Chapter 18: Argency
Shafts of sunlight broke through the slightly parted curtains of Erica's room and hit the bed the two girls occupied. A few landed on the covers but one particularly harsh beam rested on Melanie's face and roused her from sleep. Not that the sunlight needed any help in that, she had been hovering between being awake and being a sleep for hours.
Flashes of the Alpha's red eyes popped up just when she thought that she would drift off to sleep. Each time a cold sweat would settle on her skin and the hair on her arms would stick up. She'd have to get out of bed to pace around to get back into a relaxed enough state to even try to entertain the idea of going back to sleep. Then the cycle would start all over again. She prayed that maybe, somehow, she had managed to sleep and wake straight through to the weekend but one glance at her phone told her otherwise.
It was only Thursday. Great.
She rubbed a hand across her face, swiping out the crud out from the corners of her eyes. A short succession of knocks sounded on the other side of the door before it popped open. Mrs. Reyes's eye appeared in the crack and then it swung open even wider.
"Morning," she said.
"Morning," Melanie rasped in response, sitting up all the way.
Mrs. Reyes stepped further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She brushed Melanie's bed-ruffled bangs off her forehead. "How are you?"
Melanie ducked out of her reach and shrugged. "I'm fine. Tired." She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it over to one side of her shoulder. She half-turned, glancing at Erica's still sleeping form over her shoulder. "How are you?" she asked, directing her gaze over to Mrs. Reyes.
"Tired," she replied. Melanie hummed, her eyebrows briefly jumping up. "Your father called this morning. Said he informed the school about what happened. He wants you to go to the hospital as soon as you're ready."
"Mmm…nah," Melanie replied, shaking her head. "I want to go to school." She bounced once on the edge of the bed to get to her feet. She crossed the room to Erica's dresser and pulled the top one out, grabbing a shirt. She held it up to her front to see how it looked on her. Her nose wrinkled, she shook her head, and then grabbed another. This one got her nod of approval and she draped it over her arm and went to the bedroom door, only stopping when Mrs. Reyes lightly grabbed her elbow.
"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Mrs. Reyes asked. Melanie shrugged again. Mrs. Reyes stood and clasped her hands together and sighed. "The school will understand. Erica can get your homework, you won't fall behind."
"It's Thursday. What's the point of missing when I only have two days left?" She moved to the bedroom door and opened it. "Besides, I need to be at practice for the big game tomorrow. It's the quarter finals. Stiles is playing first string, I have to cheer him on and be around in case they need me. Coach wouldn't be happy if I missed practice this close to an important game."
"Melanie—"
"I'll wake Erica if she's not up by the time I'm done."
"Melanie—"
Melanie sighed. "Mrs. Reyes, my mom is being held at the hospital. She's not going to get out anytime soon. She'll still be there when the week is over. So…there's not much of a rush for me to get there, is there?" Mrs. Reyes's eyes shifted downcast. "Didn't think so."
Once out in the hall, she pulled the door shut. It settled into the door frame with a soft click. Her entire body sagged as she let out a long breath, prompting her to briefly rest against the door behind her to keep herself up. She gripped the shirt in her hands a little tighter and pushed away from the wall, crossing the hall to the bathroom.
She welcomed the warm steam on her face once the water in the shower warmed up. She took the time to scroll through the messages on her phone from her father but she didn't open any of them. She flicked the list up and down with her thumb, reading the brief excerpt of each message before it was cut off by an ellipses. Tapping her thumb against the new text bubble, she waited for it to load and sent one out to her father:
Going to school. Be home later.
The text had barely been sent out when she got another one coming in. She glanced at the name only to jab and hold the power button on her phone to turn it off. The last thing she wanted to deal with were a bunch of condolence-filled texts that were half-hearted and obligatory more than they were actually sincere.
The shower was nice relief from the itchy, dried sweat that had settled on her skin and made her feel grimy. The steam and warm water wrapped her up like a cocoon; she didn't want to leave. Reality lived on the other side of the curtain. It was an ugly monster with sharp teeth, waiting for her to be vulnerable enough to snap and sink its teeth into her exposed nerves.
