Knowing each other better, Morticia and Phoebe were almost inseparable. Even Ophelia was starting to get jealous of the time Morticia spent with Phoebe.
"... barely home, Morticia!" Ophelia cried out early in the morning of the Saturday after their first week of school.
"Ophelia, do not be ridiculous," Morticia replied softly. She knew better than to fight with her sister this early in the morning, especially when the night before, she had an argument with Christian.
"I am not being ridiculous! I am stating the fact that you are barely home!" her sister cried out, clearly hysterical for reasons Morticia cannot fathom.
"I am just going to meet my friend and do our assignments together in the library," Morticia explained.
"But I never got the chance to talk to you. I do not even know how your first week went," Ophelia insisted.
Morticia sighed. "Ophelia, you are becoming like Mother. Remember the times she would pester you about your day in school? Well, you are doing that to me right now." She paused and looked at the frustrated face of her sister and felt a pang of pity. "Oh, alright then. I will just fetch Phoebe in the library and we will come here. We'll do our assignments here in the house. I suppose you should do yours as well."
"Thank you, Morticia!" Ophelia happily cried. She flung her arms around her sister and hugged her rather tightly. But then again, Morticia recalled, Ophelia had judo lessons before.
"Unhand me, Ophelia. I cannot breathe," Morticia gasped.
"Oh, don't talk nonsense!" Ophelia exclaimed. "The reason why you cannot breathe is because you insist on wearing that iron-lung of a corset!"
Scowling at her sister's remark, though quite relieved that finally she forgot being so much like her mother and a teenage brat combined, Morticia put down her bag and left the house, waving at her sister who was following her movements through the window.
While she was walking, she saw at the corner of her eye, a shadow in the trees. She hastily eyed the trees but saw nothing. Persistent to identify the shadow that was following her for the past week, Morticia went to the trees and inspected the area, and still saw nobody. She was about to give up searching when she heard a twig snap, followed by an almost inaudible gasp.
"Who is there?" she asked. Just as what she expected, no one replied. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Morticia decided to let whoever was following her to continue following her until he got the nerve to confront her. Not that she was proud or anything, but Morticia was not afraid, especially if the person following her was just a regular human. After all, she knew several spells that can inflict damage to attackers. She just hoped that she would not need to use them.
She barely reached the library when three young men accosted her. They did not do anything to her, but they made sure that she cannot pass through them. They were big and muscular, and looked quite brutal, but it did not faze Morticia. She eyed them patiently, waiting for them to move aside and let her pass. However, none of them seemed to want to.
"Let me pass," she coldly said after sometime.
"We'd rather not let you," the one in the middle said. He visibly flexed the muscles on his arms and chest to prove his point.
"Why shouldn't you?" she questioned, letting her boredom show in each word she enunciate. She crossed her arms in front of her and stared at the three men impassively.
"To be honest, we can actually let you pass," the young man on the right said.
"However, we want something in return," the one on the left said. "Ah, let me correct myself: we want something from you and we can let you pass in return."
"I do not have anything with me," Morticia replied.
"Oh, we believe you do," the one in the middle, obviously the leader, said. Again, he flexed his muscles, as if trying to impress her. But she merely raised an eyebrow.
"What is it then?" she asked. After a pause, she added, for she cannot stop herself. "You know, you cannot impress or frighten me by flexing your muscles. I know many things that can scare your wits out, making you forget all about your silly little bodies."
"Little bodies, you say?" the second man said. His eyes bulged angrily, but the leader of the trio put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"I see that you are indeed cheeky," he said. "Natalie was right."
Morticia further raised an eyebrow.
"Natalie was the girl you and your monster of a friend insulted during class," he said, answering her unvoiced question.
"Oh, I see that she sent her body guards to return the favor, then," she replied, sneering slightly. "Pathetic."
