First off, I forgot to give a shout out last chapter to Illyrilex, whose DM chat with me once again gave me much-needed insight into preteen girls, this time involving Halloween costumes. And now, moving on...
I'm trying something new for this chapter. As you know, this fic covers a period of seven years. Unlike J.K. Rowling, I don't have plans to write an entire novel for each of those years. So this chapter is gonna be a collection of "slice of life" vignettes to try and condense one of the years Melanie spends at the school. Hope you enjoy!
All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.
Chapter Eighteen: Days In the Life
Tuesday, November 4th, 1997
"You missed our weekly session, Melanie," was the first thing that Nikolai said when the small blonde entered the kitchen to do the chores she'd signed up for.
For a moment, she grew red in the face. She'd been so caught up in the excitement of Halloween, she'd forgotten it was on a Friday. "Sorry, dude," she said as she whipped her bandanna out from her jeans pocket and tied it on, tucking her hair up underneath it. "I was… kind of busy getting chewed out by Landy in her office. And then after that, they made us go back to the dorms and stay there for the rest of the night. And they had increased security on the Quad."
The gray-haired man gave a shrug. "I'm surprised you let that stop you."
Melanie laughed, and tied on her apron. "Okay, you got me! Truth is, I just plain forgot because I was celebrating a very important holiday the way it was meant to be celebrated."
"Yes, I have been meaning to speak to you about that. And about the eggs that went missing from my walk-in. I had to find something else to serve with breakfast the next morning."
Melanie chose not to make a comment about his scrambled eggs. "Yeah, that's too bad. But at least they died for a good cause. And a fun one."
"Well, then, you'll like the job I have for you today. Go get three cartons of eggs from the walk-in, and a large mixing bowl."
She went to get the items requested, and made her way slowly back to the table, trying not to drop any eggs. When she set her burden down, she saw that Nikolai had several whole chickens on his end of the tabletop, and was breaking them down into the individual pieces one normally finds in a grocery store.
She raised her eyebrows in anticipation. "Oven-baked fried chicken tonight?" It was one of the better things he made, even though it still didn't hold a candle to actual fried chicken. But she knew that the "Nutrition Nazi" who ran this school would never allow a deep-fryer in the kitchen.
"Da," Nikolai responded. "So we need to make a wash for the dredge. Start breaking those eggs into the bowl."
Melanie did as asked, even though it was monotonous. Also, she would sometimes drop a shell into the bowl, and then have to pick out all the pieces. But finally, all thirty-six eggs had been broken. "Done," she said to the head chef, who was still carving chickens and placing the pieces onto trays.
He looked over from his work and gave a nod of approval. "Good. Now beat them."
Melanie gave him a salute. "Da ser! Where's the mixer?"
"Mixer's broken." He then produced a wire whisk from the breast pocket of his whites and held it out to her. "You'll have to do it by hand."
The small blonde girl groaned. "Are you serious? Can't another staff member do it?"
"They're all busy. You want to earn allowance or not?"
"Ugh. Fine!" Melanie accepted the whisk and began beating the eggs. When it felt like her arm was ready to fall off, they had finally been blended into a homogeneous mixture. "Done with that," she said, placing the bowl on the polished table surface and then rubbing her sore arm.
"Spasibo," Nikolai said with a curt nod, then picked up the bowl, walked it over to the nearest waste bin, and dumped the beaten eggs into it.
Melanie felt the urge to throw off her apron and storm out of the kitchen. "What the fuck, dude?" She snapped. "You just wasted my fucking time!" A few of the other staff turned their heads towards her, but no one said anything. Their boss seemed to be the only adult in the school who didn't enforce Joan's rule on harsh language.
Nikolai returned to the table and tossed the bowl down with a clatter. "As you wasted mine," he said curtly, his gray eyes fixed on Melanie's bright amber. "You ever want to take something from my kitchen, always ask first. Simply taking is disrespectful. You understand?"
The blonde girl couldn't help but feel her ears get a little red. She hadn't even considered what a pain in the ass it must have been for Nikolai to have to come up with something else to serve for breakfast. And, well, he was the coolest adult she'd met at this place. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'm… sorry I didn't ask, but… I'm still not sorry for taking them. It was totally worth it. But… next time, I'll ask."
He shrugged. "As long as you understand the importance of asking. Now, go get three more cartons of egg. And after those have been whisked, you can peel some potatoes."
She scowled. "What? I gotta do that again?"
"Of course. You didn't think I'd let you off easy, did you?"
"For a second, I kind of did. Stupid of me, I guess." Both of them laughed, and then he resumed chopping, while Melanie went to go get more eggs out of the walk-in.
Thursday, December 25th, 1997
"Melanie, dear," Joan Landy's voice called through the dining hall. "Would you kindly lead us in grace?"
The small blonde took a deep breath. She was afraid this might happen. Ever since Joan had met with her to advise her to start taking grace a little more seriously, it had been a learning experience. So there had been a few instances where Melanie had missed a meal or gotten detention because the headmistress felt her prayer was a little too sarcastic.
But for the past week she'd been dreaming of the holiday meals. It was the main thing that had helped her through exams, even though she did well overall. She'd gotten an A in Biology, her favorite subject, a B minus on her book report, a B in History (at first she'd groaned when she found out Santiago was switching from social studies to history, but the subject had been surprisingly interesting, studying the major wars of Ancient Greece and Sparta, and the tactical reasons they were so successful), and a D plus in Math, which she was happy to get, as she despised that subject more than the stupid books Kelly assigned, which were usually filled with characters who were pussies. Through it all, she remembered last Christmas, how the French toast had melted in her mouth.
