Young Writers Society

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Let’s eat.”

Melody laughed. "You're always hungry, Eric."

"Fast metabolism," he explained with a wink. "Doctor's words, not mine."

"Or you're just plain greedy."

Eric smirked. "That too."

"So what are you in the mood for?"

"Food," he replied simply. "I'm not picky. Just put it on my plate and I'll put it in my face."

Melody laughed. "That's what Lauren once told me."

"Well, she is my sister."

"Yes, she is." Melody smiled wickedly. She still hadn't forgotten Eric mentioning she was a cheerleader to his friends, and decided it was time to get even. "Speaking of Lauren, she told me a little story about when you were four and your brothers tricked you into eating a chocolate cake, only the chocolate part was actually dirt."

Eric's face flushed. "She told you about that, did she? Well ..." He cleared his throat, "I have a little story of my own. When we were eight our brothers convinced her that she was actually an alien. Every night they'd say that the sound of the airplanes was actually the sound of her alien parents looking for her in their spaceship. Lauren would run to Janet's room every night crying 'don't let them take me away!'"

Well that explains Eric's nickname for Lauren. Melody shook her head in amazement.

"Your brothers really are something, aren't they?"

"Trust me. You have no idea." He didn't elaborate any further. "Now let's eat."

"Yes, let's," Melody agreed.

Rubbing his hands together in excitement, Eric got up from the booth they were sitting at to order the food. "I'll be back in five."

Melody smirked. "I'll be surprised if it takes you that long."

He came back barely two minutes later, mainly because the owners had his usual memorized.

"How's this for a feast?" He smirked, as the waiters brought over baskets of chillie cheese fries, burgers and two medium pizzas.

"Smells delicious," Melody agreed.

Eric shot her a self-satisfied grin before setting a plate down in front of her and digging into his. Melody was about to start eating before a thought entered her mind which caused her to pause. She surveyed the diner. It had a 60s retro theme and something about it seemed eerily familiar. Sure, Eric had taken her here a few weeks ago, but there was something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

And then it dawned on her.

"Eric," she said quietly. "I think this is the same place where my parents used to eat."

"Really?" he asked, visibly taken aback by the sudden change in topic.

Melody nodded. "I remember my mom used to talk about it all the time, her favorite pizza place in her hometown. She and my dad would meet here all the time in the back It was the one of the only places they could be alone together. They spent so much time here, they had this one special booth in the back, and they carved their initials in it..."

Eric's eyes widened a little at that. "What if this booth is the one?"

"Then their initials will be on the right corner of the table, on the side where you get out. Kind of where you're sitting."

Eric dropped his knife and fork and scanned the corner of the table. Sure enough RG + ED was engraved discreetly on the outer edge of the table.

"There it is, Mel. You were right."

Instead of the amazement or amusement she expected, silence fell over Eric. He was staring at the engraved initials, and Melody realized that he was thinking about his own mother. She wished she could talk to him about it, but that wasn't possible. Not when she wasn't even supposed to know about his mother's death in the first place.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked gently.

Eric looked up and gave a halfhearted smirk. "I'm fine."

"Liar. What's bothering you?"

A hint of annoyance flashed across his face. "It's not important."

"Of course it is. Anything that bothers you is important to me. I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you want or need to talk."

He met her eyes for a long moment and Melody thought for a second he might actually open up to her, until he picked up his knife and fork again. "Noted. Now can we eat? I really am starving."

Melody sighed. He's not ready to talk about it. He won't. "Fine. But if you change your mind, my offer still stands"

He winked his appreciation before tucking into a slice of pizza. Melody rolled her eyes, but tucked into her pizza too.

Once they finished their meal, Melody decided it was time to begin with the lesson.

"Ready, Casanova?"

"I'm never ready for math. Hence the reason why I suck at it so much."

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we? What topic do you want to start with?"

Eric rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a thick blue textbook before sliding it across the table towards Mel. "Whatever's in here."

Melody raised an eyebrow, momentarily wondering what exactly she had signed up for. Sighing, she picked up the book and began flipping through it. "How about quadratics?" she suggested.

"Quad-what?"

"Quadratics. You know, an equation that has a variable that's squared?"

Eric rubbed the side of his neck in embarrassment. "I can't remember ..."

Melody nodded in understanding, giving him a patient look he hadn't seen when he was with Kelley. She moved closer to sit next to him, opening the book to the chapter on quadratics. "Well maybe if you see one, you'll remember." She pointed to an example problem. "Does this ring any bells?"

But Eric's eyes weren't on the book; they were on her. His eyes had that glazed look when Mrs. Bing was explaining how to waltz. She waved a hand in front of his face a few times. "Earth to Eric?"

"What perfume are you wearing?" he asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"What perfume are you wearing?" he repeated, as though it were perfectly normal the first time he said it.

Melody stared at him for a second. "Hawaiian Ginger, why?"

He smirked. "I have no idea what that is, but it smells good --"

Melody snapped her fingers. "Focus, Casanova. Now back to the quadratics ..." She pointedly tapped the textbook. "Does this problem look like one you've seen before?"

Eric looked bored already. "Maybe..."

With an unbelievable amount of patience, she began explaining the process to him. "So there are three ways to solve a quadratic. With factoring, the quadratic formula, completing the square."

Eric looked up in confusion. "Completing the square? Wasn't that what Mrs. Bing showed us?"

"No, that was completing the box." Melody paused, trying to devise a tactic to get Eric to focus. How about we start off with factoring. It's the easiest method, but sometimes, when you can't factor using FOIL, you have to use the quadratic formula. That is a little tricky. But we'll start with factoring." Melody flipped the pages until she found a question she was satisfied with. "Here, look at this problem, and see if you can figure out what they have in common."

Eric stared long and hard at the problem. Melody was hopeful he was on the verge to a breakthrough.

"They're all numbers?" he suggested unhelpfully.

"Yes," Melody agreed, "but what about them?"

Eric gave her a blank look.

"Look at the coefficients. There's a way to make the problem easier."

"Whoever invented algebra needs to be sent to jail," he grumbled, clearly struggling.

"He's already dead."

Eric muttered something that sounded like 'justice.'

Melody rolled her eyes. "Come on, focus. You're smart enough to figure this out."

Eric raised a brow at her. "I've been called a lot of things, Mel, but 'smart' was never one of them ..."

"I find that hard to believe. You probably just weren't paying attention."

"Well, maybe I would've paid attention if all my math tutors were as pretty as you," he answered simply.

Melody's heart lurched, realizing it was the first time he'd called her pretty. She covered her shock with a scoff. "Well how many math tutors have you had?"

"Well, there was you and this other girl ... can't really remember her name."

Melody smirked. "Funny, I can think of a few names for her."

Eric chuckled. "I'm not surprised. You can add them to Lauren's growing list."

"Oh, I am sure we could make a whole dictionary and put Webster to shame."

This time Eric laughed, placing a hand over his stomach as he leaned back and relaxed into the booth seat.

"Okay, Casanova. Back to business. Let's work one of these problems together, and then you can try the next on your own."

The smile instantly vanished from Eric's face, only to be replaced by nerves.

Melody analyzed the tight look on Eric's face, recognizing it as the same look he had when Mrs. Bing called them up to the stage. She realized it was a fear of failure or maybe even that she would think he was stupid.

She smiled encouragingly at him. "Here, this looks like a good problem that I could use some help solving. We can figure it out together. Are you up for the challenge?"

Eric sighed, rubbing the side of his neck. He looked anything but confident but still replied, "Always."

"I knew you would be. Okay, so here is how to approach this problem." Leaning closer to him, Melody began explaining the process. Eric listened intently this time, a frown of determined concentration forming on his face as he took in the information.

They finished up and Melody turned to look at Eric to see how he was processing everything. "Do you want to try on your own now?"

Eric nodded, all be it reluctantly, before taking the pen from her and leaning against the table. A few seconds passed with him simply staring at the page and Melody had a sinking feeling that he hadn't got it. Then suddenly, he began scribbling, frantically, biting his bottom lip as he did so. Finally, after another two or three seconds, he dropped the pen and leaned back in his seat again, sliding the book over to Melody.

Melody accepted the book and looked at the partial work on his paper.

"Let's rework this problem and do a few more examples. How does that sound?"

Eric nodded. "Let's do it."

"Okay." Melody began to explain the process to him again, going a little slower this time, and pausing at each step. "Does that help?"

He nodded again before taking the pen once more.

"Ready to try on your own again?"

"Ready as I'll ever be ..." And with that, Eric began scribbling once more, his head down in concentration and the frown back on his face. A few seconds passed, until finally he was done. "Go ahead. Put me outta my misery ..."

"Let's try that one more time. You're getting close."

Eric sighed miserably picking up the pen.

Melody smiled teasingly. "Come on Casanova. You told me you were up for the challenge."

Eric played along, scoffing half halfheartedly. "I'm always up for the challenge. I'm dating you, aren't I?"

Melody's grin widened. "That's true. So what are you waiting for then?"

"For math to actually make sense."

"Well you're just going about it the wrong way."

Eric frowned.

"Just think of algebra as a language you're trying to understand."

"How do I understand it then?"

"Well it's like cracking a code. In a way it's sort of like football."

Eric threw her a dubious stare.

"It's all about strategy," Melody explained.

A thoughtful look emerged on her face as she reached for the textbook. "I think we should save that last problem for later. I found a better one. Let's do a word problem."

Eric stared at her in horror. "How is this going to help?"

Melody smiled. "You'll see. I'm going to show you how algebra can be used in real life, starting with football. So we have this problem where a football is kicked into the air and follows the path defined by h=-2x^2+16x, where x is the time in seconds, and h is the height in metres. What is the maximum height reached by the football?”

Eric suddenly looked up, the confidence returning in his eyes. Melody smiled smugly.

"Okay, see if you can solve that using the steps we went through."

But as she said it, Eric was already scribbling on the paper in a frenzy. A few minutes passed before he slid the sheet to her, leaning back in the booth, arms folded behind his head. He shot her an momentarily cocky grin that gave way to nervousness. From the corner of her eyes, Melody noticed the tenseness in his shoulders as she checked over his work, nodding as each step was correct. As she reached the end of his work, hope was building up in her chest.

She looked up, her expression unreadable for a minute until a smile cracked her lips. "Way to go, Casanova. You got it."

Eric smirked. "I think after all that hard work, I deserve a reward. What do you say, Mel?"

He tried to kiss her but she thwarted his efforts, shoving a Chili fry in his mouth.

Eric frowned at her and she smiled. "Nice job. Now keep up the hard work."

"Now let's look at that first problem again."

"When will this misery end?" he grumbled.

"We'll be done after this one problem. Then you're free."

"Until tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow," Melody agreed. "But nothing I can do about that. Now we're almost done."