"What did you say?" the third man said. Before any of his friends could stop him, he marched towards Morticia, raising a huge fist. But then, out of nowhere, or so it seemed to Morticia, a man wearing a pinstriped suit came. He took the assailant's fist and, despite his size which was a lot slighter than the former, judo flipped him over his shoulder. Morticia's attacker landed hard on his back on the pavement.
The other two muscular men froze as they were about to lunge forward the mysterious man who came to Morticia's rescue. Apparently, they thought that he was just some idiotic young man, trying to stop them from avenging Morticia's rudeness towards this girl named Natalie. After some contemplation, they decided to heave their almost unconscious companion from the ground and leave Morticia and the other man behind. They flashed them sharp glares as they left.
The other man flashed a smile to Morticia. "Are you alright?"
Not daring to look at the man's face, Morticia stalked off, leaving the man staring at her retreating figure with his mouth hanging open in shock.
"I am not a damsel in distress. I do not need your help," she said over her shoulder, feeling insulted for being rescued. Who the man thought he was, coming to her aid, she angrily thought. With the right spell, she could have simply sent away the man who was trying to attack her. But of course, some obtuse man, wanting to look like a hero interfered.
"Morticia, are you alright?" Phoebe said as she saw her friend approach with her face livid.
"A dim-witted young man thought I needed saving from some similarly unintelligent bulky assailants," she replied, still seething. "My sister, Ophelia wants to meet you. She was hoping we can stay in the house instead of here in the library."
"Alright," Phoebe replied. She eyed her warily, trying to gauge her emotions. "You were assaulted on your way here?"
"Yes," Morticia answered. They started walking back to the direction of Morticia and Ophelia's home. "By Natalie's cronies."
"Who is Natalie?" Phoebe asked, racking her brains if Morticia had already mentioned the name before. As hard as she tried, no bell rang.
"Your bully," Morticia replied shortly. She looked behind her as she felt her nape prickling once again. "Oh, I wish that person would stop doing that!"
"Uh… what?"
"Of course, I have not told you. But I think I am being followed."
"By whom?"
"I do not know, but I know someone is. I keep on seeing his shadow."
"Well, do not worry about him – or her at the moment,"
"Right, because my sister would surely give me more things to think about when we arrive at our home."
Daring not to challenge her friend when she is quite feisty, Phoebe decided to keep quiet on their uneventful journey to Morticia's place. They were all actually quiet when they started doing their work; even Ophelia felt the hostility reverberating through her sister and also dared not utter a single word.
Even Christian, who seemed to have made up with Ophelia in Morticia's absence, and was doing his own assignment with the other three, dared not flirt with Ophelia, seeing Morticia seething with anger. Frankly, everyone was relieved when they finally finished their work. Phoebe bid them a hasty goodbye and declined Morticia's offer of accompanying her home.
"It's okay, Morticia. I can manage," she said as she waved goodbye.
"I will go to my room now," Morticia said. She climbed the stairs to her room and locked herself up in her room.
"What's with her?" Christian asked Ophelia once her sister was out of earshot.
"Phoebe told me that Morticia was insulted after she was helped by a man," Ophelia replied. She started cleaning up the little mess they made earlier.
"And what is wrong with that?" Christian asked frowning. He took the trash from Ophelia and placed it in the trash bin.
"Well, Morticia likes to operate alone," she replied.
"Oh, I see," he commented, though clearly in his eyes, he could not understand at all.
When Monday came, Morticia's irritation waned a little. But upon seeing Natalie and her friends, she became livid again. Phoebe did not come to class either, which worried her on top of her anger. She was a bit distracted with the emotions she was feeling that she was not able to pay attention to any of her classes. Fortunately, their professors decided not to have the usual recitation and gave them readings instead, allowing Morticia's mind to wander aimlessly.
At sound of the final bell, her anger turned into frustration. She knew that she had been shutting her sister out the whole weekend and decided to let off steam by going to the other library, which was opportunely located at the other side of the campus. This gave Morticia a lot of time to assess her feelings.