The lump in her throat bobbed as she swallowed and dragged her hands though her wet hair. Her eyelids burned as she squeezed them together. It was easy to blame that on the shower. The steam hurting her eyes could be explained for the redness that had settled in. Standing beneath the showerhead could be explained for the droplets falling down her cheeks. The heat in the room could be explained for her heaving chest and gasping for air between her sobs.
The lump in her throat finally broke through, sliding down into her depths. She took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. She had a school day to face; it couldn't be done with a weak lip. Stiffening it, she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself off and changed into her school clothes for the day. The drastic change in temperature on the other side of the bathroom door made goosebumps appear on her arm. Ignoring them, she descended the stairs and went into the kitchen where Mrs. Reyes stood over a hot pan where pancakes cooked on the surface. Melanie walked past her to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, and went back upstairs.
"Morning," she greeted Erica as she burst into the room. She chuckled at the groan from the Erica-shaped figure beneath the blankets. Melanie yanked open the curtains and then jumped onto the bed. "Come on. Up and at 'em. We got school to go to!"
"Mellie, don't you think we can take it down a few decibels?" Erica groaned, removing the blankets from her face. A second later she screamed and covered her eyes with her hands. "And turn down the sun, maybe?"
"Sorry, sunshine, can't do that," Melanie replied. In midjump she curled her legs in a sitting position and landed on the duvet. "Maybe this will teach you not to drink so much, huh?" She nudged Erica's elbow with the Gatorade bottle. "Whatever made you so upset, I'm sure the answer to dealing with it can't be found at the bottom of a bottle."
Erica sat up and brushed her hair out of her face. She then turned her pout to Melanie but took the Gatorade bottle. She unscrewed the cap, breaking the seal, and chugged the sweet sports drink until it was half empty. "God, I think someone's playing the bongos in my head."
"What song is it? We Will Rock You? That's a good one!" Melanie began slapping her knees and clapping her hands to mimic the beat of the song. "Buddy you're a boy make a big noise, playin' in the street gonna be a big man someday—"
"Stop!" Erica cried out. She shot out her hand and pressed it against Melanie's mouth, muffling the rest of the song. Her cheeks bloomed red and she removed her hand, dropping it into her lap. "You suck," she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I might, but the only person I'll ever suck around is you." Melanie reached out and tapped Erica's nose. "Now, you get dressed, take some painkillers, and come down for breakfast. Your mom's making pancakes." She rocked back and forth a few times until she used the momentum to lean forward to kiss Erica's cheek.
Erica backed away from her. She cleared her throat at the puzzled look on Melanie's face. "I just….bad breath," she explained, motioning around her mouth. "Wouldn't want to kill you."
"Death by bad breath. Hmmm." Melanie's eyebrow twitched. With a grunt, she rolled backwards off the bed and got to her feet, holding out her arms briefly to keep from falling over. On her way out the door she paused to look at the picture on the tableside dresser of herself, Erica, and their mothers a couple years ago at Disneyland. She pressed her lips together. "There are worse ways to go."
# # #
The steady tick tock tick tock of the clock on the wall above the secretary's head chimed in time with each and every second Melanie's nerves were rubbed. She huffed and shifted her position in the chair she had occupied since she set foot in the school that morning. It was one thing to have pitying looks sent her way by the students but it was another to have them sent her way by the secretary who was holding her against her will as they waited for the principal to be finished with whatever it was that had him occupied.
"I'm going to be late for first period," Melanie spoke up, her words dull and slightly slurred.
"Your teacher's already been notified of your absence," the secretary replied.
"Well that's all fine and good but I'm not absent. I'm here. And I just want to go to class but you're not letting me. Is that even possible? Keeping students from going to class when they want to be there? Isn't that against some sort of code? Some unspeakable teacher's code? 'Thou shalt not impede on students' learning'?"
The secretary paused her typing and looked up at her, effectively stopping Melanie's rambling. The secretary lips pressed into a line, whitening until she let the pressure go. She clasped her hands together and twiddled her thumbs. "Are you done?" she asked. "Or, if you'd like to continue to fill the silence, be my guest. Anything to distract you from the…events that just transpired for you." Melanie's eyebrows twitched, one lowering slightly than the other but she didn't speak. "You're not the only one who's gone through this sort of pain. Unfortunately you won't be the last either. I won't comment on how you choose to cope but…sometimes silence helps."
