what's important. If you feel it then everyone else will too, regardless of the mistakes you make." He paused. "You have a gift, Melanie. You can do a lot with your voice; singing is just one of them. I want you to remember that, you're not limited with the voice you have."

# # #

The warm blanket of steam and hot water wrapped around Melanie as she stood beneath the shower head later that night, letting the warm water trickle down over her head and shoulders. Gooseflesh rose up on her arms once the warm water touched her cold skin and it made her breath out in satisfaction and relief. Her stresses and worries of the day slipped off her shoulders and slid down the drain with the soap that covered her body.

Once her front was clean she turned around and lifted her hair to get her back, only to hiss at the burst of pain that exploded along her back. She stumbled forward, arching her back to keep it away from the water as the sting throbbed beneath the surface of her skin.

"What the…?" she muttered, bringing her wet hair over her shoulder. She brushed the dripping water off her face and did her best to turn and see what it was that caused pain on her back. Did she get a bruise from the night before? Did she get scratched without noticing? Or worse, bitten? Her heart skipped a beat. Did she get bitten? But then a moment later her mind calmed down. No, that wasn't possible. She would notice if an alpha werewolf had bitten her, especially on the back, and she couldn't even imagine that Scott would be that kinky to do something like that.

Turning back around, she leaned forward to turn off the water only to expose her back and feel the pain once more. Gritting her teeth, she managed to twist the knob, successfully shutting off the water. Sticking her arm past the curtain, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, squeezing her eyes shut at the feeling of the towel rubbing against her back.

She jumped out and, leaving wet footprints on the tiles, she wiped off as much condensation on the mirror as she could. Once she could see her reflection with little trouble, she turned and lowered her towel only for her eyes to bug out at the sight.

Two red, inflamed scratches lay on her pale kin, right between her shoulder blades. She reached around and poked at it, cringing at the pain that shot through her. "What in the world…?" she muttered, staring hard at it. How did that happen? There was no way that could have come out of her sleep. She had started to turn away when something caught her eye. Something was sticking out of one of the scratches.

Contorting herself, Melanie managed to grab a hold of it. It was hard and had a point on the end. Her eyebrows furrowed. She grasped it and pulled, only to scream at the pain that exploded and nearly made her fall to her knees.

"Melanie? Melanie, sweetie, are you alright?" Arabella yelled through the bathroom door only a moment later.

"Yeah! I just, ah…the floor's cold," Melanie yelled back, cringing. Seriously, that was the best her mind could come up with? She was lucky that her parents didn't seem to follow up on her lies rather than chose to follow up on how weird she appeared to be.

"Bring slippers in next time," Arabella replied. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

"Okay!"

Melanie waited to hear the sound of her mother's footsteps to fade away before she stood upright. Grabbing a dry washcloth she twisted it up and stuck it in her mouth, holding it between her teeth. Reaching around, she grabbed at the object sticking out of her back again, gritted her teeth, and pulled. A scream lodged at the back of her throat as she steadily pulled the object out, breathing heavily through her nose to try and combat the pain. Little by little it slid out, covered in blood. A few drops landed on the bright white floor and by the time it slid free she was on her knees, gasping for air.

Her body began to tremble as she got acclimated to the quickly dropping temperature. Holding the towel closer to her body, she slowly lifted her arm to see what it was that was in her hand. Her breathing came out shaky when she was finally able to decipher what it was around the blood.

A feather.


a/n - Well? What did you think? Erica and Mel are friends again! Yay! I can't wait for you guys to see what I have planned for Valentine's Day. It's going to be big! And Mel found a feather. From her back. Cool, huh? Things are certainly getting stranger around Beacon Hills aren't they? Please read and review!