She gave the book back to Eric and he reluctantly began working the problem. Occasionally, he faltered, the pen hovering above the paper as it shook inbetween his fingers.

"Keep going. You're doing good."

Eric looked up at her, nodding in appreciation before slowly continuing. After a few minutes, he handed the paper to her. He looked down at the table as she reviewed his work.

"You got it right again, Casanova."

"What can I say?" he drawled, leaning against the back of his chair smugly. "Pretty math tutors get my brain going." He tapped a finger to his temple for extra emphasis.

Melody rolled her eyes. "You probably say that to all your math tutors."

Eric gave her a mock-insulted look. "I would never."

"Prove it."

"My pleasure," Eric smirked as they stood up from the booth. As Melody was turning to gather her things, Eric came up behind her, pulling her close to him. Just as he was about to kiss her, an alarm went off. Eric turned his wildly from side to side

"Do you have a curfew or something?" asked.

"Well I do, technically. It's not like I follow it, though."

He smirked at that, pulling her a little closer. "I think I'm having a bad influence on you, Mel ..."

"Maybe so," she replied pulling away and looking at her phone. "By the way, it's time to take your medicine."

Eric stared at her. "What?"

"Your medicine...you're supposed to take it six times a day and it's time for your fourth dose."

"How do you know that?"

Unrepentantly, Melody answered, "I asked Lauren to get your medicine schedule from your stepmom."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. Someone has to be responsible for you, and right now, that person is me."

Eric fell into an uncharacteristic silence, simply staring at her for a long moment. Melody could see a question behind the surprise in his eyes, a flicker of emotion that she couldn't name because it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"So I have the alien to thank for this?" He sighed, finally letting go of her completely before reaching into his backpack for the orange tubes. "I feel like I'm in kindergarten ..."

"Don't be mad at Lauren or your stepmom. Be mad at me. I'm the one who made them do it."

Eric said nothing. He unwound the lid to one pill bottle and popped two into his mouth before Melody handed him a drink to wash it down with. He swallowed, winced a little, and then placed the bottles back into his bag.

"Happy?"

"Yes," Melody answered seriously. "I know you're mad at me, Eric, and I understand. But at the end of the day, I just want you to get better. That's the most important thing." As the conversation with her uncle replayed in her head, she realized the hypocrisy of that statement.

"I get it, Mel," Eric's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "And I appreciate it ... even if I don't show it sometimes."

Melody smiled as Eric pulled her close again.

So," he began, cocking an eyebrow, "do I finally get my reward?"

Eric was lying on his back on the floor of his bedroom doing sit-ups, rap music blaring in the background. Since being benched by Coach Clancy, he'd been working on his fitness at every opportunity, determined to get back to the shape he was in before the accident. But he was interrupted by three solid knocks at the door.

He groggily got to his feet, feeling a brief piercing spasm of pain in his ribs as he did so. Another three knocks sounded.

“What the hell is it?” Eric shouted as he roughly flung open the door, only to see Trent glowering back at him, his brow raised. “I mean, yes?” he corrected.

“Turn that crap off and come downstairs. We have a family meeting.”

Eric shot him a baffled look. “Wha-?”

“And put a shirt on, you whore.”

Eric frowned as he watched Trent go, suddenly feeling a little nervous. The words ‘Family’ and ‘meeting’ never meant anything good. It was always the time when his old man would drop some awful bomb on everyone, and considering what had happened during the last family meeting, Eric was right to dread this one.

Pulling on a jumper, he jogged down the stairs and approached the lounge to find Marcus, River, Lauren, Janet and Kate all inside seated on the large couch facing the grand fireplace. Trent and their old man were the only ones standing.

“Eric, get in here,” his dad grumbled. “You’re late.”

Eric nodded and made his way towards the couch where Lauren was sat.

“What’s this about?” he asked in a whisper, taking the Red Bull from her hand and settling on the couch beside her.

“No idea,” she shrugged, looking just as confused as he did. “Did you do something?”

Eric shook his head. “Did you?”

“Please,” she scoffed, “when do I ever do anything that warrant’s a family meeting? That’s your department.”

Curiosity now fully piqued, Eric took a sip of Lauren’s drink and looked around at each member of his family hoping at least one of their expressions would give him a clue as to what was going on. As usual, though, their faces were completely unreadable.

“Right,” Trent began. “The reason you’ve all been called here is because I have an announcement to make.”

“Hopefully he’s moving to another country …” Eric muttered, causing Lauren to laugh out loud. Their dad shot them both a warning glare and the alien quickly covered her mouth.

“What kind of announcement?” their step-mom swiftly asked, trying to take the attention away from the twins before they could get themselves into any more trouble.

Trent put his hands in his pockets and seemed to stand up a little straighter, smugger. His stance made Eric a little nervous. Finally, he spoke:

“I’m getting engaged.”

The surprise of the announcement knocked the wind out of Eric's lungs, causing him to choke on his drink. This has to be a joke. Spluttering, he looked around the room and realised the only other person to give any kind of indication of being just as thrown or disturbed as he was by that announcement was Lauren.

“Oh God,” she groaned, her hand clamped to her mouth in dismay. “Please tell me it’s not to that crazy girlfriend of yours –”

"If it is, I'm out," Eric cut in, deadly serious. "There's no way I'm sharing a roof with that crazy -"

“It’s not her,” Trent bit out, visibly irritated by the pair of them.

“Oh.” Lauren frowned. “Who then?”

Trent said nothing. Instead he turned to their old man, “You wanna tell ‘em, Dad?”

If Trent had looked smug about all this, their old man looked like he’d just won the lottery twice over. With his chest puffed out like a proud peacock, he announced,

“Trent, here, is to marry Nina Vittorio.”

“Vittorio?” Eric echoed in alarm. “As in Torrence Vittorio, the mayor?”

"Since when do you know who the mayor is?" questioned River in a tone somewhere between surprise and amusement.

"That’s easy. He used to date his niece," Lauren explained.

River shook his head with a chuckle, Trent glared over at his youngest brother, clearly annoyed that the spotlight had shifted from him onto Eric. “Nina is Mayor Vittorio's daughter,” he clarified, reeling everyone's attention back onto him. "And I'll be marrying her by the end of the year."

Their old man nodded in confirmation. "We will be making a formal announcement tomorrow morning."

Eric looked at his brother and then his dad, and couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t quite right. It was clear in the way his step-mom looked down at the floor, in the way his sister-in-law avoided eye-contact with anyone, and in the way Marcus and River had barely gotten up out of their seats to give their congratulations ...

Something else is going on here.

Eric could feel it in his bones.

The question is what.

*

"Well, that was completely ridiculous," exclaimed Lauren, throwing herself onto Eric's couch with a huff. The two of them had promptly retreated upstairs as soon as the meeting was over, and while Eric had hoped to be alone with his thoughts, Lauren was determined to share hers with him. "As far as Van Holden family meeting's go, that was probably the most shocking. I mean, can you imagine Trent married?!"

Eric could imagine a lot of scenarios regarding his ambitious older brother, and none of them involved him having a ring on his finger ... unless of course, the marriage would benefit him in some way ...

Eric's mind was whirling with thoughts. All the while Lauren continued yapping on in the background.

"I just can't get over how badly this sucks. I mean, Trent is insufferable enough as it is, with a trophy wife on his arm he'll be ten times worse!"

And not just any trophy wife, Eric thought to himself, but the Mayor's daughter.

"Did you even know he was dating her?" Lauren asked, cutting through his thoughts once more.

Eric stayed quiet. He had his suspicions, but there was no way was going to voice them to her.

The following morning, Eric woke up for school and made his way downstairs for the usual family breakfast. The entire clan, minus Kate and Marcus' kids were sat around the large table as maids served them pancakes, croissants and fresh fruit.

"Good morning, Eric," his step-mom greeted as he entered.

"Morning," he replied. Still feeling slightly sore from last night's work-out session, her walked gingerly to the empty chair beside Lauren and sat down.

“Take a look,” she said, placing a copy of The Verona Times in front of him and Eric choked on his orange juice. Staring back at him was a picture of Trent and the mayor's daughter with the headline: ENGAGED: TRENT VAN HOLDEN AND NINA VITTORIO.

Eric decided he'd rather skip breakfast.

"Where do you think going?" asked Janet, as he stood up from his seat. "You've barely eaten anything."

"I just remembered I have to meet Coach Clancey," he lied.

"But -"

"Let him go, Janet." his dad cut in, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "But before you do, a quick word ... with all of you." Eric reluctantly lowered his backpack and everyone else around the table did the same with their knives and forks. “Now that the announcement has been made, the spotlight will be on this family more than ever. As such, each of you will be required to conduct yourselves with the utmost decency and decorum.” His sharp glare met each person in the room. “I will not have this engagement overshadowed by any foolish behaviour from the members of this family." His eyes settled on Eric for a long time. "Is that understood?”

“Understood,” they all chorused, except Eric, who just nodded before excusing himself.

By the time he reached school, Bobby was already standing by the lockers waiting for him.

“Heard about Trent’s engagement.”

“The whole of Verona’s heard about Trent’s engagement,” Eric retorted.

“You don’t seem too happy about it.”

Eric snorted. “This is Trent we’re talking about. I’m not exactly gonna be jumping up an’ down doing cartwheels, am I?”

“Fair enough,” Bobby said. “I’m still in shock. I mean, Trent married? I didn’t even know he was dating the Mayor’s daughter in the first place –”

“He wasn’t dating her,” Eric blurted out. It was the answer he’d wanted to give to Lauren the night before, but he didn’t want to worry her, especially if his suspicions proved to be correct.

Bobby just looked at him incredulously. “What d’you mean he wasn’t dating her? That would mean this whole thing was arranged ...” He paused after seeing the look on Eric’s face, “No way.”

“Yes way,” Eric nodded, “at least I think so. See, I have this theory …”

Bobby signalled for Eric to follow him into an empty classroom, before kicking out a chair and cocking his head. “Sit. Tell me.”

Eric took a seat before he resumed. “Trent doesn’t just get married. He’s too ambitious an’ his head’s too far up the business ladder. What he does do is date – models. His last girlfriend was on the cover of Sports Illustrated, for Christ’s sake!”

“So what you’re sayin’ is Trent would never marry someone like the Mayor’s daughter?” Bobby asked, leaning forward in his chair with intrigue.

“What I’m saying is Trent would never marry – period. But if he did it would only be because the marriage would benefit him in some way.”

“But how would marrying the Mayor’s daughter benefit him?”

“That’s the million dollar question.”

“You plannin’ on doing some digging to find out?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, “I mean, a part of me wants to know what’s goin’ on … but the other part of me is worried about what I’ll find out.”

