"I thought I smelled ya!"
If Maeve had heard this from anyone else and without all the context she had now, she might have punched the girl. She remained dazed for a moment before some of the customers began showing expressions she knew all too well; they were the ominous signs of impatience.
'Oh God,' she thought. The girl behind the counter was beaming and she gave her hands a few – presumably – affectionate squeezes. Her joy couldn't be understated.
Chris was looking at the two girls weirdly, and Maeve, who quickly made to dispel the odd atmosphere, gave him a guilty smile. She didn't like it, but it had to be done.
"Would you cover for me for a bit?" she said.
Maeve had half-expected to see Chris roll his eyes, but as always, he gave a curt warm nod that only made Maeve's guilt mount.
But to hell with guilt!
She rushed out the staff door and the plump girl with the piercings followed her outside the establishment. Once the healthy sun dyed them both wholly, the plump girl spoke:
"Boy, was it hard to find you. I couldn't figure out where you worked. Dang, you're literally perfect."
The girl spun around Maeve, turning her head, caressing her face, coiling her hair and putting her face uncomfortably close to Maeve's.
Maeve recoiled, but not rudely. She let out a few awkward chuckles, surprised that she was tolerating all this contact. The distinct scent of vinegar and moist dirt from this new girl, obviously a werewolf like her, grew bolder and stronger, but not unpleasant. Maeve suspected it was the reason she wasn't losing it right now.
'Is this how werewolves smell? But how come I didn't smell anything from Aaron and Ryan?' she wondered.
After the plump girl began limning Maeve's curves, she (Maeve) decided she had had enough.
"Alright, I think that's about as much probing as I can handle," she said with a fake polite smile while seizing her counterpart's roaming hands. "Who are you? And why does it sound like you've been looking for me?"
The plump girl made a confused duck face and then realisation seemed to dawn on her about something. She flicked strands of her orange hair away from her ear.
"Right, right. There I go again, making hard assumptions. Sorry," she said and suddenly turned away, disregarding Maeve's presence. Her brown eyes were roaming wildly. "He didn't say he'd tell you I was coming to meet you, did he? Makes sense, really. He was very vague about a lot of things, now that I think about it. My excitement must have—"
"Excuse me!" Maeve said with a clap, and the plump seemed to remember that this wasn't a dream.
"Ah, right. Sorry, sorry. I'm Melanie. You can call me Mel," Melanie said with a grin and grabbed Maeve's hands again. It took all of Maeve's willpower to not seize those adventurous hands in turn. "These two dudes I met recently told me about you and the general areas where I could find you. Ryan and uh… uh…"
"Aaron?" Maeve finished the sentence with a dumbfounded look.
"That's right!"
"Those assholes…" Maeve said breathlessly. She was far from being upset, however. She sensed the hidden kindness in the plot. Melanie had been led to her for both their own good, if she was interpreting this story right.
"What did they tell you? When did you first meet them? Tell me everything."
Melanie beamed.
"Well long story short, they wouldn't tell me where you lived or where you worked for some reason. Weird dudes. They just told me about spots where I was likely to find you. And I've only known them for about a week," she said.
Maeve sighed.
Damn that Aaron and his dumb considerate, chivalrous kink, she thought.
He was doing all he could to not invade her personal space without consent or whatever. That's why he made sure Melanie wouldn't turn up at her apartment or at the Pages unannounced, the bastard.
This was definitely the kind of contradictory, obnoxiously sweet behaviour you'd expect from someone who cleaned a female stranger's apartment for a first impression.
"Let's take a little walk," Maeve said.
As she and Melanie walked down the street, the plump girl waxed on and on about 'everything', giving the meaty version of the short story she had given earlier. Most of it was fluff that gave Maeve a clear and quick understanding of the type of girl Melanie was, but some of it was very valuable.
Maeve slowed to a stop as they reached a bus stop.
"Wait. They what?" she said, surprised.
The bright smile on Melanie's face drowned in hidden darkness.
"Ah, right. They told me you're a late bloomer with strange circumstances. You probably don't understand all this stuff yet, huh?" she said gloomily. "I… uh, I don't really have an Alpha who's got their eye on me. With what I heard from Aaron and Ryan, that's practically a death sentence in Glendale these days. I got cornered by a few vampires days ago. Literally thought I was gonna die. I'd never smelled a vampire before. I froze. If they hadn't taken their time toying with me…"
Maeve gulped audibly. Her mind wandered but she held strong. She held Melanie's shoulder.
The plump girl immediately beamed, but Maeve saw through her, though she pretended as though she didn't notice.
"Aaron and Ryan saved me just in time. I've been hanging out with them ever since. Oh," she said and fully exposed the black tattoo on her neck. It was shaped like a flaming wolf, sinking into itself. "I got this right after the night I was attacked. It makes me feel strong and safe."
"I see." Maeve studied it. It wasn't a bad tattoo by any means. It was one of those abstract types. Its design gave her many thoughts.
"So, you've been a werewolf for a while, right?" she said in a low voice as they passed a couple wearing matching pants. Melanie's eyes lingered on the two and she purred, but when Maeve clapped, she snapped back to the conversation.
"Oh, yeah. I had my Howling when I was sixteen. It was magical. My parents had been preparing for it. I modelled my tattoo after my wolf," she said proudly.
'It's as I thought.' Maeve wore a look of interest.
"Did you dream about a wolf too?" she asked.
Melanie gave a comical laugh.
"I literally keep forgetting you're new to this," she said.
'I noticed.'
"So, you dreamt one?"
"Yeah. And it's not a wolf. It's your wolf. Mine was riding the clouds while wreathed in fire. I wrote a whole poem about it. Wanna see?"
Maeve faked a smile. Melanie seemed nice, but she was about as draining as a vacuum.
"You know what? If you're not in too much of a hurry, how about you wait for me. We'll talk more after work. Sound good?"
Melanie beamed.
"That's literally perfect!"
'Could do without the literally, but okay.' Maeve thought. By the time she was back behind the counter in her fast food joint, a subtle smile was swimming on her face.