"Mom, I'll be late for school today; I've got practice," Mel announced during breakfast.
"Practice? Isn't today the first day of school?" Katy questioned, her scepticism evident. She had reservations about Mel playing basketball, considering it a sport reserved for men.
"Yes, Mum. It's been a long summer, and we need to be fully prepared for the upcoming tournament," Mel replied.
Chubby picked at his breakfast, his expression serene as he sought refuge in the quiet of his own thoughts. The air around the table was thick with the weight of tense discussions bouncing back and forth between his mother and sister. With their Dad being out of the country, Chubby had no choice but to endure their ceaseless gibberish throughout the entire summer. Now, with the arrival of fall, he felt a subtle sense of relief as the season began to change.
At just four years younger than Mel, Chubby had always managed to maintain an air of maturity beyond his years. It was as if he had an innate understanding of the world that belied his age, allowing him to navigate the complexities of family dynamics and personal growth with a quiet wisdom that often surprised those around him.
"Let's get going, Mel. We'll miss the school bus," Chubby suggested, prompting their departure.
"You're a lifesaver, Clinton," Mel admitted gratefully as they left the house.
He knew he was, and her use of his full name indicated her genuine appreciation. The last thing Chubby wanted was a heated argument between Mel and Katy on the first day of school, especially since his father was out of the country, making him the de facto man of the house.
"Hey, Elsher! Loving the new curves; summer treated you well, huh?" Phoebe greeted as she reached out to touch Mel's hip.
"Love it, Melanie. Curves suit you perfectly," Penelope chimed in, her face glowing with admiration.
Phoebe and Pen were the anchors of Mel's high school life, her steadfast companions who added a touch of enchantment to her journey through Mayhill High. Though they each possessed their unique personalities, the unbreakable bond that bound the twins together was a marvel that Mel held close to her heart.
Pheebs, with her boldness and assertiveness, cast a captivating presence wherever she went. She stood as a force to be reckoned with at Mayhill High, her distinctive grey hair setting her apart in a league of her own. A black girl who proudly rocked her grey locks was a testament to her individuality. Leading the female basketball team, her skill and leadership were undeniable, a true embodiment of prowess that garnered respect from all corners.
On the other hand, Pen radiated elegance and grace in every step she took. Her status as Mayhill's premier ballet dancer was not just a title; it was a testament to her dedication and the ethereal quality she brought to the stage. She reigned not only within the school walls but across the entire region, a dazzling star that outshone others with her undeniable talent.
While being in the inner circle of the popular crowd certainly had its perks, Mel's connection with Phoebe and Pen transcended mere popularity. It was a bond that dug deeper, one that resonated with authenticity. How could it not? These remarkable girls occupied the pinnacle of popularity, yet their hearts remained open to her, an ordinary presence in their extraordinary lives.
"All right, ladies, how about we dial it down a notch?" Mel's voice carried a playful tone as she made her suggestion, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was keenly, even delightfully, aware of the alluring new curves that graced her figure. The summer had been a dedicated blur of strenuous workouts, all in anticipation of the imminent fall tournament. And lo and behold, the result was not only enhanced performance but also these enticing, unexpected curves that now adorned her physique.
"It's undeniable, girl! So, how was your summer?" Phoebe inquired as they walked to class.
"It was rather uneventful. I missed you both so much!" Mel confessed.
"We missed you too, girl!" they chorused in unison.
The twins always spent their summers travelling, leaving Mel to endure the quiet boredom in their absence.
"Mel! Pheebs! Pen!" Twelve, Pen's boyfriend, and the other girls cheered as they played basketball. It was a Mayhill tradition for the male and female teams to play against each other on the first day of school. The male basketball team at Mayhill was lacklustre, given their preference for soccer. Twelve's presence as a spectator for the girls' team didn't sit well with the boys' team, but considering Mel and Phoebe were playing, he knew better.
Twenty minutes into the game, the girls were leading 80-0, most of the points contributed by Mel and Phoebe. The boys' team was on the verge of giving up.