“I get you,” Bobby nodded understandingly. “I mean, if you’re right about all this, and that Trent’s marriage does have some sorta hidden agenda behind it, then that would mean he’s up to somethin’ …”

“Somethin’ shady enough to need an alliance with the Mayor in case things don't go to plan,” Eric finished.

Bobby exhaled and regarded Eric with a look of genuine concern. “What has your family gotten involved in now, E?”

“I have no idea.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the shrill sound of the bell ringing.

“Let’s not talk about this in front of Mel," Eric added as an afterthought, as they stood up from their seats. "I don’t want her knowing about any of this.”

“She lives in Verona. I’m sure she's gonna know something.”

Eric released a frustrated sigh. "Maybe." Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he added, “Let’s just hope she doesn’t bring it up 'cause I sure as hell don't want to talk about any of this with her.”

Staring at the grim faces of her aunt and uncle at the breakfast table reminded Melody why she usually skipped breakfast. Uncle Jack had a steaming mug of coffee that he ignored as he read the newspaper. Branded onto Mary’s face was her trademark scowl while Uncle Jack looked more haggard than usual. What did I do? Melody wondered.

Melody couldn’t help but feel relief that the scowl wasn’t directed at her when she noticed Dylan seated beside Mary. He had a sullen expression on his face as they murmured. She caught snippets of the conversation such as, “Van Holdens….mayor…the hotel.”

She slipped into the vacant seat next to Uncle Jack.

“Morning,” Melody said quietly.

Uncle Jack looked up from the paper, surprise flitting across his face. He gave her a small smile, almost like a peace offering, but as usual, it never reached his eyes.

“Morning, Melody.”

“What’s going on?”

Mary and Dylan exchanged a glance of calculated consideration. Melody felt
a surge of annoyance at deliberately being kept in the dark.
Uncle Jack sighed, setting down the newspaper. He raised his coffee mug to his lips, taking a sip for fortification. “The Van Holdens are up to something. Their third oldest son, Trent, has announced his engagement to the mayor’s daughter.” He scowled down at the paper.

But what does that have to do with us?”

“The mayor, who had seemed neutral before, is now going to be on their side. In fact, he is supporting the Van Holdens’ lawsuit against us opening the hotel.”

The mood in the room blackened as Melody realized the gravity. Though she wanted nothing to do with the family business or the two hundred-year-old Van Holden-Duquaine feud, a shred of sympathy reverberated through Melody for her uncle. As the CEO of the Duquaine Hotels, her uncle bore the brunt of the burden, a burden that would have belonged to her mother instead, had she not shed her fine life to marry Russel Grey.

“So what happens to the family business?”

Uncle Jack smiled bitterly. “That’s the million dollar question. We don’t know. Only time will tell.”

Melody nodded, allowing the grim words to sink in. Uncertainity hung heavy in the room like an approaching storm. Melody started to reach for a muffin as she stood up, free hand digging in her pocket for her keys.

“Sit and eat breakfast,” Uncle Jack told her.
Melody stared uncomprehendingly at the direct command.

“You won’t need your keys. I’m dropping you off at school and picking you up. It’s Thursday; you have your appointment today.”

Expectantly, he held his hands out and Melody surrendered the keys.

~
Melody instantly hated the therapy clinic as Uncle Jack pulled up to a small building with a cheerfully painted multicolor façade. She reluctantly stepped out of the car and trudged behind him into the building. She made a point of lagging behind him a few feet. As Uncle Jack stood at the foyer waiting for her, he raised an eyebrow.

“Melody, it’ll only be an hour.”

Melody folded her arms and gave him a challenging glare. “I know.”

Uncle Jack sighed softly. “I know you don’t want to do this, but it can only help you.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because it helps to have someone to talk to, even if that person isn’t me.”

“How am I supposed to talk about it when you refuse to?”

Jack drew in a shaky breath as if Melody’s words had slid under his skin like a knife. “That’s why we’re here, Melody It’ll help you. I promise, but only if you’re open to help. I know you try to be independent, but you can’t do everything on your own. It’s okay to need help.”

More gently, he continued, “You know that right?”

Melody pointedly looked away. How much ‘help’ had she gotten when she had been shuffled from one home to the next in the past two years? Though she stared down at her boots, when she looked up, Uncle Jack was regarding her with that tragic mix of sorrow and resignation. His gaze settled on her, heavy and burdening, making her avert her eyes again.

“I’m not going to give up on you, Melody. I don’t know what it will take for you to see that, I’m not going to just send you away just because we’re having problems. We can work through this, as a family.”

That was a word she hadn’t heard or considered in a long time.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Melody answered. She tried to steel herself for the hurt look that crossed his face. He nodded in resignation, offering her a rueful smile, as if he expected that answer.

“I’ll be in the waiting room if you need me. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Melody nodded as she was called in.
~
She was expecting a cluttered office, reeking of dust and musk, and packed full of leather-bound books. Instead, the room was painted teal. Instead of bookshelves, a large aquarium and a small table tucked in the corner with a lava lamp. Abstract paintings decorated the walls. If anything, the room looked like an art studio than the office of a therapist. It was small but not cramped.
Melody sat sprawled on the sofa facing the loveseat the therapist occupied.

She smiled warmly at Melody, a look Melody was immediately wary of. Melody had been expecting a middle-aged therapist, but this woman seemed to be in her early thirties. Nothing about her seemed conventional.

She didn’t have the “sensible” dress appearance Melody expected. Instead she was more business casual. She had a mane of unruly shoulder length curls. To match her red hair, she wore a pair of red cat eye glasses, like she stepped out of the ’60s. She resembled a quirky artist instead of a therapist. Lauren probably would have liked her.

She adjusted her glasses, giving Melody another inviting smile

“I’m Dr. Evans. It’s nice to meet you, Melody. I’ve already talked to your uncle about your situation, but why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Melody stiffened, eyes narrowing. “If you already talked to my uncle, why ask me?”

Dr. Evans was unfazed. Calmly, even patiently, she replied, “I want to hear it from you, to understand your perspective.”

“My parents died in a car accident. What’s there left to say?” To a stranger anyway.

Melody hated the look of sympathy the therapist gave her. “You don’t have to share everything and we don’t have to rush into things. Why don’t we start with the reason you’re here. Your uncle says you’re having trouble coping with your grief?”

Melody shifted uncomfortably.

“There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, Melody. It’s only a problem when the pain interferes with your daily life. Do you feel like this has been happening to you?”

It’s only an hour, she reminded herself. “Maybe…”

“Have you heard of the five stages of grief?”

Melody shook her head.

“Well you have denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.”

Melody scoffed. “That order doesn’t make sense.”

Dr. Evans offered a small smile. “You’re right. In that order, it doesn’t seem to make sense. But in reality, most people go through multiple stages at once.”
Melody bobbed her head, taking in that information. That did seem to make more sense.

“Can you tell me how long it’s been since your parents’ death?”

“Two years.”

Dr. Evans smiled sorrowfully, saying, “I’m sorry to hear that. If you don’t mind, can you tell me what these past two years have been like for you?”

Melody stared her down for a long hard moment. Dr. Evans returned the gaze, unflinching. Melody sighed inwardly, knowing the attempt at intimidation failed. Her eyes flitted to the clock mounted on the wall, as the steady tick filled the room, making Melody feel like each grain of sand falling to the bottom of a slow hourglass. The therapist waited patiently. As if sensing Melody’s discomfort, she averted her gaze and instead slipped off her sandals. She then proceeded to fold her legs Indian style. If she was trying to create an air of casualness so Melody could relax and open up, it was working,

Melody decided not to sugar coat. She had one word for it. “Hell.”

Reaching for a notepad, Dr. Evans scribbled some notes down. When Melody didn’t elaborate, she briefly looked up at Melody, gently urging. “Go on.”

Sighing, Melody tugged on a curl in frustration. “I don’t know. There’s too much to explain. After my parents died, time seemed to change. Everyone told me that time would feel like it stopped, like it would paralyze me. But ever since the accident it feels like my life is like that car, spinning out of control. It’s like I’ve lost control and I don’t how to stop it but if I don’t then I’m—

“You’ll what?” Dr. Evans looked up and took the sum total of Melody’s willpower not to flinch away from those intelligent, probing eyes.

“I’ll crash into something. But that’s the only way to make the spinning stop…I think time makes it harder.”

“So your grief has gotten worse?”

Melody tried for a shrug of indifference. She felt like a defendant standing before a judge and
unforgiving jury.

“I don’t know. I guess I never really had time to properly grieve. I’ve been bouncing around from
place to place a lot.”

“So you’ve moved around a lot?”

Melody nodded reluctantly. “My mom’s side of the family didn’t want me. Then again, neither did my dad’s side. Not really any way. I lived with my grandmother, on my father’s side, for a few months. But then she passed me on, after six months.”

“What do you mean by ‘passed you on’?”

“After she got tired of dealing with me, my dad’s brother stepped up. And then when the next relative would step up to take me in.”

A troubled look flitted across the therapist’s face. “Did that happen often?”

“Five times.”

Melody laughed. “I guess I’m not the easiest person to deal with.”

“And why do you say that?”

“Well my uncle says it’s the way I dress and the music I listen to.”

“What do you listen to?”

“Goth, heavy metal, and hard rock.”

“And your uncle doesn’t approve?”

Melody shook her head. “No. Not that I’ve met anyone that approves.”

“How does the music make you feel?”

The question took Melody by surprise. She purposely listened to edgy music to feed her graveyard of emotions. The anger, the loss, the despair, were all the emotions that seemed to take the bait, thriving on melancholy. In a way, this was her way of reminding herself she was here.

“It makes me feel alive.”

“So you enjoy this type of music?”

Melody shrugged. “I guess.”

“Really?” Dr. Evans lightly questioned. “That music is pretty intense, often built around negative emotions.”

Here we go again…

Melody folded her arms. “You sound like my uncle.”

“How so?” Dr. Evans inquired, leaning forward, arms braced on her knees.

“He doesn’t approve or understand, either.”

“And why doesn’t he understand?”

“He thinks it’s nothing more than angry noise, and I guess, devil’s music. That’s what his wife thinks.”

The therapist nodded, trying to school her expression into one of neutrality. However, Melody detected an aura of silent disapproval and misguided concern. For a moment, she expected the therapist to pull out crystals and “purify” Melody’s negative aura.

“What does this music represent to you, Melody?”

“Honesty.”

Dr. Evans was scribbling furiously. The pen stalled as she asked, “And why is that?”
Melody offered a jagged smile. “Because it doesn’t sugarcoat. Yeah, I guess rock focuses on the dark side to life-death-but at least that’s better than the approach most people take, which is to downplay it.”

“Melody,” Dr. Evans interjected, “You know that’s not the full scope of life, right?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I know, but it’s still a big part of grief, anyway.” Melody wrung her hands together. “It’s not like there’s a user manual to this.”