The principal's door opened with an elongated creak; it reminded Melanie of the nose her grandmother's knees made whenever she stood from her rocking chair. She sat up straighter and looked up as the principal approached, his arms pulled behind his back.
"You know you don't have to be here," he stated. "Your father called in and we have granted permission for your absence."
"I get that but I don't want to be absent," Melanie replied. "All I'd be doing is sit around and listen to machines beeping all day and mess with the bed pans and eat crap food that's rivals the cafeteria—no offense."
"Ms. Crowe—"
"I don't understand why people don't get that I want to be here. I don't want to be at a hospital. I don't…I don't want to sit around and stare at my mom. I want to be here." She jabbed the armrest of her chair with her finger.
The principal nodded his head once. "Okay," he said. "But if you need anything…or want to talk…Ms. Morrell has offered up her services. I'm sure you two will find that you have a few things in common."
"Ah, yeah, we wear that French-Canadian badge with pride. You know, the only way we figure out if someone belongs to the club is if they respond to moose mating noises. But ssssh! Don't let anyone else in on that secret." She stood and lifted her bag over her shoulder. She took one step only to pause and rock back and forth on her heels. "Thanks," she muttered and left the office.
"You okay?" Erica asked from the floor. She got to her feet and brushed her hands against the seat of her pants. Her bag hung off her shoulder, pulling against the neck of her large sweater to reveal a shoulder. Some of her messy hair had fallen out of her ponytail.
"Yeah, I'm good," Melanie replied, looping her arm with Erica's as they walked down the hall. "Though I did forget to do History homework so could I copy yours before class?"
"Sure," Erica replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "Too much Valentine's festivities?"
"I'd ask you that same question but I already know the answer to it, Dragonbreath," Melanie replied. Erica's cheeks flushed pink. "No, I just hung out with Allison and Lydia. Well, more Allison than Lydia. Lydia spent more time flip-flopping over whether or not Jackson is a jerk or not for not getting her flowers—the jury's still out, apparently—so Allison and I just went through her closet."
"Oh, I bet it's like a dream," Erica sighed.
"She has killer shoes. The girl has taste, can't deny that. In shoes, anyway. Not so much boyfriends. Jackson is a slimeball."
"And yet, somehow, I can still live with myself," Jackson commented. Melanie wheeled herself and Erica around to see Jackson leaning against a set of lockers behind them. Her eyebrows furrowed. He looked much healthier than he had in ages. His skin wasn't sallow, he wasn't sweaty profusely, and his eyes weren't sunken or rimmed with dark circles. He had his old swagger back if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.
"Some life to live," she countered. "Didn't you have a doctor's appointment this morning? How'd it go?"
"Fine, Mom," Jackson replied, rolling his eyes.
"Forgive me for checking if my teammate is fit to play in the most important game tomorrow is overstepping my boundaries."
"You don't step over boundaries, you jump over them," he countered, briefly pressing more weight against the lockers to stand up straight.
"Did you need something?"
"Yeah. Your mom owns that flower shop. I assume that means she actually knows something about flowers." Melanie grunted. She could feel Erica tense by her side. Melanie grasped Erica's inner forearm and gave it a squeeze. Whatever Jackson wanted she could handle it, putdowns and all. "I also assume you know something, as surprising as that is, and considering your mother put herself in a hospital—"
"Is there a point to this?" Melanie cut him off, her voice sharp. Her mouth twisted to the side almost immediately and she glanced over at Erica to see her staring at her. "I have to get to class," she added, her voice softer than it was before.
"Do you know anything about a flower called Aconite?" He asked.
She blinked. "Yes and no. There's no flower just called 'aconite'. There is Aconitum though. And beneath that there are a few different species of that genus. It's pretty poisonous. And by pretty I mean very. You can die from just touching it in some cases. Don't even think about ingesting it. Even animals know to stay away from that stuff, and that's telling you something."
Jackson's face slowly shifted, his eyebrows drooping and his muscles contracting as if his face were melting. Finally he held up his hand, gave his head a little shake and huffed. "Geeze, Crowe, I didn't need a dictionary regurgitation." Her eyes turned to the ceiling, as if silently asking anyone above why they were testing her. "Are there any other names for that flower?"