Now the smell of breakfast was making her salivate like the proverbial Pavlovian hound. So damn it if she wasn't going to say the best damn grace ever. Eyes on the prize, she thought. She took a deep breath and started: "Well, Lord, it's been a heck of a year. We've all learned new things. Some of us have learned things about ourselves we wouldn't have thought we could learn. But I feel like the important thing is that we have learned, and I hope we had fun in the process. At least sometimes. So, thanks for helping us all learn and grow. Amen?"
After she was done, she glanced out of the side of her eye at Joan, who was unreadable as usual. She took a moment to smooth out the cuffs of her dark green blazer, then she actually smiled. "That was surprisingly moving, dear. Maybe you can conform, after all. All right, my children. Let's all sit and enjoy our breakfast."
This time, Melanie took both French Toast and pancakes. The latter was nice and fluffy, and of course the butter and syrup made it even better. She also remembered to load her plate with all the other goodies: meats, a biscuit with some gravy, toast… and this year, there had been some sort of egg casserole. And Melanie could actually taste the eggs.
"I was deeply moved, Mel," Kimberly said as the two girls started to tuck in. "Could Landy actually be right?"
"No," her roommate answered with her mouth full. "There's just no way in hell I was missing out on this breakfast."
Kim laughed, spraying a few crumbs onto her plate. "So, Melanie has two weaknesses where grace is concerned. Knives and food. Wonder what the third one is?"
"They're not weaknesses. I have my fingers crossed, remember?"
Her roommate was now looking thoughtful while dredging a link sausage through the syrup left over from her pancakes. "Well, you did bring up some good points. We have all learned shit this past year."
"I'll say," Niko chimed in. "I think I'm close to a breakthrough on this project. Maybe another few months and we'll have free cable in the rec room."
"But then how do we keep that hidden from Landy and Wallace?" Melanie asked her.
"That's Regina's problem. She's the one who first asked me if this could be done."
"I'm surprised you still continued the project even after your blacklisting," Kimberly noted.
The freckled blonde shrugged and forked up the last bite of her biscuit, dunking it in her gravy first. "Well, by then I'd invested too much of my own time in it. Plus, it's a nice challenge for myself. Haven't had one of those in a while. So I'm doing it more for me than for her, just to prove to myself that I can do it."
"So that Horse Face's lazy ass can hog the TV in the rec room," Melanie quipped, and reached for the orange juice pitcher. "But it's cool that you wanna finish it, just for the hell of it."
Kimberly shook her head. "Well, Regina will still have to share. It would look suspicious if she and her bitch squad constantly filled the sign up sheet for the TV. Wallace isn't stupid, even if her thermos doesn't always have coffee in it."
"Cool," Melanie said, again with her mouth full. "So maybe I can show you girls some of the classic movies that I got to know back when TV was my babysitter."
"And I can find some subtitled animes to watch," said Kimberly.
Her roommate rolled her eyes. "Kim, the whole point of watching something on TV is so you don't have to read. Why are you so weird?"
"Because I have better taste," was the answer, and then all three girls laughed.
As the meal was winding down, stockings were passed around, and Melanie was surprised to find a bulge in hers. Before she could reach into it, Kimberly tapped her on the shoulder. "Here, let me take a peek. Just to make sure it's safe."
The blonde girl smiled and passed it over. "Thanks, Kim."
"Anytime." The dark-haired girl peeked into the stocking, then raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do you know?"
"What?" Melanie asked her.
"Well, it's harmless, Mel, but… see for yourself." Kimberly passed back the stocking, and Melanie reached her hand in. A moment later, she pulled out… two field guides, one on edible mushrooms in the Pacific Northwest, the other a book on bird-watching.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the books, confused by them, and then a minute later Layla and Zoey came over to their table. "Sorry, Mel," Layla told her. "It's kind of a gag gift, but we couldn't resist."
Melanie laughed a little. "No problem. I'm sure you saw what I put in yours."
Now the other two laughed. "Yeah," said Zoey. "But we could probably put those compasses to good use on Field Day. So thanks."
After they went back to their seats, Kimberly checked her stocking. Inside was an action figure (Kimberly called the character Roy Focker, and Melanie thought she looked like someone from a cartoon she'd stumbled across one Saturday morning at one of her foster homes), and something called a Yo-Yo Ball. The dark-haired girl's brow crinkled in confusion at the second one.
"That's from me, Kim," said Melanie. "I know you've been having trouble with getting the yo-yo to actually go up and down. The dude at the toy store told me that this one will always come back up into your hand. You never have to wind it."
To her surprise, Kimberly actually scowled. "So, what are you saying, Mel? That I need training wheels?"
The petite blonde found herself taken aback. "No. I… I just… know you've been practicing with a yo-yo a lot. I… I just thought maybe I could help you by starting you off small… like our training together… you know, it's like a rubber knife."
In an instant, her friend's expression softened, and she leaned forward and gave Melanie a hug. "I know. I was just messing with you. I appreciate this a lot, Mel. Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Melanie answered. She then looked back into her stocking and found a Die Hard T-Shirt (which was from Niko), and that was it. For a moment, she thought about asking Kimberly why there was nothing from her, but decided against it. After all, the reason Kim hadn't gotten her anything last year was because Melanie had been quite vocal about how much she hated Christmas. Her attitude had changed a little (she didn't like the religious aspects, but the way the school celebrated was okay with her), but she hadn't really told her roommate that. So she set her stocking down by her plate and resumed eating.
Compared to last year, the rest of the day went well. Melanie actually watched one of the movies being shown in the Assembly Hall (the Muppet Christmas Carol), and spent the rest of the day just relaxing. Christmas dinner did not disappoint, and as a bonus, Joan seemed placated by Melanie's grace at breakfast and asked someone else to say it.
Later on, she and Kimberly were lounging in their room with full stomachs, killing time until lights out. The small blonde was stretched on her bed, reading a Milk and Cheese comic, when she heard Kimberly say her name.