The therapist conceded. “That’s true; like what we talked about earlier, everyone has to work through it in their own way.”

“And this is mine.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Melody’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“I think your uncle may have a valid point. Are you really listen to this music because you like it, or is more like a punishment?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Melody snapped.

“Is it?” Dr. Evans repeated in that gentle tone. How could such soft words still penetrate her skin?
Melody clenched her jaws, eyes fixated on the wall.

“It seems,” Dr. Evans continued, “you’re using this music as a form of control. It evokes emotions, but not good ones. Anger, despair, sorrow. Guilt. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Melody admitted through gritted teeth.

“Can you tell me why you listen to it, even when it makes you feel this way?”

“Because I know I’m alive,” Melody answered. Then in a softer tone, she added, “Even if I shouldn’t be.”

“Do you feel guilty about what happened?”

Each question was like a newly sharpened scalpel, artfully dissecting Melody. Peeling her back, layer by layer until the rugged mess of her heart was exposed, like a rare specimen.
Melody glared at the therapist, as her eyes involuntarily brimmed with tears. She shook her head in disgust as tears slipped down her cheeks. Melody swiped them away, but more took their place.
Wordlessly, Dr. Evans handed her a tissue. Melody dabbed at her eyes, as the therapist pointedly looked away, allowing Melody to compose herself.

“How can I not?” They were killed on impact and I’m still here.”

“And thank God you are!” Dr. Evans exclaimed, solemnly yet earnestly.

Melody couldn’t understand why a stranger would care so much. The troubled way she regarded

Melody reminded her of Eric’s reaction to her guilt- uncomfortable uncertainty.

“Can you explain to me how you it’s your fault?”

Hearing the question aloud made Melody realize how ridiculous it must seem. “I don’t know. It just is.”

Dr. Evans nodded. “Grief has a way of tricking people into thinking they’re to blame for things out of their control.”

“Then how do you stop it?”

She could tell Dr. Evans was pleased she asked a question. “Right, good question. First you have to understand, it isn’t your fault, even when it feels like it.”

“How do you do that?”

“Well, it always helps to have a good listener. It’s much easier to tell yourself you’re at fault than it is to tell yourself the opposite. It helps to hear the truth from others; you’re more likely to accept it.”

“Like a therapist?” Melody challenged ironically.

“No,” Dr. Evans answered evenly. “Anyone you want it to be like a loved one or close friend.”
Melody shook her head

“Is there anyone you’re close to that you trust a lot? Someone special, perhaps?”

Melody looked up. “Maybe.”

The therapist nodded enthusiastically. “Who?”

“My boyfriend.” As she said the word, Melody felt her lips relaxing into a smile.

“Can you tell me more about him?” Dr. Evans asked, realizing he was a relatively safe topic.

“Where do I even start?”

“Wherever you’re most comfortable with.”

“We met in detention. The first time we met, he flirted with me, and I stepped on his foot. On the surface, he looked like this spoiled rich boy that had it all-looks, money, popularity, girls.” Melody gave a small laugh. “I’ve been there, done that with guys like that. But he wouldn’t give up on me dating him. Je eve stood up for me a few times. Not that I can’t fight my own battles.”

Dr. Evans smirked. “I can believe that.”

“Well, I do have a black belt in karate,” Melody admitted before switching back to the subject. “I
didn’t ask him to stand up for me, or even expect him to, but he did anyway. I never made things easy for him, and still don’t. But he hasn’t given up on me. I don’t know why, but he hasn’t.”

“Do you think he understands what you’re going through?”

Melody reluctantly nodded. “He does because he lost his mom too, just a long time ago. He was the first that told me it was okay to still grieve and to talk about her.”

“Do you?”

“Not really,” Melody admitted. “It’s not just hard on me, but him too. I know he will listen, even if he doesn’t want to, but I don’t know how to talk about it without making him thinking about his own mom. And that’s the last thing I’d want to do, cause him more pain.”

“So he is still grieving too?”

Melody sighed, one hand drifting to rake through her hair. “I think so. He hasn’t had closure either. Maybe that’s why we understand each other so well.”

Dr. Evans nodded thoughtfully, tapping the pen to her chin. “I think you would benefit from a group session with your boyfriend here for support.”

Melody’s jaw dropped. “How will that help?”

“It might help him understand more what you’re going through, and maybe even what he is going through himself. At the very least, moral support, right?”

Though Melody liked the idea of Eric being there to lighten up the mood, she also felt a little queasy about the idea. She remembered how quiet and withdrawn and so…un-Eric-like, at the restaurant. And she knew how he felt about sharing feelings. What if he thought she was insane? But what if it did help him and her?

Dr. Evans picked up on Melody’s uncertainty. “How much do you trust him?”

“More than anyone I know.”

The therapist nodded in satisfaction as if she expected that answer.

A thought occurred to Melody. “You’re not going to ask him anything too personal, are you?”

Dr. Evans offered an understanding smile. “No. These sessions, whether one-on-one like this, or group sessions, are ultimately about you. If you’re not comfortable with the idea, that’s okay. I just you want to have a good support system, starting with one person.”

Melody nodded.

The therapist offered a small smile. “I think that’s enough for today. You did very well for a first visit.”

Melody stared at her in disbelief.

“You didn’t scream or curse at me, so yes, I consider that a success,” Dr. Evans remarked with uncharacteristic wryness. “Talk to your boyfriend, see what he says, and I’ll see you next week. How does that sound?”

Melody nodded dazedly as Dr. Evans’s hand engulfed hers in a firm and friendly handshake.

"So today's rehearsal went well," smirked Bobby, as the boys took their seats in the cafeteria.

Eric shot his friend a frown. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Bobby."

He shrugged, his smirk widening. "I think it suits me just fine."

A spell of silence fell as Eric began to recall the morning’s disaster of a dance rehearsal. He had yet again managed to fail catching Melody during the spin, mistiming his reach completely which almost resulted in her falling flat on her face. But in his defence, he had been distracted. Trent's bizarre engagement and the sharp pangs coming from Eric’s ribs seemed to occupy the majority of space in his brain. Not that Melody knew that.

"Look on the bright side," Casey cut in, causing Eric to snap out of his thoughts.

Bobby raised a brow. "He sucks at dancing. There is no bright side."

"Yeah, there is," insisted Casey. "At least this time he caught Melody before she hit the floor."

Eric irritably stabbed the fries on his plate with a fork. "If that's you tryna make me feel better, Case, then --" He stopped mid-sentence when his glance suddenly fell on Melody standing in the corner of the cafeteria, looking around for a place to sit.

Melody scanned the room for a place to sit. Lauren had gone to art club, so she was left to her own devices. Part of her wanted to eat with lunch, but after today's disastrous dance practice at rehearsals, she knew Eric's ego was wounded. And she knew he needed time with his friends, without her intruding. She decided on a discreet table in the corner of the room, closest to the exit.

The therapy session still spun around in her mind. Basically, the therapist had touched all the stuff her uncle told her, rambling on about the five stages of grief. The therapist had then gone on to give her a packet of useless papers explaining grief, as if she wasn't familiar with the concept. It had taken all of Melody's willpower not to dump them in the garbage can of the waiting room. She instead waited until she got home, making a point to throw them away in the trashcan of her uncle's office. If he didn't get the message after that, then she didn't know if he ever would.

Melody's gaze flitted to Eric's and he locked eyes with her. She looked away, insecurity blazing through her. Even after she turned away, Melody felt his curious stare burning through her back. It was like her first day at Verona High all over again. The therapist had needled her into admitting she had a boyfriend and "strongly" encouraged her to talk to him, but how could she explain to her boyfriend she was going to mandatory therapy sessions?


"Hey Mel," Eric called, making her look up in surprise. "Come join us."

Melody nodded and hurried walked to the lunch table. She took a seat next to Eric. She was about to start tucking into her sandwich, she noticed Eric staring at her in concern.

"What?" Melody asked.

"You sure I didn't hurt you at rehearsals?"

"For the fiftieth time, Eric, I'm fine. You caught me before I could fall this time, remember?"

Casey pointed over at Melody. "You see? There's the bright side I was talkin' about."

"Bright side?" Melody questioned.

"I'm trying to cheer up Mr. Grumpy, over here," answered Casey, nodding towards Eric. "He's been sulky ever since we got back from rehearsals."

Melody turned to look Eric in the eye, she tried to choose her words carefully, knowing "Don't worry about it. You're doing better, Eric."

"Mrs. Bing would disagree," he muttered.

"Well," Melody said, trying to lighten the mood, "She didn't tell you to bring your helmet today, so that's progress." She gave him a teasing shove.

In spite of himself, Eric chuckled lowly. Melody watched as Eric flinche. Being mindful of Eric's friends watching them, she leaned her head close to his shoulder as she whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he whispered back, but Melody noticed the frown return once more on his face.

"Liar. I can see something's wrong. What is it?"

Eric let out a quiet sigh of frustration. "I've been tryna get back into shape for Coach Clancy, but my body’s been fighting back."

Melody squeezed his hand, giving Eric a look of sympathy. "I know, Casanova. You're making progress. It might not feel like it, but you are. You just have to give it a little more time."

"I need to get back on first string before my ol' man finds out. I can't afford any more time."

“So, I hear your dancing is as bad as you're throwing techniques now ...” Eva's droll voice filled the air.

Eric really wasn't in the mood for anymore jibes about his fitness. But if Reese's girlfriend wanted to dish it out, he wasn't going to back down. “Your face is lookin’ a little pasty today, Eva. D'you put your makeup on in the dark?”

That comment caused an outburst of laughter from Bobby and Casey, and Eric found himself instantly feeling better.

Eva rolled her eyes tartly as the laughter subsided. “Hilarious.”

“I know,” he replied smugly.

“So where’s Reese?” she asked, scanning the table

“Not here. Obviously.”

“I can see that,” she retorted, “Which is why I asked where he is.”

“Detention,” Bobby explained. “He forgot to do his History homework.”

She looked over at Eric accusingly. “And you didn’t?”

“I copied Casey’s. Ain’t that right, buddy?”

Casey nodded proudly. Eva frowned, “Why didn’t Reese just do that, too?”

“He’s not as clever as me, you see, so the idea didn't occur to him.” Eric had hoped that that was enough to make Eva disappear, unfortunately she remained standing where she was. “Feel free to leave now,” he added.

But she wasn't looking at him, her eyes were too busy piercing Melody's. “Actually," she said after a while, "I think I’ll stay.”

"Jeez…” muttered Bobby.

Eva ignored him and took the empty seat next to Casey. She barely threw Melody another glance as she focused her attention back on Eric.

"So, E, I hear Ruby's still holding out on you taking her to the Deb Ball ..."