"A couple. Monkshood, Devil's helmet, Queen of all Poisons, Blue Rocket, Women's bane, Mouse bane, Leopard's bane, or, more commonly—"
"Wolfsbane," Jackson filled in for her.
"Yep." She nodded. "But if you get anywhere near it, I suggest you run away from it. The affects of wolfsbane are almost immediate: vomiting, diarrhea, burning, tingling and numbing sensations in the mouth, face, and then the abdomen."
"You say that like you're talking about the weather," Erica commented which made Melanie shrug.
"It's just the facts."
"Hmm," Jackson muttered, pausing to look the black haired girl up and down, "seems you're useful after all." He licked his lower lip, turned and walked away with a new pep in his step. Melanie's nose wrinkled at the entire weird exchanged but then she brushed it off. It was Jackson; after all, she didn't trust him to hold that much trivia in his head. Not when it seemed to be filled with his ever-ready list of insults.
Erica sighed. "I don't get why you're being so nice to him when he's being awful to you," she said as they continued walking down the hall in the opposite direction.
"I have to see him every day after school. It's better to be civil than outright hate him when I need him to cover my back when we're on the field. This way he won't stab it." Her words ended with a soft sigh as her eyes flittered from side to side, catching those whispering and pointing in her direction. "So, that history homework?"
"It wasn't too bad. We just have to do short answers about some of the key figures we've been reading about."
"How'd you manage to get any homework done with your parents' plans?" Melanie looked up when Erica didn't answer. "You know, you never told me what made your whole night end up crashing and burning. I mean, I know your dad's a bit of a challenge but—"
"I, actually, don't want to talk about it," Erica interrupted, clearing her throat. "My dad was just my dad, that's all."
"Yeah, but you've dealt with your dad before. What could be so bad that—"
"Mellie, if you don't want to talk about your mom I don't want to talk about my dad. Okay?"
Unlooping their arms, Melanie held up her hands to block the bite in Erica's words. "Fine, we won't talk about that. How about you kissing me?"
"That either."
"I'm not complaining about it, Eri! Do you see me stomping about? I'll take a kiss anywhere I can get it but—"
Erica scratched at her hairline, shielding her face. "It happened and now it's done with it. That's all." She dropped her hand and then her head tilted at something down the hall. "What's that?"
"What's what?"
"That!"
Melanie followed Erica's pointing finger to her locker. Melanie mimicked Erica's head tilt, staring at the object as she approached. Once she was close enough she found that it was a flower attached to her locker door. A white rose. She grasped the magnet that was attached to the flower, pulling it off the metal surface. Spinning the flower around, she gave it a sniff and then smiled at the distinct scent.
"Who's it from?" Erica asked. "Your dad?"
"I doubt it; he would've given me a bouquet not just one. Besides, he didn't want me here today." She spun the dial on her lock a few times until it popped open with a click. She set the flower down and picked up the paper sitting on the top shelf. She carefully unfolded it and bit on her thumb while reading over it:
Mel,
My mom told me about what happened. I'm sorry to hear. She says she'll do whatever she can to give your mom all the help she needs. She always says you can come to her to talk if you need anything or if you have any questions you want answered. You can talk to me, too. And if you ever need a hug, my mom says I give the best in the world. But you can be the judge of that. I hope this helps cheer you up a little bit. I like seeing you smile.
-Scott
"Scott," Melanie whispered. She smiled and held the note to her chest, her fingers pressing into the paper as if in an effort to soak up his words. She rubbed her thumbs against the paper and then put it back into her locker and then reached for her notebook.
"Well? Who's it from?" Erica asked, nudging her shoulder.
"Hmm?" Melanie hummed. She tucked her hair behind her ear and said as nonchalantly as possible, "Oh, just Scott."
"'Just Scott', huh?" Erica repeated while making finger quotes around the words. "So why're you smiling like that if it's 'just Scott'?"
"It was just nice of him, that's all. Homework?" She held out her palm. Erica dug into her bag and pulled out her homework. Melanie took it and sat down on the floor, flipping open both notebooks. Erica slid down to the ground next to her, loosely wrapping her arms around her knees.
"What about Allison?"
"They broke up."
"Still. I've seen the way he looks at her." A sad smile formed on her face. "It's the look I've always dreamt of someone having on their face as they look at me."