"Yeah?" She looked up at the other girl, and saw Kimberly holding a small wrapped parcel.
"I didn't put this in your stocking, because I wanted to actually wrap it and give it to you in person," the dark-haired girl explained, and held the palm-sized package out to her. "Merry Christmas."
Melanie smiled as she accepted the package. She opened it to find a Swiss Army Knife in a small plastic casing. A quick glance at the writing on the casing showed it had all the features on Melanie's broken knife (which she still kept), plus a few extra, such as scissors, a toothpick, and tweezers.
"I know it's not the knife you're working towards," Kimberly said. "But at least you have something, since Regina broke your other one."
The blonde girl's smile grew wider. "Thanks, Kim," she said, then got up and gave the other girl a hug. "But I gotta be honest, I still have the broken one, and I'm gonna hold onto it. Because someday, I'm gonna feed it to Regina."
Kimberly laughed. "I would mention our rules, but every now and then it's okay to break them. Remember the snowball fight?"
"How could I forget?" Melanie said. She then set the knife down on her nightstand and went to her dresser, crouched down, opened the bottom drawer. After a moment, she closed it and got up, holding a small parcel in her hands. She walked back over to Kimberly's bed, sat down at the end of it, and offered out what she was holding. "So, the Yo-Yo Ball… was not your real gift. I wanted to give you that one in private, too."
Kimberly's dark brown eyes went wide. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak, or even reach out and take the present. It was starting to make Mel uncomfortable, so she placed it in her roommate's lap. "Here," she said.
The shock subsided, and Kim picked up the gift. "Thanks, Mel," she said, and then tore it open… to find a VHS of an animated movie based off the novel "Watership Down."
"I got it at that store in the mall," Melanie said. "American Style Garbage. I, um… saw it at one of my foster homes, a fake dad who had a black box. And… I know it's about bunnies, but there's a lot of cool, gory stuff in it. And you like anime, so… maybe you'll like this?"
"Maybe I will," said Kimberly. "The year before you got here, Kelly had us read the book, and I thought it was pretty cool. Thanks, Mel. I appreciate this."
The two girls shared another hug. Then Melanie shifted position so she was at the very end of the mattress, sitting with her knees tucked up under her chin. "Hey, Kim," she said. "I don't think I ever told you this story."
Kimberly set her gift down on the nightstand, and then faced Melanie in the same position, genuinely curious. "Yeah?"
Melanie looked almost introspective, something her roommate hadn't seen in a while. "Well, the longest I was ever in a foster home was for a year. Hated every minute of it. It was these two Jesus freaks who thought it was 1895 and not 1995. Had a shit ton of rules. Speak when spoken to, don't eat until the head of the house has taken a bite. Don't sit on certain couches on certain days of the week. Crazy stuff like that. And if you broke any of their rules, they'd yank your pants down and go to town on you with this big leather strap."
Kim said nothing, just listened. So Melanie went on. "I tried everything I could to get out of there. Usually, if I behaved bad enough, my fake parents would send me back to the orphanage. Or if I kept running away. That worked well, too. But these two didn't send me back, just kept using the strap."
"Why didn't they send you back?"
"I dunno. They kept telling me I was 'broken in their God's eyes' or some shit. Probably thought it was their holy mission to fix me and turn me into a lady. After the second time I ran away they started to padlock my bedroom door from the outside. They'd also roll me out of bed, literally roll me out of it, at the ass-crack of dawn every morning, and we'd go to the woods and spend a few hours praying. Or, I pretended to, anyway."
Kimberly nodded. "How'd you get out of there?"
A smile spread over the small blonde's lips. "Well, Christmas rolled around. The fake mom had this Nativity Scene that took up half the living room. Old family heirloom, had been handed down from her mom, who got it from her mom, and so on. Well, see, we lived in this real hicks-ville, there was a farm two miles away from us that raised and slaughtered pigs. I… got my hands on some blood from those guys, and on Christmas Eve night, when the fake parents were asleep, I broke out of the room. Was easy to do. The window was also padlocked, but I'd learned how to quietly smash glass.
"So from there, I went into the living room, and… smeared pig's blood all over the Nativity Scene. But I wanted to make sure that this prank would piss them off enough so they'd want me gone." At this point, she grew a little red around the ears, and glanced down at the bed. "So after I was done throwing blood all over the scene, I, ahem, um, I… took-a-dump-in-the-middle-of-it."
She stopped talking then, and at first there was silence, Kim blinking in confusion since Mel had said that last part pretty fast. Then, she asked: "Wait, did… you just say that… you shit in your foster mom's Nativity Scene?"
Melanie's face grew redder. "Yeah. When they woke up and saw me standing next to my handiwork, I flipped them both off. Got slapped pretty hard for that, but then they were calling the orphanage asking how soon someone could come get me."
Kimberly had no words of sympathy for that, because she was still processing the first thing her roommate had told her. "You… took a shit… in the middle your foster mom's…" Melanie leaned forward, trying to read her face, her own cheeks burning. Kimberly raised her eyes to Mel… and then exploded into laughter.
This caused Melanie to laugh as well, and for a minute the two girls were each rolling on their respective end of the bed, gasping for air, tears streaming down their cheeks. Finally, things settled a bit, and Kimberly, still chuckling, wiped her eyes with the bed sheet. "I gotta tell you, Mel… you are nothing if not creative."
Melanie shrugged, and wiped her own eyes. "Hey, you learn to be when you've been where I have."
"And, also… thanks for sharing that. I know you don't like to talk about the past."
Another shrug. "At this point, you've pretty much earned it."
Kimberly smiled at her, the warmest one she'd ever seen on the other girl. "I'm glad you feel that way."