Melody kept her face blank, eyes darting briefly to Bobby’s as He stared at her in worry for a moment and Melody's gaze darted to Eric. He still had his eyes locked on Eva.

"I'd rather take Casey," he said.

Casey choked on his fries and Bobby had to give him a firm thump on the back to prevent him from suffocating.

"Don't die on me, Case," Eric smirked. "I was just kidding."

"I knew that," he grumbled sheepishly.

Melody feigned confidence, giving Eva her best haughty look as she laughed, "Maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

Again, Eva ignored her. "I think you should take Ruby."

"Didn't I just tell you I'd rather take Casey?"

Casey froze. "You said you were kidding."

"Maybe I wasn't."

Bobby burst out laughing, but Eva was determined to get back to the subject matter at hand.

"I'm saying this because you're my boyfriend's friend," she said in a fake tone of sincerity, "I really think you should take Ruby to the ball."

"Maybe you should take Ruby," Melody interjected innocently.

"Now that I'd like to see," smirked Eric.

Eva rolled her eyes, feigning boredom. "I'm sure you would."

Melody was hoping that would make her leave, but this time she decided on a direct approach. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else, Eva? Like making a freshman cry or spitting on puppies?"

Once more, Eva ignored her. "Okay, I get it, you don't wanna take Ruby. I have a whole army of girls that would be more than happy to take her place."

Eric scoffed, "You can pass 'em on to Bobby 'cause I have a girlfriend."

Bobby shook his head. "I think I'd rather take Casey, too."

"Not this again," Casey protested, but the rest of his sentence was drowned out by Eva.

"I'm sorry, did you just say girlfriend?"

“Yes,” Eric said, unable to understand why she hadn’t heard him the first time. “Would you like me to say it again more slowly?”

~

Eva said nothing, she simply stared like he'd just grown a horn or something. Eric stared back, daring her to say something. When she didn't, he threw Melody a smug look. It wasn't until then that he noticed the insecurity in her eyes. Eva's disbelief at the thought of her being his girlfriend had clearly angered her, which only angered Eric in return. And so, he got up.

"Where you goin'?" asked Bobby.

"I just remembered Mel and I have a thing ..."

“What thing?” Casey probed, but Eric ignored him, locking eyes with Melody.

You coming?" he asked her.

She nodded, albeit slowly in her confusion, and stood up from her seat. Melody followed Eric as he led her outside to the student courtyard. They say down on the grassy area under the shade of tree, where they could be alone in privacy. Wrapping an arm around Melody, Eric pulled her close.

"Now that's better, isn't it?" Eric smirked.

"This isn't one of your old make-out spots, is it?"

Eric laughed. "It isn't actually, but we can fix that."

Melody rolled her eyes but she laughed too. The smile faded from Eric's face, replaced by a more serious, thoughtful expression. He looked Melody straight in the eye earnestly.

"Look, Mel, about what Eva said back there, I don't want you paying any attention to any of it. She talks a lot of crap."

Melody felt the back of her neck and cheeks flaming, and hoped Eric didn't notice her face turning red. She stared at the ground for a moment before forcing herself to meet Eric's troubled gaze. What was happening to her? She was usually more confident around him.

Melody gave him a lopsided smile. "I know, Casanova." That doesn't make it easy though, when everyone is saying it.

Eric gave her a dubious stare. "Then why do you seem so down?"

"It's nothing to worry about, Eric."

"Who's lying now?" he said. "Mel, come on, what is it? I can tell something's wrong."

Melody folded her arms defensively, scooting away from Eric a few inches. "Eric, I told you, I'm fine-" But as she moved away from Eric, she felt the therapists’ business card shifting hazard in her jean pocket, tumbling into the grass. The wind blew it towards Eric's direction. Melody lunged for it, but Eric easily plucked it off the ground.

"What's this?" he asked her, frowning.

Melody stared straight ahead of him defiantly. "I told you not to worry about it. Just give it back." She held her hand out expectantly.

But Eric ignored her request, and his eyes scanned the contents of the card. His brow knitted together, the grimace returning. " Mel, what's going on?"

Melody sighed, glowering at the ground. "My uncle is making me go to these stupid therapy sessions to 'cope' with my 'grief.' Happy now?"

Eric went quiet for a while. She expected him to get mad at her for keeping it a secret, or maybe even judge her a little, but instead he looked up at her and asked, "Does it help, talking about it?"

Melody stared at him in shock, and her heart It was my f as she realized he was thinking about his mom. Her fingers twitched with the urge to fill in the empty spaces between his, and she wanted to talk to him about his mom. But she knew he wasn't ready. Not yet, anyway.

"I don't know yet," she admitted softly. "It was my first session. The therapist seemed...nice. She listened. But I mean, how do I know that she really cares? She's paid to do this. But at the same time...I want to believe she is. I don’t know. And maybe if she is pretending to listen, then that's more than my uncle. It's like I can't even talk about my mom without him clamming up on me."

Eric nodded understandingly, handing the card back to her. She hurriedly took the card, folding it carefully before replacing it in her pocket.

"People handle grief in different ways," he said simply.

Melody nodded bitterly. "I know, and apparently mine is to take it out on the world."

Eric arched a brow. "Is that what the therapist said you're doing?"

Melody gave a halfhearted laugh. "No, that was my uncle. In fact, that's the reason I'm going. Honestly, does he think I need anger management or grief counseling?"

Eric shook his head a little and sighed. "I guess in his own way he's tryna help you. In that sense, you're lucky to have him."

The truth of Eric's statement ricocheted through Melody's core like a bullet, but not in the way when you experience a load-lifting epiphany. It was the only kind of realization Melody was familiar with: bitter irony. Her voice came out raw as tears blurred her vision. "I guess in a way you're right. He is the last relative I have, willing to take me in. This....this is my last chance."

"Hey ..." Eric took her hand in his and gave it a gentle but reassuring squeeze. "Whatever it is you're going through, you'll learn to deal with it. You're strong."

Shock rattled Melody, and for a few long seconds, all she could do was stare at Eric to see if he was joking or just patronizing her to comfort her. Instinctively, her fingers tightened around his as she held onto his hand like a lifeline. "You'd be the first person to think that."

Eric shrugged at that. "That just means I'm the only one who bothered to get to know the real you."

Melody nodded. "You're right, Eric."

"Of course I am," he smirked in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere a little.

He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes in return, but felt her lips lifting into a small smile. "I never imagined it would be you to do it, but I'm glad it was you. I...I couldn't think of a better person."

Eric regarded her for a moment. "Not even your ex-boyfriend?"

Melody snorted. "Especially not him. Why?" she teased, “Eric...are you jealous?"

Eric scoffed at her insinuation. "Why would I be jealous of some loser ex-boyfriend?"

"If you’re not jealous, then why did you ask?"

"Curiosity," he shrugged, though Melody could sense the slight dip in his usually confident demeanor.

"Come on, Casanova, don't be ridiculous. You know I'm stuck with you. And that means you're stuck with me."

He smirked, tugging the hand he was still holding in order to pull her closer to him. "I'm okay with that if you are."

Melody chuckled. "That's cute. You think you have a choice."

He laughed. "I think that's the first time you called me cute. Damn, I should've recorded it."

"Don't hold your breath waiting for it to happen

He smirked. "But you do think I'm cute though, right?"

Melody rolled her yes. "Yes, you're cute. Happy?"

Eric pulled out his cellphone and replayed the recording, smiling widely.

"You're so full of it, Eric."

"It being cuteness," he pointed out smugly. "I'm turning this into a ringtone, by the way."

Melody smile, before returning to the subject at hand. Sighing, she looked up at the sky and said,. "I have to go back next week."

Eric looked at her, confused by her sudden mood shift. "You have to go where next week?"

"Therapy."

"Oh, right. That ..." He rubbed the back of his neck and regarded her.

"Maybe it is supposed to help me but it's so...draining."

Eric nodded understandingly. “I suppose getting your uncle to come with you is outta the question?”

Melody shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s very...complex. I think he wants to get to know me, but he keeps me at arm's length. Some days, it’s an accomplishment if he will even look at me for longer than five seconds. Honestly….maybe it would be better if he didn’t come Every time my mom comes up, he doesn’t end well. We had a fight a week ago and of course it was about her.”

Eric fell quiet again, this time for much longer than before. “Yeah, that sounds rough ... I suppose he’s still not over it.”

Melody looked at Eric, who was artfully avoiding her gaze. She knew he was thinking about his own mom, and she remembered that Bobby had mentioned that his dad had moved all the pictures of his mom to his office, and essentially erased her memory. That wasn’t helping Eric with his mom, and she realized that he was grieving just as much as she was, just in a more invisible way. Melody’s heart ached to help him, but she couldn’t, not when she wasn’t supposed about him mom.

Melody gave a soft sigh, giving Eric’s hand a squeeze.

“Yeah, I know, Casanova. And I guess neither am I. But I think it’s better if he doesn’t go.. My...my therapist said that it might help if someone else close to me….the person I trust the most, went with me.”

“Like who?” he asked.

“Like maybe my boyfriend.”

Eric’s eyes widened a little. “You mean me?”

“Well I don’t see any other boyfriends around, so yes.”

“You really trust me the most?”

Melody nodded. “Is that so surprising? You’re the only person in my life that bothered to get to know me, even when I didn’t make it easy for. Especially when I didn’t make it easy. So yeah, it is you, Eric.”

Eric struggled for a moment, meeting her eyes then averting them. He did that for a few seconds before finally speaking. “And this therapist, she really thinks that me coming will help you?”

Melody nodded, turning her head. “You don’t have to, Eric. It was just a suggestion. ”

“I know I don’t have to,” he said, “but if it will help then … I guess I could come.”

Melody smiled inwardly. She knew how Eric felt about sharing feelings or vulnerability, but all those rules seemed to fly out the window where she was concerned. She guessed that was a special privilege not too many people got in his life.

Softly, she said, “It would mean the world to me.”

Eric smiled at that, albeit a small one, before a look of concern flashed across his features. “This therapist, she won’t, y’know … ask me anything … will she?”

Melody shook her head. “I doubt it. Maybe about our relationship, but nothing too personal. But you don’t have to answer. If you don’t want to even talk, that’s okay too.”

Relief flooded his features.

“Just you being there for me...it’s more than enough.”

“I’ll always try to be there for you, Mel,” he assured her. “You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

His eyes were depthless in their sincerity. For once in her life since the accident, she could truly believe that someone was there to help her hold up the sky, and even when the sky fell, gather up the fragments and piece the sky back together. In this one moment, her life didn’t feel like it was spinning chaotically, with her in the middle of the eye of the storm. Time seemed to melt to suspend them in one snapshot of infinity, and Melody realized this had to be what forever felt like.

“Mel, you okay?” he asked, breaking through her thoughts. “You’re looking at me funny.”