By the time she reached the library, her mind was finally calm. She chose to ignore the man who helped her and forget all about Natalie, unless of course she and her friends started picking on Phoebe and her again.
She entered the library which was a lot smaller than the one near her house. Given its size, it took Morticia a short while to browse the shelves and found nothing that interested her. To be honest, after clearing her mind, she was not really into finding something to read. With a confused look from a middle aged librarian, Morticia left.
The moment she stepped outside, heavy rain poured. Morticia had not umbrella with her and it would feel quite foolish for her to return in the library, sopping wet but without any intentions of reading anything. Also, the heaviness of the rain seemed that it would last for several hours, so she started walking home.
"You wouldn't mind me offering to drive you home, would you?" a vaguely familiar voice of a man said from just behind Morticia. She turned around and tried to see the man talking to her.
"Have we met?" she asked eyeing the man's pinstriped suit.
"'I am not a damsel in distress. I do not need your help,'" the man said, repeating Morticia's anguished line from just two days ago. He smiled at her, "I guess that could count as a meeting."
"That was you…" she said softly. "I am sorry, I was just…"
"It's alright," the man said. He gestured to the pouring rain, "I would really rather have you ride with me."
"Why?" she asked.
"I cannot let you walk all the way home," he said to which she raised a curious eyebrow. Then he added quickly, "Not that I know where you live. But the rain is too heavy."
"I suppose so," Morticia replied. "And perhaps I owe you an apology."
"Never mind that," the man said dismissively. "My car is this way."
They walked, or jogged, rather for a short distance in a quite awkward silence. Morticia was unsure of what to say, and he also seemed unsure, though there was a visible bounce in his every step. They stopped in front of a relatively old Duisenberg. He opened the passenger seat for Morticia, smiling shyly at her.
She returned his smile and slid inside the car. He gently closed the car door and sprinted towards the driver's side. He entered the car, started the engine, and drove away. They were quiet for some time, but it was not as awkward as earlier, in fact Morticia felt inexplicably comfortable. The young man reached to the backseat and grabbed a woolly towel. He handed it to Morticia.
"Thank you," she said", accepting the towel. "And I am sorry for dowsing your car with rain water.
"It's alright," he replied, smiling at her again.
"How silly of me, you have not dried yourself," Morticia said, returning the now wet towel to him. She smiled at him sheepishly.
"I'm okay," he said, glancing at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. Morticia noted that he seemed to know where she lives, although she cannot remember telling him where. She had a vague feeling that she now knew who was shadowing her for the past few days. However, before she could say anything, he spoke up, "I was trying to catch cold, anyway. And I would rather not have you sick."
"Really?" Morticia asked. She peered at him inquiringly and thought that she saw his neck flushed.
"I mean…" his voice faltered. "Of course, you would not want to get sick, would you?"
"It might be quite fine," she replied. "As long as it would be more than the common cold. Pneumonia, perhaps?"
"I see your point," he said, impressed that she was share his, what other people would call 'peculiarity'.
"Might I ask you something?" she asked.
"Of course," he answered. "Anything."
"Were you tailing me?" she asked, not batting an eyelid, nor showing signs of hesitance.
"Could you forgive me?" he asked after a minute or two of silence. His voice was very remorseful. He slowed his driving and looked at Morticia straight in the eyes, his warm brown meeting her cold blues ones. Quite surprising Morticia, she felt herself feeling more comfortable with his presence. To be more specific, she enjoyed looking at his eyes.
"Perhaps," Morticia found herself saying. She found herself staring at his handsome features. She liked how his black hair was pomaded, though it was remotely out-of-fashion these days. His pencil mustache quivered in delight as he smiled at her response. The way he smiled at her brought at different emotion to Morticia, one that she has not felt before nor she can explain.
"I suppose you live alone?" the man casually asked.
From his tone, Morticia knew that he was just trying to start a conversation. But vaguely, she knew that he knows the answer to his own question. She verbalized this thought, "I believe you know that I live with my sister."