Melanie fidgeted, then, but only a little. "So, yeah… like, I hate the whole God aspect of this holiday, but… celebrating it here isn't so bad."
"I'm glad you think so, Mel."
Melanie fidgeted a little more. "I mean… I'll play Landy's game and say grace when she asks me to, if it will help me get what I want, but my fingers will always be crossed. If God does exist, I see no reason to thank him for anything."
Kimberly shrugged. "After what you just told me, Mel, I don't blame you."
Melanie hugged her, then got up from the bed, and changed into a nightshirt and her comfy brown pajama pants. After getting back onto her own bed, she asked: "Hey, Kim, would you pay me twenty bucks if I took a shit in Landy's office?"
The dark-haired girl shook her head. "Twenty? Nah, that's only worth ten."
Melanie scoffed. "Ten?"
"Yeah," Kimberly explained. "Taking a shit in her office and then using it to write an obscene message on the window: that's worth twenty."
They both shared another laugh, and then Mel said: "Well, I won't actually do that, because I don't think she'd expel me. She'd think of something worse."
"Yeah, probably."
Melanie picked her comic back up, but paused to look at Kimberly out of the side of her eye. Despite the fact that it violated everything Melanie believed in, largely the mantra that had helped her survive her years in foster care, orphanages, and on the streets, she'd grown to trust Kimberly completely. At first, the small blonde had found the other girl annoying, but Kimberly had endeared herself. And Melanie was surprised to find she felt gratitude.
Kimberly looked up from her own reading when she noticed her roommate's glance. "What's up?" She asked.
Melanie simply smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, Kim."
Kimberly smiled back. "Merry Christmas, Mel."
After lights out, she did not fall asleep right away, as the small blonde was more conflicted than ever about what to do after she had her knife.
Monday, January 5th, 1998
The first day back at classes after break was gray and cloudy, and when they started gym class, most of the girls found themselves grateful for the black thermal leggings they wore with their uniforms during the months of winter. Not that it was raining, or anything. Just cloudy, as it usually was for the residents of King County, Washington. But the clouds just seemed to make winter's chill that much more biting.
Today, however, Melanie could not even think about the cold. The exercises Hartman started them off with had warmed her up, and once the class was split into its two groups, the gruff man passed out what she thought were the safety training knives to the girls on the south end of the field. But her pulse quickened when her hand closed around the hilt, felt an alloy much sturdier and more resistant than rubber. She drew it from its leather sheath, flicked a finger against the side of the blade, heard the metallic ding, followed by a faint, brief hum. The song of actual forged steel.
Melanie felt her heart ready to leap out of her chest. She somehow kept her voice level when she asked: "Sarge, what's going on? Have… have we earned…?"
Hartman, who had finished passing out the knives, shook his head. "Not yet, Melanie. When you do earn it, there's a bit more ceremony involved. And your weapon will actually be custom-made, with your name engraved on the sheath. No, this is simply the next step of your training. Every Monday, I want you girls to practice with these knives, so you get used to the weight of handling a real weapon. As you can see, it is a bit more significant than a piece of rubber."
Melanie's arm was straight out, still gripping the handle, hand bobbing up and down. She only half-heard the teacher, as she was still trying to process the fact that she was holding a real one, even if it was just for practice. "Remember, ladies," the sarge went on. "Like any weapon you'll use in combat, it is a tool. Now, form a straight line, take ready position, and start going through the warm-up forms."
"For how long, sir?" Asked one of the other girls, a brunette named Andrea.
"Until that weapon feels like an extension of you," Hartman answered. "I'll be back to check on you later." With that, he started towards the north end of the field, to check on the more advanced class and give them their instructions for the day.
The girls all did as instructed, except for Melanie, who was still holding the weapon out in front of her, in awe of it. "Come on, Mel, let's get in line!" The voice of Zoey snapped her out of her trance, and the small blonde quickly took up a ready position alongside the other girl, leaving a few feet between them to avoid cutting each other.
"Guess the runt's distracted by shiny objects," Jaclyn said with a chuckle. Ever since the incident at Halloween, she seemed to have gained more favor with Regina, and found out she liked it. Which made her a huge pain in the ass whenever the brown-haired girl was in the vicinity of Melanie.
At first, Melanie ignored her, remembering the forms, and trying to go through them. One, two, three, four, five… she went through the sweeps, thrusts, and chops that were considered basics for combat with edged weapons. The final movement was an overhead swing that was supposed to stop when the arm was perpendicular to the torso. Melanie, however, was used to the much lighter rubber blade, so she swung too fast and lost her grip on the real knife, dropping it at her feet.
"Maybe you need to go back to the training knife until you grow a few inches," sneered Jaclyn.
Melanie stooped to retrieve the weapon, and once more took ready position. "Sorry, can't understand what you're saying," she said. "Maybe you need to get Regina's balls out of your mouth."
Zoey laughed, along with a few other girls. Jaclyn scowled at that. "Don't get too cocky, runt. We'll have our real knives someday."
"Ten bucks says I earn it before you. Now shut up and get back to ball-sucking. I'm busy." With that, Melanie went through the motions again. One, two, three, four, five, six… all her attention was focused on it, loving the feel of the handle on her bare fingertips, its grip in her glove, the hum as the blade tore through the heavy winter air. Even if it was only temporary, she was holding the real thing in her hand. That alone was enough to make her forget everything for the moment, except the task.
It will be mine. Oh, yes. It will be mine…
Saturday, March 14th, 1998 – Cascade Mall
The manager of the El Pollo Caliente rolled his eyes at the small blonde on the other side of the counter. He'd had this conversation with her before, and would likely have it again. "I'm very sorry, young lady," he said. "We can serve you our wings in any other sauce on the menu except Dante's Inferno."
"Why not?" Melanie protested. "I've got money!"