Melody nodded sheepishly, face flushing in embarrassment. “I was just thinking about how nice this moment is and how I wish I could make it last forever.”

“Or …” he smirked, “You were thinking you wanted to kiss me.”

Melody rolled her eyes. In your wildest dreams, Casanova.”

His smirk only widened. “You wouldn’t wanna know about my wildest dreams. Trust me.”

Melody returned the smirk. “I think I have a few ideas, but care to enlighten me?”

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “it involves you, me an--”
The rest of Eric’s sentence was drowned out by the sudden shrill sound of the bell

Eric scowled. “Everytime!” He got up in irritation. “I’m starting to think God’s trynna send me some sort of message.”

“He is,” she confirmed. “The message is behave yourself.”

“But that’s boring. You wouldn’t be dating me if I was boring.”

Melody couldn’t argue with that simple truth. “I guess you’re right, Casanova.”

“You see?” he smirked, his tone smug, as he took her waist and pulled her close. “So how about that kiss …?”

Melody feigned confusion, “What kiss?”

“You know, the one I get for being cute.”

“I don’t remember saying you’d get a kiss for that.”

“That’s because you didn’t,” he admitted reluctantly. “This is me making a suggestion.”

“Well normally, I don’t give my boyfriend kisses just for being cute, but I guess I can make an exception. Just this one time.”

“Finally.”

Eric’s arms snaked around Melody’s waist as he pulled her to his chest. As Eric drew her close, the smell of her perfume hit him like a fragrant summer breeze. Melody’s breath hitched as Eric smirked at her, and his lips molded to hers. Melody’s arms looped around Eric’s neck, and she could feel the curls at the nape of his neck brushing against her fingers. One of Eric’s hands crept up to cup Melody’s cheek.

“Happy now, Casanova?”

“Very,” he winked, loosening his grip. “You should get to class.”

Melody let out a frustrated sigh. “I have Mrs. Wells next. She hates me.”

“Really? She’s always been cool with me.”


“I wonder why …”

Eric chuckled at that, and they headed back up towards the school together. He looked back for a moment at the spot where they’d been sitting and smirked.

“What’s so funny?” asked Melody.

“That ended up becoming my new make-out spot after all.”

Melody smacked his shoulder. "That was a one time offer, Casanova.” Noticing the smirk adorning his face, she added, “Don’t get any ideas.”

“That’s cute. You think I won’t,” he said, using her line.

She rolled her eyes. “Clever.”

“You think I’m clever, too?” he feigned shock. “I must be on a roll today. Could you repeat it again so I can record that as well?”

“Nice try. You’re not that clever, Lover Boy --”

“Eric!”

Both their eyes looked up to find Miss Sparks glaring over at them from the lab entrance.

“Crap,” muttered Eric.

“Crap, indeed,” his science teacher apparently had the ears of a bat. “Is there a reason why you’re not in my class yet?”

“I uh --”

“Inside. Now.”

“But-”

Miss Spark’s ears reddened with anger and Melody swooped in before Eric could dig himself into a deeper grave.

“Go to class, Casanova.” But even as she said it, Eric ignored her, quickly planting a peck on her cheek. Before his lips could brush against her, she turned her head. Miss Sparks grabbed Eric’s collar, wrenching him from Melody. Miss Sparks fixed him with a withering glare as she steered him into the lab, her hand on his shoulder like a claw. Melody had to stifle a laugh as she watched Eric obediently head inside the lab like a reprimanded child. She could hear him mumbling something about only being a few minutes late and how Reese had turned up half an hour late once without getting yelled at. His grumblings, however, appeared to fall on deaf ears.

By the time Eric finally entered Chem class, Miss Sparks following closely behind, the rest of the students had already settled in their seats, text books out and lab coats on. Since they were used to Eric always showing up late to lesson, no one really stopped to look up at him.

“You’re early,” noted Reese with a smirk as Eric took the empty stool beside him.
Eric shrugged. “I lost track of time.”

Reese’ smirk widened and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. “I’m sure you did.”

Eric only smirked back as Casey threw him a spare lab coat which he then put on before sliding Reese’ textbook towards him. Unfortunately, he had left his at home.

“No text book, Eric … again?” If Miss Sparks had been angry at him before for being late, it was nothing compared to how angry she was at him now. Her anger only worsened as the lesson progressed. No matter how charming Eric tried to be, the woman just refused to go easy on him (much to the entertainment of Eric’s friends). Eric considered personally writing a letter to that estranged husband of hers begging him to give her the divorce she wanted if only to make the woman smile once in a while.

He wondered at that moment if Mrs Wells was giving Mel an equally hard time.

“Miss Grey, how nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. Do you realise you’re over ten minutes late to my class?”

“Maybe I had something better to do,” Melody retorted.

Silence fell as Melody’s snarky remark reverberated around the class walls. Every student had their pens down and their eyes glued firmly on student and teacher. Lauren locked eyes with Melody, staring at her questioningly while Ruby glowered at her. Melody had enough of

“Whatever you were doing couldn’t be as important as my class.”

Melody stared at her dubiously.

“Would you care to enlighten us all on what could be so important that you would miss the first ten minutes of my lecture?”

Melody didn’t bother to answer. Mrs. Wells stared her down for a minute then waved a hand in dismissive exasperation. “Nevermind, just take your seat. We’ll deal with this at detention.”

She made her way to the back of the classroom, slipping into the seat behind Lauren.

“I tried to cover for you as long as I could,” Lauren whispered. When Mrs Wells turned her back to them to focus on the board, Lauren threw her a look of disgust. “You know she has a crush on Eric, right?”

Melody rolled her eyes. That was half of Verona. “Yeah I know. When she has detention duty, All Eric has to do is smile at her, and he can get me out of detention though.”

“Where were you anyway?”

“I was with Eric.”

Lauren nodded, as if unsurprised. Her lips quirked into a victorious smile. “Did he finally ask you to the deb ball?”

Melody shook her head. She hasn’t really thought about the ball lately. Though after every rehearsal Eric struggled with, she was starting to doubt he would even want to go. She tried to suppress the disappointment. Her aunt was going to make her go. If Eric didn’t go with her as a date then her aunt would find a date for her. She dreaded one potential “suitor.” Marvin Callore, the heir to a multi-billion software company and a good family of the Duquaines. If one word could describe him, it was Poindexter. If Ruby made fun of her now….Melody would be the laughingstock of Verona.

“It’s just a stupid girly dance, anyway.” She gave Lauren what she hoped was a convincing smile.

Lauren eyed her skeptically. Smacking her forehead in frustration, she grumbled, “He’s gotta step up his game.”

For once, Melody didn’t argue. She was not going to the deb ball with Poindexter or worst of all, Jeffery.

“Grey really isn’t your colour,” Kate noted. She was perched on the edge of Eric’s bed beside Janet, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands. Several of Eric’s formal outfits were laid out beside them. Kate reached for another one. “Let’s try the black shirt with the grey pants this time.”

“I still don’t get why we have to do this,” Eric grumbled.

“You have to do this because Trent’s engagement is just a week away and I need to make sure you and your brothers look presentable for your father,” answered Janet.

Eric scoffed. “Why? We’re not the ones getting married –”

“No, but you’re still a Van Holden, and that means you have a part to play in maintaining the reputation of this family,” she said pushing the shirt and pants to his chest. “You can start by making sure you look presetable enough.”

Eric shot them both an annoyed glare before walking into his en-suite to change for the third time.

When he emerged, his step-mom and sister-in-law gave him the once over but remained silent.

“Well?” he asked them.

“Awful. Just dreadful,” said Janet. “The shirt, the pants … it’s just all wrong for you.”

Eric frowned, slightly offended. “I’m sure I don’t look that bad –”

“It’s not you, sweetheart,” assured Kate, “it’s just that you’re clothes seem to have doubled in size. Nothing is sitting on you properly.”

Eric turned to look at himself in the mirror and found that he had to agree. He’d lost a lot of weight since the accident and for someone who’d already been slim prior to that, he looked particularly awkward this time round.

Janet let out a sigh. “There’s only one thing for it: we’ll have to go shopping –”

Eric shook his defiantly. “No –”

“If not with me, then at least with your friends, but either way it has to be done. There’s no way I am letting you go looking like that.”

“But I hate going to the mall!” he protested. “It’s my version of Hell.”

“It’s either that version of Hell or the one your father will rain down on you,” Janet ground out and Eric released a frustrated growl at his ceiling.

There was no way his friends would agree to come with him to help pick an outfit, and even if they did, he would never ask them in the first place. They'd probably end up laughing so hard, they'd have a heart-attack.

I could always go alone ...

Who was he kidding? He was useless when it came to picking formal clothes.

Maybe he could ask Mel.

The familiar sound of “Bring Me To Life” played and Melody looked at her phone, surprised to see Eric calling her so early. It was only 6 p.m. He must have come home from football practice.

“What’s up, Casanova?”

“Mel, hey …” If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn Eric sounded a little nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

“Pfft, everything’s fine. I just … uh …”

“Are you sure?” Melody asked.

“Alright, fine, I lied,” he confessed reluctantly. “I’m not fine, I have a problem. A very big problem that I need your help with. But before I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I won’t,” Melody promised. “What is it?”

“My family has this … thing,” he began, “and I have nothing to wear, actually I do, but apparently everything I have is either too big for me, or too ugly according to my step-mom and sister-in-law.” He momentarily paused his babbling. “What I’m tryna say is that I need to buy some new stuff and I was kinda hoping you would come with me.”

Melody’s heart lurched. Suddenly she was the one babbling. “Me? Are you sure? I would be happy to help but I don’t really know anything about fashion...unless you’re trying to become a rock star. Or according to my aunt, a delinquent….”

“Janet calls me a delinquent whenever I wear a hoodie,” he pointed out nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t pay attention to it if I were you.”

“Well then she would probably hate me.”

“Janet can’t hate, the emotion isn’t in her DNA,” Melody could practically see the frown which probably formed on Eric’s head right now. “Anyway, you wouldn’t have to pick anything. My family have one of those personal stylists who usually picks stuff out for us. All you have to do is give me your opinion on what looks best on me.”

Melody smiled, relief flooding her features. “I can do that.”

“I could kiss you right now,” he said, clearly just as relieved as her.

Melody laughed. “How is that different from any other time, Casanova?”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “So I’ll meet you at the mall tomorrow at 12pm?”

“It’s a date, Casanova.”

Melody felt a weird mixture of excitement and nervousness. She didn’t even like going to the mall, but if Eric was going with her, then it couldn’t be so bad. She was touched that he had come to her with this problem, even if it was small. She realized that there relationship was going to the next level. Maybe it should have been obvious, but Melody just realized things were getting serious between them. Though she didn’t know what the future held for them both, she was starting to hope Eric would be able to open up to include her into his world more. And maybe, this was the first step.