"I'll look at you any way you want me to, Eri," Melanie muttered, her nose pressed close to the lined paper she was writing on. "Besides, they have no claim on one another. Anyone can ask the other out if they want to."
"Sure, but you'd come out looking like a stealer." She chuckled. "That must be some rush, huh? Having that power, having that control…"
Melanie stopped writing, tapping the tip of her pen into the paper. "Yeah, well, control's all good until you lose it."
Making a coo-like noise of sympathy, Erica reached out and caressed Melanie's hair. Melanie turned to the side and rested her head on Erica's shoulder. Erica, in turn, rested her head atop of Melanie's. The other students would briefly pause to look at them, maybe whisper, and then walk on their way.
The only one to come to a complete stop was Isaac. With his hands shoved into his pockets and his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulder, he stood above them, head tilted as he surveyed the scene. With a drop of his shoulder, his bag slid down his arm until it landed on the ground, where he soon followed. Once he was comfortable sitting on the ground he then leaned over and rested his head on Melanie's shoulder. She wiggled her arm between his neck and his locker and draped it around his shoulders. And there they sat, entwined in the middle of the hallway, staying still as the bell rang overhead.
# # #
"What do you mean I can't practice? Coach, the game's tomorrow! I have to be there!" Melanie cried out. Maybe if she reasoned the stakes of the big game with him he'd change his mind. After all, he wanted to win as much as if not more than they did. He's been changing up positions for the past week to see which lineup was stronger than the other. Surely he'd see that it would be best to have everyone prepared just in case someone was to get injured.
"I don't want you crying all over the field, Crowe," Coach Finstock replied, barely looking up from his playbook.
"Wha…? I…Coach! C'mon, this isn't fair! I want to play!"
"And I want Greenberg to stop calling me in the middle of the night. We can't all get what we want. Except me. I can block his number. Found that out a bit too late. Blew up my answering machine, the weirdo. He really needs a girlfriend."
"As true as that statement is," Melanie said, holding up her hand to stop him from continuing, "that doesn't change the fact that I want to be at practice today."
"Look, kid. You wanted to be on my team and now you are. Maybe you can go out there and run people over right now. You could also end up in a puddle of tears being run over by everyone else." He closed his playbook with a snap. "You don't belong here today. Just go home."
Melanie didn't miss the finality in his voice or in the closing of his playbook. She rolled her lacrosse stick in her hands, watching as he got up from behind his desk and walked past her. Behind her, the sound of boys' laughter and slamming lockers went off like gunshots, each bullet hitting her right in the chest. Clenching her jaw, she threw her lacrosse stick to the ground and stomped out of the office.
Her rapid footsteps bounced off the lockers in the quiet hallway as she stalked towards the exit. Her breathing was heavy, her chest heaved, and her fingers clenched and unclenched by her side. She slammed a fist against a nearby locker and rested her forehead against it, blowing out a long breath. Maybe going home was the best idea. Maybe she should have stayed away from school today. With all the whispers and the pointing and people telling her how to react, hiding under the covers probably would have been the best option. At least that way she could curl up with her dog.
"Melanie?" Allison approached, holding her iPod between her hands. Her hair was piled atop of her head in a messy bun and she was decked out in black workout gear. "Is…is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Melanie replied, rubbing her face. "Just wishing I could go back in time and not wake up this morning, that's all."
"No practice? The game's tomorrow, right?"
"Coach…he gave me the afternoon off. That's all." She looked Allison up and down. "Where were you headed?" And how the hell do you look good in everything you wear?
"Oh, I was just going to go for a run." She rocked back and forth on her heels, playing with her fingers. "D'you maybe…want to come?"
"Sure. May as well get some use out of my practice clothes. Just let me change my shoes."
Allison placed her hands on her waist and bent to the side in a stretch. "Take your time."
Melanie jogged to her locker so as not to keep Allison waiting and changed from her cleats into her gym shoes. It was a good thing Coach drilled into them that they should have both shoes on hand just in case a change in weather made them move indoors for practice. She checked her phone, made a mental note to text Erica back, and switched out her shoes before tossing her bag and phone in and locking the locker door.
"Do you mind if I…?" Allison asked, waving her iPod around.
"Go ahead. It's your run, I'm just joining you."