"Because, these wings are dangerously hot. You need to sign a liability waiver before we can serve them to you. And if you're a minor, that document can only be signed by your legal guardian."
Melanie put both her hands on the counter, and leaned forward, though she didn't look very intimidating, since only her head stuck up over it. "How about this?" She asked. "I'll order wings tossed in one of your other sauces. Your fryer goons back there can forget what I ordered and 'accidentally' toss my order in the Inferno sauce instead. There'll be some extra money in it for you. I get what I want, you get to buy… whatever the fuck you're into. Everyone wins."
The manager shook his head. "It is not a question of money, young lady. If we serve those wings to you without the proper release being signed, and it burns a hole in your stomach, our business could be shut down. I could go to prison."
"First off, it won't burn a hole in anything," Melanie said. "I can handle it. And second, who has to know? I mean, let's face it, dude. What's following the rules ever gotten you? Except that stupid hat?" She pointed to the cap on the manager's scalp, which was part of their uniforms, designed to look like a chicken head, with the brim as the "beak," and laughed at it. Kimberly, standing next to her, sighed audibly.
Now the manager's cheeks turned red. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to leave."
She laughed again, placed a ten on the counter. "Relax, dude. I'm only fucking with you. Those hats are cute. I mean, you still look like more of a tool than we do in our school uniforms, but it's cute. Look, just gimme an order in your… um, Surface of the Sun. That one sounds good."
The manager, however, was impassive, and made no move to take the money. "I'm sorry, but I'm not able to serve you now. Leave, or I'll call security."
Melanie scowled as she grabbed her money and pocketed it. "Well, can I at least take one of those waivers with me?"
"Get out!" The man snapped, pointing towards the exit.
A short time later, she and Kimberly were sitting outside of the Nathan's in the food court, eating chili dogs and cheese fries. "Why so glum?" Melanie asked with her mouth full. "So we didn't get the wings. These are just as good."
"Yeah, but I had my heart set on wings," the dark-haired girl answered. "I can't handle spice as well as you, but their Garlic Chili Hoisin sauce has just enough heat. And those wings are really good. We could have gotten some if you just listened to that guy, and didn't insult him."
Melanie shrugged, and used the small red two-pronged skewer that came with her fries to pick up a golden brown spud dripping with cheese sauce and stuff it in her mouth. "Well, it's not my fault those clown suits they wear look ridiculous."
"They're working for a living, Mel," Kimberly said. "We might be there too, someday. I mean, we're probably not gonna live at the school for the rest of our lives. Just until we're eighteen."
"Yeah, but I like to think that if Landy is right about us being gifted, and I'm sure she is, we'll be working jobs that don't involve putting on funny hats and cooking other people's food."
"Doesn't mean we shouldn't treat those people with respect," Kimberly argued. "They do cook our food, Mel. Which means if you're not nice to them, they might spit in it. And that makes them better than us. You might work a more interesting job, but at least when they sit down to lunch, their food is free of spit."
Melanie had been raising her chili dog to her mouth, but paused at hearing that. She set it back down and took a long sip of soda. "I really hate it when you make sense."
"You're welcome." Kim smiled and forked one of her own cheese fries.
"Fuck you," Mel said, and both of them laughed. "Still, I wish he'd given me a copy of a waiver," she added once the moment had passed.
"You're being way too optimistic if you think Landy would ever sign it," Kimberly pointed out.
"She doesn't have to. I'm sure if I saw her signature, I could forge it."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they expect the waiver to be signed in person, Mel. So forget that idea." She chuckled again, and Melanie couldn't help but join in.
Later on, their lunch had been consumed, and they were trying to figure out what to do with the rest of their time before they had to go back to the bus. Kimberly suggested that they browse the music store, which her roommate was against.
"I hate those places," she argued. "They never play anything good."
"There's music out there for everyone, Mel," Kimberly argued back. "You just haven't found something you like yet. And anyway, you cost me those Spicy Hoisin wings, so you owe me one."
So they went to the music store. A short time later, Kimberly was browsing through the racks of CDs and cassettes, while Melanie looked like she was trying not to die of boredom. She made a face when she heard the music being played over the speakers through the ceiling. It sounded like some sort of jazz instrumental with extremely spaced out notes.
"What the hell are we listening to?" Melanie asked the clerk.
The store employee, a girl in her early twenties, showed her a CD case of some band called Tortoise. "Their latest album," she said. "Just released."
Melanie laughed at the artwork on the case. "Wow, that cover looks like some first grader's shitty attempt to draw their parents. And it sounds like funeral music. Put on something else."
The clerk rolled her eyes. "What do you want to listen to?"
"I don't care. Anything but this."
Kimberly looked up from her browsing and elbowed the small blonde in the side. "Stop embarrassing us, Mel."
Melanie was about to retort, but the clerk had finished putting a new CD in the stereo behind the counter, and pressed PLAY. The music that started to emanate from the speakers… was one of those tunes that grabbed the listener from the get-go. Layers of drum programs and an upbeat synth bass riff kept up a catchy rhythm, interspersed at all the right moments with a keyboard synthesizer leitmotif. After a minute of establishing the rhythm through music, the vocals started. They were sung in Japanese, but the girl singing them somehow made this uncanny warmth shine through in her voice, almost as if it felt like she were singing just for the listener, not a mass audience. So even though Melanie couldn't understand her, she found she didn't care.
Kimberly looked up again, and this time it was her turn to scowl. "What's this?" She asked.
"Dunno," Melanie said. "But I like it."
Kim's eyes flicked to the floor, saw her roommate's sneaker-clad foot tapping against the carpet in time with the synth bass. "Really? You like this?"
"Yeah. Who wouldn't? It's great."