The next morning, Eric was up early for a Saturday. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to his trip to the mall with Mel, if nothing else, at least it gave him a perfect excuse to spend some time alone with her, away from school, their friends and their families.

“Where you off to?” asked Marcus curiously as he watched Eric jog down the stairs, his car keys jangling between his fingers.

“The mall,” he replied, putting on his jacket. The weather in Verona had recently turned for the worst and the last thing he needed was to catch a cold.

“You can’t go today,” Marcus told him with a frown, “you’re supposed to be watching Rose, remember?”

Eric frowned in return. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I told you last night at dinner,” his brother reminded him. “I told you Kate and I have to take Trip for his check-up. We’re not allowed to take Rose with us, and no one else will be at home to look after her.”

Eric threw Marcus an apologetic look, recalling the doctor’s words about the strong likelihood of him experiencing short-term memory loss from the accident. He felt a stab of annoyance at seeing it come to fruition.

“My bad, Marcus,” he said, avoiding his older brother’s stare. “I guess I could take Rose with me, if you’re cool with it.”

“You wanna take Rose with you to the mall?” he asked, raising an amused brow. “This is Kate’s daughter, in case you’ve forgotten. She’ll drive you crazy.”

“I can handle it,” Eric assured him. “Where is she?”

“Watching cartoons in the TV room,” he answered, before a phone call interrupted him. Marcus pulled out the cell from his pocket, looking down at the number on the screen. “I gotta take this, Eric. Make sure she wraps up warm, alright? And remember the baby seat.”

Eric nodded as he watched Marcus head upstairs. He headed down the wide hallway passing doors on each side until he reached the third one to his left. Inside, just as Marcus had said, sat his daughter, in her pink onesie, sitting on the floor in front of the large cinema screen with a bowl of dry cereal in her lap.

“What are you watching, li’l monster?” he asked, walking up to her.

“Dora,” she answered, her eyes glued to the screen as her chubby hand dipped into the cereal bowl.

“So you’re busy then?”

She nodded her curly head. “Yes, Uncle Eric.”

“That’s too bad,” he sighed, feigning disappointment. “See, I was thinking of takin’ you to the mall with me –”

Before he even finished his sentence, Rose’s eyes flashed from the screen to meet his. “To the mall?” she repeated.

Eric nodded with a smirk.

Rose’s eyes widened, “To play dress up?”

“To play dress up,” he confirmed.

His niece’s eyes practically lit up. “Then what are we waiting for, Uncle Eric? Let’s go!”

Eric couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her bounce up off the floor, spilling the entire bowl of cereal, before running out of the room in excitement.

“I’m gonna wear my new dress!” he could hear her shout in the hall.

“No, you’re not,” he heard Marcus respond. Clearly he’d finished his phone call. “It’s freezing outside. Eric, help her get dressed!”

“Coming!” he called back, but not before sending Mel a quick message:

‘Bringing a little friend for you to meet. See you soon.’

Melody saw Eric’s message and couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. She had been hoping for some alone time with Eric, without teachers, or friends, or family interrupting them. But she guessed one friend couldn’t hurt. It would be better than no time at all.

She pulled into the parking lot, eyes scanning for his Range Rover. She found him parked in the front, close to the store. He stood near the back door and was unloading a car seat. She remembered Lauren mentioning her niece, so Melody could only guess this was Eric’s ‘little friend.”

“Hey, Casanova!” she called out, smirking. “So where’s this little friend of yours?”

At that exact moment, a small figure carefully jumped out of the vehicle dressed in the cutest winter outfit Melody had ever seen. She looked like one of those kid models in the catalogues and billboards. Melody noticed how she had Eric’s big blue eyes and chestnut ringlets. Her small button nose was already red from the cold, and as her eyes met Mel’s unfamiliar ones she quickly held onto her uncle’s hand.

“This is Rose,” he introduced with a smile. “My niece.”

Melody smiled gently at her. “Hi, Rose. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Melody.”

This time Rose hid behind Eric altogether.

“She’s always a li’l shy at first,” he explained. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her along.”

Melody smiled. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Great,” he smiled back before collecting his niece from behind him and swooping her onto his shoulders, causing her to explode into an adorable fit of giggles. “Let’s get this over an’ done with, shall we?”

“Uncle Eric, is Melody gonna help us play dress up, too?” Rose whispered, though Melody could still hear her.

“She is,” he confirmed. “That alright with you?”

Melody watched as the little girl glanced over at her before giving a cute smirk. “I guess that’s okay.”

Eric threw Melody a smirk of his own. “I think she likes you already.”

Melody grinned. “Well at least one person in your family has to like me.”

Eric chuckled at that as they both headed up towards the boutique.

“This place looks fancy,” she noted, eyeing the posh looking exterior and interior as they got closer. It was obvious that this establishment was reserved for the very highest of Verona’s upper class families. She wondered for a moment why Uncle Jack hadn’t mentioned it before.

“Ready to play dress up?” Melody teased, unable to help herself. Rose perked up at her two favorite words. She nodded shyly before giving Melody another cute little smirk. It almost reminded her of Eric’s.

“Sometimes, Uncle Eric helps me play dress up.”

Melody laughed, shooting an embarrassed Eric a look before returning her attention to Rose. “He must be a very good uncle.”

Rose nodded seriously. “Only Uncle Eric plays dress up with me --”

“Okay, kiddo,” Eric interrupted smoothly. “That’s enough about playing dress up.”

Melody laughed. “Nice save, Casanova. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He artfully ignored her, and was saved from responding altogether when the security guard standing outside opened the door for them to allow entry into the boutique.

“Wow,” Melody marvelled. “A security guard? Outside a place that sells suits?”

“Some of the pieces in there are worth double the price I paid for my Range Rover,” he explained, though Melody noticed he spoke without any hint of arrogance.

The bell above the door jingled as the door closed behind them and Melody tried to keep her mouth from opening in surprise.

Melody immediately felt out of place as her eyes swept over the array of Italian suits. The back wall was lined with shelves where neatly folded dress shirts. Suit jackets ranging from shades of gray, brown, tan, and black dangled on a rack. At the front of the shop, in the display glass case, were a rainbow assortment of different prints and colors of silk and linen ties.

“Ah, Mr Eric!” boomed a friendly voice from behind them. Melody turned to see a tall, middle-aged man with a trimmed white beard and a friendly face come up to greet them. He wore a monocle and a tape measure hung over his shoulders. “It’s been a long time,” he patted Rose on the cheek before shaking Eric’s hand. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Believe me, no one’s more surprised than me, Mr Beauchamp,” Eric assured him.

“You were forced to come here, weren’t you?” he smiled. “Who was it this time, Janet or Kate?”

“Both.”

The owner chuckled good-naturedly before indicating for him to what Melody could only assume was the VIP room. “Let’s see what we can do for you today.”

Before Eric could answer, Rose tugged on his hand. “Uncle Eric, where are the dresses? You can’t play dress up without dresses.” She said it bluntly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, right, the dresses …” Eric threw Melody a quick glance for help.

“Well, Rose,” Melody gently explained. “We’re here to help Uncle Eric play dress up, and dress up for boys is a little different. We have to find him a nice jacket, shirt, pants, and shoes.”

“We’ll find you the best ones, Uncle Eric,” Rose said brightly, immediately forgetting about the dresses. “Grandpa will be so happy.”

Eric scoffed and muttered, “That’ll be the day.”

The three of them were taken to a private room for only exclusive clientele. It was a beautifully decorated room with plush French Provincial couches and a glistening crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Have a seat,” the owner smiled, and Eric thanked him as he lifted Rose from his shoulders and onto the dark wooden floor. She immediately pulled off her woolly hat and ran towards the comfortable looking couch, attempting to climb onto it. “I’ll have Mr Bertrand’s assistant be with you shortly.”

“Mr Bertrand’s not here today?” asked Eric as he helped a struggling Rose onto the couch.

“No, he’s visiting his daughter for the winter holidays. But I can assure you his assistant will do a fine job. The three of you get comfortable. I’ll just go and bring her.”

Eric watched him go, a puzzled frown on his face. “Her?”

Melody looked equally unenthused. Like she wasn’t feeling out of place enough.

They waited in the room for a few minutes, in that time some of Mr Beauchamp’s assistants came in with some hot cocoa, which got Rose incredibly excited. Eric had to put her on his lap and hold the cup for her in case she tried to drink it all in one go. Melody couldn’t help but smile as she watched how naturally good he was with kids.

Had she not gotten to know him over these months, she would never have believed he could be so protective or caring of his family. Melody’s smiled widened when she noticed the adoring looks Eric showered Rose with when he thought she wasn’t watching. Or how he planted a kiss on the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

A few minutes later a sensibly dressed girl came in, looking barely older than Melody and Eric. She wore a formfitting red suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. The suit jacket had a plunging neckline that revealed a black undershirt with a lacy neckline. A diamond necklace dangled like a chandelier from her neck. She gave Eric a warm smile that was borderline flirty.

“Mr. Eric,” she greeted, practically gushing. Honestly, Melody thought with distaste. Where is her professionalism? “It’s nice to meet you.” She extended a hand for Eric to shake which he did. “I’m Sophia Bertrand, Mr. Bertrand’s assistant and niece.”

Rose, who was still sitting on Eric’s lap, shrunk a little into his chest at the newcomer. Eric gave her a reassuring pat on the back before looking up at the girl. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Melody could have sworn Sophia stood up a little straighter. With disgust she realized, she was preening. Melody shot her a subtle glower.

Sophia ignored Melody and turned her attention to Rose, bending down to be eye level with her. A fake smiled split her lips. “And who is this?”

Eric, who was clearly oblivious, smiled fondly at his niece, who still clung to him. “This is Rose.”

“Well, aren’t you the cutest?” she gushed.

Melody didn’t know if she was addressing Eric or Rose. The cheap compliment seemed to make Rose only wary. She gave Sophia a blank look before burrowing her head into Eric’s chest for protection. Melody was instantly proud of Rose’s impeccable judgment of character. Must have been a trait she inherited from Lauren.

Eric threw Sophia an apologetic look. “She’s very shy,” he explained. “I have no idea where she gets it from. No one in my family is shy.”

“Well, she has your eyes, so I suppose that’s a plus,” Sophia commented with an almost disappointed tone.

A flush crept up Melody’s neck as she realized the unspoken insinuation. Eric, of course, was still oblivious. Her embarrassment quickly ignited into anger as she realized Sophia was one of those shameless chasers, even when she believed Eric was in a committed relationship. With a child. None of that seemed to matter to her. Melody had to bite back a wicked smile. If she was going to believe they were an item, then who was Melody to stop her? If it was one thing Melody hated doing was disappointing people.