She nodded, smiled a little, and with a tilt of her head motioned for them to get going. They pushed past the double doors and descended the front stairs. Melanie followed behind Allison, not knowing which direction she was going to run to. Allison made a beeline for the line of trees at the end of the school parking lot. Melanie stopped walking, feeling a heavy thud in the pit of her stomach.
"You want to run in there?" she asked.
Allison stopped and turned around. "Yeah, I always go running in the woods," she replied. "Fresh air, nature, no distractions. There are a lot of paths." Her pouty lips turned down in concern. "Why, is something wrong?"
Melanie crossed her arms. Somewhere, deep in there was the Hale house. What if Derek was still there? What if they ran into him in the woods? What if Allison ran back and told her father about him and then what would happen to him? To Scott? To her and Stiles for helping them? She licked her lips. It was a long shot that Allison would stumble upon it herself, so maybe there was nothing to worry about…
"No," Melanie finally replied. "Just checking. And it's better to go running in here. Less of a chance of getting run over."
"Right." Allison blinked, her eyebrows crinkling, and then she shook her head and they resumed walking. They were quiet as they broke through the tree line and began walking deeper into the woods, their shoes crunching against twigs and leaves beneath their feet. "Melanie?"
Melanie looked up from her feet. "Yeah?"
"Do you think about that night?" Allison kept her head and her stare forward as they walked. "The night of the attack?"
"All the time," Melanie admitted. She bit her lower lip. "It's-it's hard for me to sleep, sometimes. I just…go back to that night. And when I do get to sleep I keep dreaming that…that thing got inside and…" her words died out as her eyes darted around, looking for Alpha eyes. She squinted, peering through some trees. She heard a rustle. Her heart jumped into her throat. A squirrel burst out of the underbrush and ran up a tree. Melanie rubbed at her forehead with her palm. If a squirrel was getting to her, being out in the woods probably wasn't the best idea—
"I can't stop thinking about it, wondering why he wanted to kill us all," Allison spoke up. "We're just…kids. We didn't do anything. Yet he made sure we were all together at the school. All of us. He wanted us…but why?" She pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line. "And we couldn't even do anything about it…We just had to wait to…to die." Melanie flinched at the harsh word. "Waiting to die…some way to go, huh? At least give me a chance to fight back…to fight for my life. To fight for—"
"Your right to party?" Melanie suggested. Her small smile at her own joke died when Allison gave her an incredulous look. "Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Well, hey…you're here now. It's better to live for the future than stay in the past, right?"
"Maybe," Allison muttered. She then tilted her head and stuck her ear buds into her ears. "Come on, let's get going." Once the other ear bud was in she shifted her weight and started to jog. Melanie looked around again and then followed after her.
Her breathing soon became as steady as her running pace, which had to be altered slightly to keep up with Allison's longer legs. Sweat dotted her hairline and made her shirt stick to her back. Her feet thudded against the dirt and her ponytail bounced from side to side with each step. The trees swayed overhead, shifting the shafts of sunlight that streaked in through the dead leaves that still clung to the tree branches. A light wind caressed her sweat-slicked skin, making gooseflesh arise on her arms.
Or maybe it was from seeing the Hale house in the distance.
Allison had stopped running, her head inclined as she looked at the building. Melanie stopped behind her, her chest heaving as she panted, her heart thudding in her chest. "Al, let's go," she said, keeping her eyes on the burned down house.
"Wait, I want to get a closer look," Allison replied, waving her away.
"It's not safe," she pressed.
"It won't take long."
Melanie huffed out a breath and followed Allison up the sloping hill to the burnt out shell of a home. Her eyes moved from side to side, her muscles tensed in her back and shoulders and her hair stood up on the back of her neck. Allison approached the house and skipped a few steps on the front porch. She paused in front of the door and then pushed it open. It emitted a low, elongated creak. Allison walked in but Melanie stopped by the door, looking at the scratch marks in the paint.
Had that been there before?
She entered the house to see Allison had ventured into the room that she had woken up in only a few days ago. Walking further into the house, she looked around only to stop by the couch. She remembered the scratchy fabric on her cheek, the smell of wet, old wood, the creak of the floorboards beneath her feet, the feeling of being watched…
Allison's scream made a scream rip from Melanie's throat. She whirled around to see a woman grimacing by the doorway. Hand on her chest, Melanie could only stare at the woman who made a comment about Allison's lungs.