"Reminds me of a song from one of my animes, but not as good. The singer sounds like she's been huffing helium."
Now Melanie started to look annoyed. "I don't think there's anything wrong with her voice." She asked the clerk who it was, and the woman responded by pointing to a display set up next to the store entrance: a life-sized cardboard cutout of a pretty young girl with long violet hair who appeared to be in her late teens, dressed in a seifuku, or Japanese school uniform. A hairband was perched atop her scalp with a star affixed to it, and she was smiling broadly, touching two fingers against her brow in a salute with one eye closed in a wink. The tables set up on either side of the cutout contained racks of what appeared to be the album they were listening to on CD.
Melanie walked over to the display, picked one up, and looked it over. Thankfully, the cover design had some English on it, most notably the singer's name. "Athena," she said out loud, and then turned it over and started to read the track listing, which was both in English letters and Japanese kanji.
"You want to buy one?" Kimberly asked her. She saw her roommate blushing a little around the ears, and chuckled.
Melanie quickly put the CD back on the display. "Well, maybe I don't like it that much," she said, remembering their conversation from earlier. "And anyway, I don't have a Discman."
"You can borrow mine until you save the money to buy your own."
"Nah, that's okay. I'm sure it's just a passing thing. I'll forget what this song sounds like by the time we get back to the bus."
Kimberly looked down at her wristwatch. "Speaking of which, we should probably mosey in that direction."
"You go on ahead," said Melanie. "I gotta stop in the restroom."
"Okay," Kimberly said, and left the store. As soon as she was far enough away, Melanie grabbed a CD, and walked to the register to pay for it. A short time later, they were sitting next to each other on the bus. There wasn't a lot of conversation, but as they got within sight of the school, her roommate said: "So, they were selling Athena CDs in the bathroom?"
Melanie, who had been trying to keep her purchase out of sight in the front pocket of her jacket, did a double take. "You knew?"
"Of course I knew. I'm not stupid, Mel. You should know that by now."
Melanie blushed, and took the CD from her pocket. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Kim said with a laugh. "I meant what I said. If you need to borrow my Discman until you get your own, you're welcome to. I'm just glad that you found your music." She left out that what really amused her was that it was J-Pop, even though Melanie said she hated anime.
"Well, I don't hate it," Melanie said. But after they got back to the school, Kimberly heard her whistling that song they'd heard in the store. But she chose not to say anything. Because she was smart enough to know when she'd won, and found no joy in gloating over her friends.
April 9th, 1998
"Eureka!"
Both Melanie and Kimberly looked up from their textbooks and turned their heads to Niko, who was seated on the other side of the table in the library.
The exclamation earned her a hush from the bespectacled librarian seated behind her desk, and Niko quickly apologized. "Sorry, ma'am. I've just always wanted to say that. And today I have a reason."
"Really?" Kimberly leaned forward, her own voice a whisper. "Does this mean…?"
"Yup. I think I've got it figured out: the workings of my generator, how to siphon power from the school's generator, the setup of the black box, all without Landy being the wiser. There's just a few parts I gotta get my hands on, but… the planning is done."
"Awesome!" The girls all exchanged high-fives as quietly as they could, then Melanie asked: "What else do you need?"
Niko flipped through pages in her Comp book, stopping at a list she had mapped out. "Well, one thing I need is the fan belt from a car motor."
"I can swipe one of those for you next time we're in town," Melanie offered.
The freckled blonde girl blushed a little at that. "You sure, Mel? You know what might happen if you got caught."
"I wouldn't get caught," Melanie said. "I've broken into cars lots of times in my homeless days. Plus I'll get to really test the knife Kim got me."
"Don't do it, Mel," Kimberly admonished. "We can find another way to get one."
"Yeah," Niko added. "I'll just take the list to Regina. She wants this cable hookup so badly, she can buy the parts. We pay her enough tribute."
"Totally," said Kim.
In truth, Melanie was a little disappointed. She hadn't stolen anything in a while, and wanted to flex her muscle in that department to keep from getting rusty. But, she'd rather see Regina have to spend money. "Okay, girls," she conceded. "The cars of Burlington will be spared."
"Thanks," the other two said.
For a time, they resumed their studies. Then Melanie leaned closer to the other blonde. "Hey, Niko… do you mind if I borrow your notes sometime?"
Niko raised one yellow eyebrow. "What for?"
"I just wanna look over them. See if I can get a better idea of how it all works."
Upon hearing that, the other girl nodded. "Okay, Mel. I'll lend my notebook to you as soon as I've got everything actually set up."
"Thanks."
A short time after that, Niko got up to look for a book. As soon as she was gone, Kimberly asked her roommate: "Okay, Mel, what's your interest in her notes?"
"I wasn't lying, Kim," the small blonde said with a shrug. "I honestly do wanna look at them and see if I can understand it."
"But why?"
"Just exploring options," was the only thing Melanie said in reply. "I wanna see if it has any other uses."
"Like what?"
"To be honest, I don't even know yet. And I won't know until I've looked at it."
Kimberly nodded, and went back to her book. "Okay, Mel. Whatever happens, I trust you to remember the agreement."
"Hey, it's me," Melanie said with a smirk, and resumed her own reading.
June 11th, 1998
Field Day was always the second Friday in June. Which meant that the day before, the girls all received their yearly physicals. As one would expect from someone who hated to be touched, Melanie wasn't a fan. Even though there were no classes today, she would have preferred that over stripping down to her underwear in a room where the Air Conditioner was running too high, to get prodded by an adult.
But, at least Gladys seemed to understand how unpleasant that might be, and did everything she could to try and make the girls more comfortable. Not to mention that she was a wizard with needles. Melanie felt almost nothing when the cheerful woman drew some blood, and then administered the Tdap booster.