Amidst the cheering crowd, Mel's concentration wavered when she noticed a peculiar figure in a black hoodie. Though his face was obscured, his presence was oddly distracting.
Mel was about to execute an overhead pass when she noticed a peculiar figure in a black hoodie. She couldn't see his face, but he was a noticeable distraction.
"Mel, what's the holdup? Pass the ball already!" a teammate urged, snapping her out of her reverie. She passed the ball, but when she turned her gaze back to the mysterious figure, he was gone. She scanned the area, but he had vanished.
The game concluded with a score of 98-79 in favour of the girls.
"Are you okay, Elsher?" Phoebe asked while changing in the locker room. Calling her by her last name was a familiar habit for Phoebe, and it always sounded cool.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a slight headache, I think," Mel replied.
She had to say something; Phoebe could read her too well for a simple "it's nothing" to suffice.
"Sure about that? You seemed off towards the end of the game," Phoebe pressed.
"It's just a headache. I'll grab some meds later," Mel reassured her.
"All right, let's get ice cream. It might help," Phoebe suggested.
"Did someone say ice cream?" Pen chimed in as she and Twelve walked in, each with a scoop of ice cream.
"Oh, Pen, you're an angel," Mel gushed as she accepted the ice cream.
"You girls played amazingly, as always. I missed watching you play," Pen exclaimed, playfully bowing.
After parting ways with her friends, Mel arrived home to find her mother, Katy, tending to the garden.
"Practice was that fulfilling, huh?" Katy inquired while trimming the flowers.
"Yes, Mum, it was. By the way, where's Chubby? And why are you gardening at this hour?" Mel queried.
"He's in his room. He got home earlier. I was waiting for your return," Katy replied, avoiding direct eye contact.
"I did tell you I'd be late, didn't I? Plus, the twins dropped me off. It's safe," Mel said her tone firm.
"Right, right. I'm heading inside now," Katy complied, retreating indoors.
As Mel meticulously readied herself to
close the door, a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. A boy, his features obscured by a black hoodie, stood enigmatically across the road. A momentary pause gripped her as the door's lock engaged, a knot of uneasiness tightening in her gut. Questions danced on the edges of her thoughts—was this stranger genuinely tailing her, or was it just an innocent passerby? Should she allow apprehension to take hold, or dismiss it as mere paranoia?
After a fleeting internal debate, Mel chose the latter course of action. A decision to keep her mother in the dark about her unsettling discovery was made with calculated precision. Mel was well aware that her mother possessed a proclivity for magnifying even the smallest of concerns into full-blown crises. Thus, Mel decided it best to handle this situation on her own, sparing her mother unnecessary distress.
"Mel, let's plan a movie night this weekend," Pen suggested during lunch the next day.
"Sounds delightful," Mel agreed, the prospect of quality time with her friends bringing a smile to her face.
Later that day, the girls went to the cinema to watch "Do Revenge."
"I loved that movie, Pen. It was amazing," Mel gushed as they exited the theatre.
"Of course, my movie choices are always spot on," Pen responded with a confident grin.
All right, the movie's over. Time to head home," Pheebs said.
"Oh, Pheebs, you're such a joy killer," Pen teased.
"Whatever. I'm going to get the car ready," Pheebs said, heading out.
"Next time I'm bringing my car," Twelve teased.
"Sure thing, big guy," Pheebs replied before she left.
"We're gonna get chocolates," Pen and Twelve announced as they hurried away.
Mel contemplated joining them, but she quickly recalled that getting chocolates together was a Pen and Twelve thing—a tacit understanding.
Deciding to stay behind, she settled down in the lobby and waited for them.
"Hey, Mel. Can I borrow your tripod? Your room is locked," Chubby's voice broke through her reverie as he called.
"You want to film a TikTok dance, right?" Mel started to say, but her attention was diverted by a familiar figure—the boy in the black hoodie—on the other side of the glass.
"I'll talk to you later, Chubby," Mel hurriedly ended the call.
Exiting the cinema, she instinctively followed the boy's path. Determined not to lose him this time, she was on a mission to uncover his identity and motivations. She soon realized she was venturing further away from familiar surroundings.