"Did you follow me here?" Allison asked.
"Well, you can't blame me for being concerned about my favorite niece, now, can you?" the woman replied.
"I knew there was someone following us!" Melanie cried out, snapping her fingers.
"Then why didn't you say anything" Allison demanded.
"I didn't want to freak you out….although, it's a little late for that, I guess."
The woman looked over at Melanie and smiled. "I wondered if you saw me. You looked right in my direction sometimes." Her smile then stretched a little more as she pointed and said, "Hey wait, I remember you. You're the girl from the flower shop."
"Right," Melanie replied. She swallowed. Her tongue briefly got stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. "So you must be…?"
"Allison's aunt. I'm Kate," she replied. Melanie had to strain to keep herself from instinctively going for her phone. If she was Allison's aunt...that must mean… Smile still stuck to her face, Kate looked between the two girls. "What were you looking for?"
"I don't know - Something. Anything," Allison replied.
"You mean answers…to lingering questions like—"
"Why he would want to kill us."
"I mean, that doesn't really matter, right?" Melanie cut in. "We're alive. He's gone. We don't have to worry about him anymore. We have more police around the school. We look like a penitentiary. Not that school wasn't like that before, am I right?" Even she almost cringed at how awful her nervous laughter sounded.
Kate ignored her as she stepped further into the room. Allison stood and brushed her hands together to rub off dirt. "Could you imagine if your father and I were trapped in something like this? It might do some pretty interesting things to your head, don't you think?"
"It wouldn't turn me into a psychotic killer," Allison shot back.
"You don't have to be psychotic to be a killer. You just, ah, need a reason. And even then, sometimes…you can surprise yourself."
Melanie ran her fingers through her hair. They had to get out, now. If Kate was anything like Allison's dad then they were both in trouble. "Hey, it's getting late. Maybe we should head back," she spoke up.
"Oh, I can help you guys back," Kate said with a smile. "Can't have you wandering around by yourselves, can we? Don't know what you might stumble upon?"
"A bee's nest?" Melanie suggested.
Kate chuckled and shifted her attention back to her niece. "What do you want, Allison?"
"I want to not be scared. That night in the school, I felt utterly weak. Like - like I needed somebody to come in and rescue me. I hate that feeling. I want to feel stronger than that. I want to feel powerful."
"Allison, if you can give me just a little bit of time—be just a little patient—I think I can give you exactly what you want," Kate vowed, circling her daughter like a lion stalking its prey. "What about you?" She added, lifting her chin in Melanie's direction. "All girls want to feel powerful, don't they? Want to feel that they have the world in their hands; that they can make their own decisions; that they can survive." She reached out and placed a hand on Melanie's shoulder. "I can help you do that. What do you say?"
# # #
Nova greeted Melanie by running around and nipping at her feet when she returned home that night. She made sure the door was closed and locked behind her as she entered the quiet and still house. She hesitated by the door. On any other day her mother would be in the kitchen humming along to the soft rock song that was playing on the radio as she cooked, the wafting aromas would assault her by the door. But it wasn't any other day. There was no humming, no music, and no food cooking.
"Come on, boy, I'll get you some food," Melanie said, reaching down to pet between the dog's ears. He trotted behind Melanie as she navigated through the house, flicking on lights as she went. Finally she reached the kitchen. Dropping her keys on a nearby counter, she picked up Nova's bowl and went to the pantry to get his food. She filled his bowl and then set it down for him to eat. Grabbing an apple out of a bowl, she turned around only to yelp and throw the piece of fruit when she spotted her father sitting at the kitchen table.
"Geeze, Dad! Don't do that!" Melanie cried out.
"If your first plan of attack is to throw an apple at an intruder, you might want to rethink your plan," he replied. She knew it was supposed to be a joke but it fell flat. Bags hung under his eyes, his hair was unkempt, wrinkles sat in his clothes, his tie hung loosely around his neck, and his eyes were dull. It hurt her heart to see him like this. "Why didn't you come?" he rasped.
Melanie looked at her feet, lifting her bag higher up her shoulder. "I had to be at practice.," she muttered, "the game's tomorrow."