And this year, Melanie hardly felt the chill in the room for good reason: for the last few months, her clothes had been starting to feel tighter. The small blonde already hated the skirt on her gym uniform, but lately she'd been pulling on the hem a lot during class, trying to stretch it as much as possible. But despite her self-consciousness, she was thrilled about what this might mean, and was wondering how much she'd grown, especially since she had experienced none at the last physical.
She fidgeted impatiently as she stood on the scale, watching Gladys put notes in her file. The black and silver-haired woman looked up from her work and gave a warm smile. "All right, child, you can get dressed."
Melanie all but ran to the exam table and started to put her school uniform back on. But she still kept one eye on the keeper of the infirmary, waiting to hear her report. After it was given, it took some restraint to keep herself from kissing the older woman. Instead, she jumped a few feet in the air, and left the room with an excited whoop.
Back out on the Quad, she spotted Kimberly sitting under a tree, reading one of the books that Kelly had assigned over the summer. The dark-haired girl looked up when she saw the shadow fall over her, to see her roommate standing there with a broad grin. "Two inches!" Melanie exclaimed.
Kimberly got to her feet and gave the other girl a hug. "That's awesome, Mel!"
"Kind of sucks that I have to wear the old uniform tomorrow, but Gladys told me I should have new ones by the end of next week." After she'd given Melanie the news, the nurse had also said that she'd be passing her report onto Joan, along with the new measurements she'd taken, and Melanie would soon have an entire new wardrobe that fit her.
The girl's celebration was short-lived, as the small blonde then felt something brush hard across her ankles from behind, knocking her legs out from under her and sending her into the grass. Once on her back, she saw Regina's imposing form towering over her.
"Doesn't matter how much you've grown, it doesn't make you any less of a runt," she sneered at the smaller girl. "And I'll always be bigger."
Melanie said nothing. Simply stared skyward with a blank look on her face. Regina bent down, leaning her head in closer, still looking cocky. "What's wrong, runt? Cat got your tongue."
"No. Just waiting for you to get close enough for me to do this." Still on her back, Melanie brought one leg up in a high kick, the front of her foot smacking Regina in the forehead. The Alpha staggered back, but then recovered quickly, yanking Melanie to her feet and holding her roughly by the collar with one hand, the other cocked back, fingers curled into a fist. Despite still being a head shorter than Regina, Melanie was doing the same.
"Is there a problem, girls?" Spoke an authoritative voice from the sidewalk. They turned to see Mr. Coleman standing there, arms folded across his chest, rigid as the numbers he taught.
In an instant, both girls let go of each other and faced the balding man. "No, sir," they said in unison.
"Good," he answered with a stiff nod. "I'd hate to have to inform Ms. Landy that two of her girls were fighting the day before Field Day." He then continued down the sidewalk.
Regina took a few steps back, having composed herself in Coleman's presence. "Also doesn't matter how much you grow if you're still built like a cutting board," she said, and then stalked off laughing.
Melanie stood there for a moment, watching her go, then felt her roommate step up alongside her. "Hey, don't worry about it, Mel. Two inches is still something." But she couldn't help but notice how preoccupied the blonde girl now looked. Also not a good sign that she hadn't thrown out any retorts as Regina was walking away.
"Maybe she's right," Mel said, and moved back under the tree, slumping down beneath its shade.
Kimberly quickly got down on her knees next to her. "Hey, come on, Mel…"
"I mean, it's great I'm gonna be getting all new clothes, but… still no bras. I look around and I see other girls growing out now, not just Regina and her crew." She looked down, and put her hands on own chest, feeling how flat it was beneath her blouse and vest. "And I've still got nothing."
Kim put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I haven't started growing them either, Mel. We're only twelve, and remember what Landy told us: everyone's body is different. She also gave us those lessons on hormones and stuff. Maybe our own hormones just haven't, you know, kicked on yet. But they will."
Melanie nodded, and put her hands down. "And when they do, hopefully we'll each get a set of jugs that will make Horse Face cry."
"I hope not," Kimberly said with a shudder. "I'd rather not have the attention that would get me. I really don't want boys coming up to hit on me every five minutes."
"Because you're weird," Melanie said with a chuckle. "And anyway, the school is all-girl. So you wouldn't have to worry about it on weekdays."
Their moment was then interrupted by Candace's voice over the PA, instructing the next girl to report to the nurse's office for their physical. Kimberly grabbed her book and then stood back up. "Come on, let's go find the other three and see if they've been to Gladys yet."
"Okay," Melanie said, and the two started down the sidewalk, the small blonde feeling just a little better. Her displeasure at her pituitary gland aside, she was two inches taller.
Saturday, June 20th
The day before had been a bittersweet one. When Melanie had come back to her room from dinner, she found several new clothes stacked and folded on her bed: school uniforms, gym uniforms, casual clothes, sleepwear, socks, shoes and underwear, all to replace the clothes she'd outgrown. She was feeling good until Ms. Wallace appeared behind her, holding a black garbage bag.
"Okay, darlin', you'll have to put that away before lights out," she'd said. "Just stick anything that doesn't fit anymore in here."
The excitement of getting new clothes died a little when Wallace passed Melanie the empty trash bag. Kimberly could see the look of discomfort on her roommate's face as she filled it with her old clothes. "It reminds me of the foster homes," was all Melanie said when she noticed Kim's questioning look.
But that unpleasantness was short-lived, once Melanie started putting the new wardrobe away. And now she was seated in the McDonald's in Burlington, about to celebrate what had so far been a good month. Her team might have lost Capture the Flag last week, but Melanie had managed to get gold in Hurdles, plus… she'd grown two inches, and would hopefully continue that streak in the coming years.
The smile on her face faded, however, when Kimberly came back to the table and set the brown tray down between them. Instead of their usual, the two had opted to split a twenty piece Chicken McNuggets, though Melanie was now wondering if that was a good idea.