He finally came to a halt at a dimly lit corner, casting a shadow of uncertainty over Mel. She felt a twinge of fear creeping in—what if he was a serial killer, and she had unknowingly walked right into his trap? However, she brushed aside these unsettling thoughts and decided to confront him directly.
"Who are you, and why have you been following me?" Mel demanded as she confronted the boy.
He initially didn't respond, his back turned toward her. Frustration mounting, Mel approached him to pull down his hoodie and reveal his face. But before she could make contact, he swiftly turned and grabbed her hand.
Startled, Mel found herself in a precarious situation. She had allowed her curiosity to lead her into a dark corner, isolated from help. Yet, she refused to show her fear, drawing on her knowledge of crime documentaries that advised against giving in to panic.
"Let go of me!" she exclaimed, freeing herself from his grasp.
"I apologize for holding you so tightly," he offered, his voice surprisingly soothing.
"Answer my question—just who are you, and why have you been trailing me?" Mel demanded again.
"I assure you, I'm not a serial killer. I simply find you intriguing," he admitted.
"You may not be a serial killer, but your behaviour is seriously creepy," Mel retorted sceptically.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you. I just fancy you," he continued.
"You fancy me?" Mel's guarded tone challenged a mixture of confusion and irritation in her voice. "I have no idea who you are or why you've been creepily following me around, and you say you fancy me? Fancying me doesn't excuse stalking behaviour."
"You're right," he conceded, his demeanour softening. "It was wrong of me. I won't bother you again."
Just then, Phoebe's voice cut through the tension. "Mel! Where have you been?"
Turning towards her friend, Mel noticed the boy had vanished once again.
"He was just here," Mel insisted, frustration and confusion mingling in her words.
"Perhaps he ran off. Are you okay? Did he try to harm you?" Phoebe's concern was palpable.
"I'm all right now. It was foolish of me to follow him alone," Mel admitted, a sense of gratitude washing over her at Phoebe's presence.
As they made their way back to the car, Mel acknowledged her impulsiveness and recklessness. "Please don't tell Pen and Twelve what happened earlier. I don't want them to worry, you know how Pen can be," she confided to Phoebe.
"Where were you guys? We got chocolates a while ago, and you were nowhere in sight," Pen questioned as the group reunited.
"We took a short walk, so you two lovebirds could enjoy your chocolate-getting time," Phoebe explained, a mischievous grin on her face.
Chuckles erupted from Pen and Twelve, who had no idea about Mel's escapade.
During the ride home, Mel found herself lost in thought, replaying the events of the evening. His name eluded her, but she had at least managed to etch his face into her memory. His words echoed hauntingly: "I'm not a serial killer; I just fancy you." Could there be a hint of truth to that odd statement? Where had their paths crossed before? These questions lingered in her mind, unanswered.
"His voice was calm, soft, and tender," she mused to herself. She had indeed taken in the details: his slightly tousled, curly hair, hazel eyes that seemed to hold secrets, and a sprinkle of freckles that added to his charm. She pondered intensely, racking her brain to recall any prior sightings of him. Eventually, she concluded that his face was too captivating to be easily forgotten. If they had crossed paths earlier, she was sure she'd remember.
Seated in the passenger's seat as Phoebe drove, Mel snapped out of her reverie. TikTok videos blared from the backseat, where Twelve and Pen were immersed in their digital world.
"The movie wasn't enough for you guys, was it?" Phoebe's voice broke through, addressing the distant look on Mel's face.
Mel returned to the present, her thoughts reining in the romanticized notions that had begun to form. Why was she idealizing someone who had essentially been stalking her? Even with his attractive appearance and captivating voice, the encounter was undeniably unsettling. Creepy had never translated to anything positive.
Upon arriving home, Mel's cautious eyes scanned her surroundings, half-expecting to find the boy lurking somewhere nearby. Yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps her confrontation had dissuaded him, or perhaps his intentions had been misunderstood from the beginning. As she settled in for the night, the encounter remained a perplexing memory, intricately woven into her thoughts about the approaching school day.