"I'm sure they would have understood if you opted not to go," Laurence said.
"I want to play, Dad."
"I understand that, but in this situation it's not the best idea." He set the apple down and rubbed at his eyes. "You should have been with us."
"Mom's still going to be there. I could see her after the game," she grumbled, turning to leave.
"This isn't something small, Hummingbird, something is wrong with your mother," Laurence stated. His words stopped her in her tracks. She twisted her mouth to the side. Her heart rate increased. The sound of Nova's dog tags hitting against his bowl as he ate broke the silence that fell between them. Melanie felt her chest tighten.
"She was fine yesterday," Melanie whispered.
"…She hasn't been fine for a long time," Laurence replied. "Not since we lost Connor." His lips shook in the corners and he took in a deep breath, only for it to come out shaky once he breathed out. "I tried everything I could to help her. I gave her space when she needed it, I was a to cry on my shoulder when she needed it, and I was there when she needed it. I helped her as much as I could…but she didn't want the help. She just…got lost…until she couldn't take it anymore and tried to find a way out."
Shut up, Dad, just shut up! She shook her head in an effort to rid herself of the heavy weight that started to press down on her. "Dad, I have homework," Melanie uttered, trying to move past him.
He grasped her shoulders. Unshed tears lined his bottom lids. "Sweetie, your mother tried to kill herself last night."
A lightning bolt hit her hard in the gut. Her eyes burned and her stomach "I have homework," she repeated, trying to get out of his tight grasp. "Dad, let go!"
"Melanie, we have to talk about this."
No we don't! We don't! Because she didn't do that! She wouldn't... Melanie wrenched herself away from him, grabbing her bag before it fell to the ground. "I have an important game tomorrow and I have homework to try and finish." She stumbled over her feet in her haste to get out. "I'll see you later."
She turned and ran for the stairs before her father could stop her. She skipped a couple to get up faster and once she was safe in her room, behind a closed door, she threw her bag down onto her bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. She clutched the pillow even as it felt stuffy around her face and her throat hurt and she had a hard time breathing.
Only when the material of the pillow began to make her face itch did she pull away. The cool air in the room was heaven to her hot face. Running her fingers through her hair, she pushed it off her forehead and dropped down on her bed. Down below she heard her father's footsteps as he moved through the empty kitchen.
Rapid footsteps squeaking against linoleum floor. A loud backdrop amidst the steady beeping of the machines and the hushed murmurs of doctors overhead. The bright florescent casting light rivaling the beams of the sun. Weight pressing down on her body, arms pinned to the sides feeling so, so cold. Colder than she'd ever felt before. Fingers twitching by her side, aching to reach out for the other tiny hand. Reaching out for Mollie.
Melanie's eyes snapped open. Her chest rose and fell with every deep breath. She slapped her cheeks, shook her head, and told herself to focus on homework. Focus on anything else but... She grabbed her backpack and yanked open the zipper, reaching inside for her school books. Instead she pulled out the flower and note that Scott had put in her locker.
Scott…
Yanking her phone out of the mesh pocket on the side of her bag, she selected Scott's name on her contacts list and held her phone up to her ear, biting on her thumb as she waited for him to answer. The loud buzzing on the other end made her bite her thumb harder. C'mon, c'mon, pick up! On the second to last buzz he finally answered and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn't hurt.
"Hey Scott. No, nothing's wrong. Yeah, I'm fine, I promise. I just need to tell you something important. It's about…" The words were so simple. It's about Allison. That's all she had to say and then he could get a leg up on Allison's aunt and father and any other hunters that might be around. But she looked down at the flower in her lap again. She touched the soft petals of the white rose and felt her mouth pull back on one side in a half smile. "…Thanks…for the flower. I really needed it."
a/n - And here's another update! Thanks to everyone who fav'd and alerted and reviewed so far, I really appreciate the support! So what did you think of this chapter? Liked it? Disliked it? I hope the wait wasn't too long for you guys.
Who's excited for Season 5 coming up? I can't wait to see what Scott and his pack get up to this year. Is anyone else hoping that we'll see Jackson come back now that Colton isn't a regular on Arrow anymore? (I mean, I love him in Arrow but I wouldn't mind seeing Jackson return.)
Please read and review!
~C.M.