"What the hell is this?"
"Dunno. I think it has something to do with that Disney movie that came out yesterday. Least that's what the posters in here all say."
Melanie frowned at the container on the tray. Instead of its usual red and white cardboard design, the box looked more like a Chinese take-out carton. "But this is so stupid. We eat Chinese all the time. McNuggets are not Chinese. Why are they putting them in this box?"
"Because the movie is set in China," Kimberly answered with a shrug, and took one of the golden, deep-fried food enigmas from the box. "Guess that's why they have this new sauce, too."
Her roommate also took a nugget, and looked at the small containers of sauce that had been included. "Szechuan?" She peeled back the foil that sealed the top, dipped her finger in the concoction that lay beneath. Her frown became more pronounced after she tasted it. "This ain't Szechuan. It's bland diarrhea."
Kimberly opened another of the sauces, dunked her nugget, and tried it for herself. "I think it's okay."
"I think your taste buds are dead."
"Well, maybe they're not as good as yours. I know spicy food doesn't affect you."
Melanie dipped her own nugget in the sauce to try it that way, and liked it even less. "Well, yeah, I know it doesn't affect me, but that doesn't mean that I don't know something is supposed to be spicy when I eat it. Like, I can still taste that. I just don't get burned. Which is why I usually order Szechuan beef. This stuff isn't even close to Szechuan."
Kimberly laughed, picked up some of her fries, and dunked them in the sauce. "It's McDonald's. Were you expecting that?"
"It just… irks me. If you're not gonna make real Szechuan, don't call it Szechuan."
"I think you're reading way too much into this, Mel. But I also think it's amusing."
Melanie managed a small smirk at her. "Fine. You be amused while you enjoy your bland diarrhea sauce. I'm gonna go get some real sauce." She got up from the table and returned a few minutes later with some containers of Sweet and Sour, and also Barbecue.
"I ate my share of the nuggets while you were in line," Kimberly told her as she was sitting back down. "So the rest are yours."
"Did they taste good dipped in that runny dog shit they call Szechuan?" Melanie laughed and opened one of her own sauces.
"Actually, they did," Kimberly answered around a mouthful of fries.
"You're welcome to it. At least it's only for a limited time."
"But see, that's why they're smart. Just makes people want to buy it more."
"Maybe. I just hope that in the future, mouth-breathing idiots don't start riots to try and get McDonalds to make more of it. That ever happens, I might have to find those people and cut their balls off." Melanie shuddered, and started to eat her own nuggets.
"I swear, Mel, the shit that goes through your mind sometimes," Kimberly said. Melanie glanced up to find the black-haired girl giving her an odd stare. Then Kimberly started to laugh, which confused Mel even more.
"What?" She asked, but her roommate wouldn't stop, and finally, Melanie sputtered, and began to laugh with her.
"Hey, girls, what'd we miss?" The two heard Layla ask by the time the moment had nearly passed, and they turned to see her and Zoey standing over the table with their own tray of food.
"You don't wanna know," Kimberly said. "But please, take a seat."
They took the remaining seats at the prefab table, and Melanie nodded at their trays. "Ah, you girls didn't get the McNuggets. Smart."
Zoey paused in unwrapping her Quarter Pounder. "There a story behind this?"
"Yeah," said Kim. "But first, I need you to try something. Here, taste this."
So Zoey and Layla each dipped a French fry in what was left of the Szechuan sauce. "I like it," said Layla.
"Me too," said her friend. "I might see if we can get some for our fries."
"Guess you're beaten on this one, Mel," Kimberly chided, and took a sip of her soda.
"Don't know the meaning of the word," Melanie said. "It just means I'm the only one here who doesn't like dipping their McNuggets in cold diarrhea. I'd say that's a win."
Kim shrugged at the other two girls. "This is why I love her," she said, and when the three of them laughed, Melanie once again couldn't resist joining in.
ADDITIONAL NOTES
Roy Focker – character from Super Dimension Fortress Macross. Most people in America know him as Roy Fokker, which was his name in the Western adaptation of SDFM, which was re-titled Robotech: The Macross Saga. But I'm sure you all knew that. Kim is hardcore, so I think she'd watch the original.
And Yo-Yo Ball is an actual thing. I don't remember it actually working as advertised, though.
The store Melanie described in the Cascade Mall is based off an actual store called Trash American Style in Danbury, Connecticut, which I visited several times when I lived in the small town adjacent to Danbury.
And speaking of Danbury, the Danbury Fair Mall was a staple of my childhood and teen years. And they had a Nathan's. Those are the best hot dogs in existence, in case you didn't know, and their cheese fries are also awesome, and come with that two-pronged red plastic skewer I described, so you don't have to dirty your hands eating them.
According to my research, the Tortoise album "TNT" came out March 10, 1998. Google it if you'd like to know more. I heard a few tracks, and thought it was pretty good, but not everyone shares my taste in music. ( ;
Tdap booster – stands for "Tetanus, diphtheria, pertussis." According to what I've researched, it's recommended that a child get a vaccine booster for these when they're around the age of twelve, which is how old Melanie is in 1998.
Sad truth time: most children, when moving out of a foster home, are in fact given a garbage bag to put their belongings in. : (
The release date for the animated movie "Mulan" was June 19th, 1998. Like a lot of people, I remember that period in 2017 where people went crazy after seeing the episode of Rick and Morty where Rick mentioned the Szechuan sauce. I was seventeen when that movie came out, and I remembered the commercials for it, but I never tried the sauce back then. Even if I had, I wouldn't be rioting for it today. So of course, I had to poke fun at all the people who went crazy. Sorry, not sorry!
And that's all for now. Until next time, R and R. You know, if you want to.