The man looked quite sheepish, but tried to regain himself by saying, "Well, I suppose one should not be outspoken about what he knows. Especially if it was discovered through stealth."
Morticia smirked. "Perhaps you noticed that I saw you lurking, haven't you?"
"I tried my best not to be identified," he admitted.
"You did quite well, actually. I only saw your shadow and nothing more."
"Lucky me, I should say."
Morticia did not respond. They rode quietly for a while.
"If you do not mind me asking –" Morticia spoke up, which he candidly interrupted.
"I would not mind. Fire away any question you have in mind," he said.
She smiled. "What else have you learned about me?"
He returned her smile with, if was even possible, a boyish grin. "Well, I suppose you do not know that you were –"
"– sitting right next to you in the library last week? I remembered," she interrupted, waving vaguely at Gomez's suit.
"I see that you remembered due to it being fashion outdated."
Morticia stared at him indignantly. "It is quite harsh for you to presume that. If I may say so, I think that it looks unique. Classy, to be specific. That was how I remembered you."
"I'm sorry," he said, slightly bowing his head. "And thank you. It is rare to meet someone who appreciates my choice of clothing."
"My sentiments, exactly," she replied, choosing to ignore his previous comment. Her tone however, was a bit crisp than she intended to. To hide it, she decided to change the subject. "How was your essay?"
"How did you know that I was working on an essay?" he incredulously asked.
"There were a pile of books in front of you. And the waste bin below your desk was full of crumpled papers. I only assumed that you were doing an essay."
"You are sharp!"
"I pay close attention to my surroundings," she replied and pressed on, "Well, what else do you know about me?"
"Beverly, the librarian, told me that you are a freshman Literature student," he replied with a sad tone in his voice.
This did not go unnoticed by Morticia, given that, as she said, she pays close attention to details. "You said the word 'freshman' rather sadly."
"I am in my last year of college, you see. I study Political Science."
"Interesting choice," she commented. "Do you have ambitions of becoming a politician?"
"My dreams are… out of sorts at the moment."
"I see… but then shouldn't you be delighted that you are finishing college at last?" she asked, looking at him intently, trying to gauge him. This caused him to have a bit of a hard time focusing on the road ahead of them. "After all, your last year in college only means that you will soon be free from the walls of education. You can do whatever you want! Well, of course, that is if you were not able to have such freedom before."
He chuckled though in a humorless manner which further intrigued Morticia. "I live a rather… complicated life, you see. My liberty was not the usual. All because of my doing, of course."
"Another commonality for the both of us," she said, realizing how they are alike in some ways. "Well, except for it being my fault."
"Oh, I see," he replied. He slowed the car into a stop and peered at her. He smiled. "We're here."
She was about to return his rather charming smile but his last statement shook her up. She looked out of the window and saw that the hard rain is no more than a drizzle now, and that they have indeed reached her house. She looked back at him.
"Did Miss Charles also divulge my address?" she teasingly asked.
"No," he shook his head with another boyish grin. "To be honest, she was most reluctant to give it me. But of course, I had other means of finding out."
He abruptly left the car, leaving Morticia to murmur to herself, "Of course."
He opened the door for her and offered a hand. She took it but quickly let go as they walked to the porch. She can indistinctly see Ophelia lurking behind the screen door but paid her no attention.
"I shall be seeing you around," he said with a minimal hint of sadness in his voice. Quite surprising, Morticia felt the same way.
"Good night,"
"Good night, Morticia," the man said, kissing her hand before leaving.
"And who was that supposed to be?" Ophelia suddenly asked, her eyebrow raised way high as she emerged from inside of the house, startling Morticia.
Morticia distractedly waved at the mysterious man as he pulled away from the front of the house with a belch of smoke and a beep of the horn. She caressed the hand he kissed absently.
"I… I do not know his name…"
End of Chapter 6. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please help me with something, see the previous chapter to know more about my request. Thank you!