She deflected Sophia’s sugary smirk right back at her. Melody felt a twinge of smug satisfaction when Sophia’s eye twitched.

Ignoring her, Melody turned to Eric. “I guess she’s right.”

“Yeah, a lot of people point it out,” he nodded, utterly clueless as to the real meaning behind his words. For a moment, Melody almost felt sorry for them, but then she noticed Sophia giving him another admiring look, and that feeling disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Can we get started?” she asked, looking at her watch pointedly.

Sophia snapped out of her trance-like state and cleared her throat a little, before pulling out a tape measure from her suit pocket, and Melody didn’t miss the sudden look of unease on his face. At that exact moment Mr Beauchamp re-entered the room.

“I’m not gonna need to be measured, am I?” Eric asked him.

“Well, normally we would just use your last measurements, but you seem to have lost a lot of weight since then,” Mr Beauchamp explained, “so it would be better for us to work out your new size.” He turned to look at Sophia. “Go ahead and take down his new measurements. I’ll get a few of the new items that have just come in for us to choose from.”

“Ready when you are, Mr. Eric,” Sophia said politely but Melody could see the way her eyes glinted with anticipation.

Eric threw Melody a deeply uncomfortable look. She tried to give him a confident smirk, though she was sure it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re gonna have to let go of me, Rosie,” he said to her delicately, but she only shook her head with refusal. Eric looked over at Melody for support.

“Rose, come and sit with me for a bit,” she coaxed gently. Thankfully, she seemed to have taken to Melody enough to climb carefully off the couch towards her. Melody smiled softly at her, and this encouraged Rose to climb up onto Melody’s lap.

“How about we go pick a tie?”

“Dress up?” Rose asked hopefully.

“Dress up,” she nodded.

Rose beamed up at her adorably before turning to Eric. “We’re going to pick you the best tie ever! It’s gonna be pink with flowers and unicorns and baby elephants …”

“Don’t forget the fairy princesses,” Melody teased.

“Woah,” Eric exclaimed, though his smile indicated he was playing along. He looked up and caused Sophia to fumble as he turned his head. She shot him a look of mild irritation that he didn’t even notice.

“I draw the line at baby elephants and fairy princesses.”

“Whatever you say, Un-”

“Come on, Rose, I’ll race you,” Melody quickly interrupted before Rose could say the word ‘uncle.’

“Hey, Mel,” he stopped her, gently taking her elbow. “I just remembered I owe you a kiss.”

Melody smirked. “That’s right. About time you pay up.”

He leaned in to kiss her, pressing his lips to hers. This kiss was different. It was simple and pure, the sensation of his lips as feather soft as the beating of butterfly wings for the first time. Yet, it was sincere and strong enough to communicate how grateful he was that she was here with him. Her heart turned to liquid in her chest, leaving it feeling warm and full like she had sat next to a roaring fire on a cold December night. Her knees felt oddly weak. Again Melody felt how far they had come from that day in detention all those months ago, how serious their relationship had turned in such a short space of time.

Somewhere in the background, Rose shouted, “I found it! I found a pink tie!”

“You’re not really gonna let her pick a pink tie for me, are you?” Eric asked her.

Melody smirked, partly because of Eric’s concern and partly at Sophia staring demurely at the ground in discomfort, the tape measure hanging limp and useless in her hands.

“Well I was until that kiss.”

That comment made Sophia squirm in discomfort. Eric one the other hand was now grinning from ear to ear, clearly very proud of himself. Melody bit back a laugh.

“Mr. Eric,” she said meekly, “we really should finish the measurements.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Melody assured him. “I gotta make sure Rose hasn’t gotten into trouble.”

*

It took only five minutes for Melody to realise that Eric’s niece was one of those kids that had enough energy to climb Mt. Everest, take a trip to the moon and back, and be home for dinner, with little energy spent. She dashed like a bullet from one rack to another, her big blue eyes searching for something only she knew, despite already having in her hands every tie in the shop that held even the slightest hint of pink. Remembering her promise to Eric, Melody tried to come up with a gentle way of convincing Rose to look at other colours without upsetting her.

Melody browsed some light blue and green ties that would complement Eric’s eyes.

“Rose,” Melody called, holding up a turquoise silk tie with a paisley design, “Look how pretty this one is.”

“But … it’s not pink.”

Melody sighed, replacing it. She picked up a lavender tie, with a similar print. “How about this one?”

“That’s not pink either.”

“You’re right,” Melody nodded patiently. “Can I ask you a question, Rose?”

The little girl nodded cutely.

“Have you ever seen Uncle Eric wear anything pink?”

To her surprise, Eric’s niece nodded. “When Uncle Eric plays dress up with me.”

Melody nodded seriously, trying to bite back a laugh. If nothing was obvious that Eric loved this little girl, than that comment proved it beyond a reasonable doubt.

“You have a very good uncle.”

Rose nodded solemnly. “Uncle Eric is my favorite uncle. He is the only one who wants to plays dress up with me when we have tea parties. He’s the fairy prince.” Proudly, Rose added, “He loves the pink wings and wand I made for him.”

Melody’s smile widened. “I bet he does, and I bet they’re beautiful.”

Rose smiled in pride.

“Now,” Melody said, holding up the purple tie again. “Why don’t you tell me what you think of this tie?”

Rose frowned. “It’s purple.”

Melody nodded patiently. “That’s right. You know why purple is a special color?”

Rose shook her head.

“Because,” Melody explained, “blue and pink make purple.”

Melody might as well have told her that she was a fairy princess herself because in that moment Rose just looked up at her in absolute awe.

“Really?” she whispered.

“Really,” Melody confirmed.

“How?”

“Magic,” Melody answered simply.

“Wow,” she gasped. Rose looked down at the pink ties in her hand and then at the tie Melody held. “I think we should show the magic tie to Uncle Eric.”

Melody smiled triumphantly “Are you sure, Rose?”

Eric’s niece nodded eagerly. “We’ll tell him it’s magic. You can’t say no to magic!” Rose hurriedly held on to Melody’s hand which shocked her a little.

Melody smiled. “I guess you’re right. You can’t.”

Rose tugged on Melody’s hand as she broke into a run as they headed back to the VIP room.

“Uncle Eric!” Rose called, “We found a tie!”

Melody hoped that Sophia didn’t hear the ‘uncle’ part. When they entered, Eric was going through a rack of outfits that had been wheeled in.

“Just in time,” Eric said, looking up as they entered. “They’ve brought a rack of new stuff for me to—”

“Before that, Rose has something to show you,” Melody interrupted. “Go ahead, Rose,” she encouraged.

In the presence of Sophia and Mr Beauchamp, Rose shyly walked up to her uncle to hand over the ‘magic’ purple tie.

“What an excellent choice,” Mr Beauchamp remarked, causing Rose to blush and hide behind Melody. “That tie would go perfectly with this …” The owner pulled out a dark navy suit, slightly striped, and held it up near Eric. “A simple white shirt underneath would do nicely, I think.”

“I agree,” nodded Sophia.

Eric looked over at Melody. “What do you think, Mel?”

Melody smiled, reveling in the way Sophia stiffened at her nick name. Flashing Eric a smile, she answered, “It’s perfect.” And so are you. “Now you’re ready to audition for the part of James Bond.”

Eric quirked an amused eyebrow. “James Bond?” he echoed. “Where’s my phone when I need it.”

Melody rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Eric, why don’t you try these on?” suggested Mr Beauchamp. “I for one think Janet and Kate will definitely approve.”

“Let’s hope so,” Eric sighed before giving Rose’s curls an affectionate ruffle. “I’ll only buy this suit if you like it, Rose. Deal?”

She smirked from behind Melody and nodded, clearly still too shy to talk. Eric nodded in return nonetheless before disappearing behind the curtain to change into the navy striped suit.

It was a long while before Eric emerged again, and his eyes met only Mel’s, trying to deduce what she thought.

Seeing Eric in casual clothes was nothing compared to seeing him in a suit. The suit accentuated his tall, lean frame. The suit jacket had two buttons and a deep neckline, revealing the white undershirt and the purple tie Rose had selected. The navy suit and tie worked together to make his dark blue eyes seem more vibrant and penetrating.

“How do I look, Mel?” Eric smirked.

Melody returned the smirk, heart beating wildly and mouth dry as cotton. “Like you have a license to kill.”

Eric visibly blushed, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed. Trying to keep his cool, he faced his reflection in the mirror and fiddled with the collar of his shirt for a bit, before meeting Rose’s stare in the mirror.

“What do you say, Rose?” he asked. “I’m not buying it unless you like it, remember?”

“You look like a prince, Uncle Eric.”

Sophia’s head snapped up at the uncle part. Dang, Melody thought as Sophia’s eyes probed Melody’s. She offered Sophia an innocent smile tinged with victory.

“Mr Beauchamp, I think I’m gonna take this,” Eric said, giving his reflection one last nod of approval. “You can put it on my card.”

“Will do, Mr Eric,” the owner nodded.

Once Eric changed back into his old clothes, he swooped up Rose into his arms and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“You hungry, kiddo?” he asked her.

Rose nodded, “I’m so hungry I could eat a unicorn.”

“I’m so hungry I could eat you,” Eric said.

“Would you really do that?” she asked.

Eric nodded. “I sure would.”

Rose giggled. “You’re silly, Uncle Eric.”

“I know.”

Mr Beauchamp and Sophia gathered up the suit pieces and exited the room to ring it up and put it on Eric’s card.

When they were alone, Melody said, “You know she was all over you like a cheap suit, right?”

Eric looked back at her, puzzled. “Who?”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Sophia.”

Eric’s confusion only grew. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Sure she wasn’t. That’s why she was preening and practically salivating all over you.”

Eric almost choked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mel.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Melody snapped, arms folded across her chest. “Let me spell it out for you then. She thought that we were married, and that Rose is our kid. She was only being nice to Rose because she was hitting on you. But she acted like I wasn’t even there.”

Melody had expected Eric to react with anger and disgust, but instead she saw him smirk, as if he found the whole thing beyond amusing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Melody Grey,” he said, setting Rose on the floor before turning to face her fully. “Are you jealous of a little harmless flirting?”

Melody glared at him . “It wasn’t harmless. She knew that you’re in a relationship. Didn’t you hear me? She thought that we were married.”

“One, I did hear you, and two: yes, it was harmless. Wanna know why? Because I didn’t flirt back.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Wow, that’s so noble of you. Thanks for not flirting when you are already in a relationship!”

Eric sighed. “Come on, Mel, that’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m just saying whether she flirted or not, she had no reaction from me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” he asked.

“It’s not like she was ugly,” Melody admitted with loathing. And she wore Eric’s favorite color.

“I’m not understanding your question.”

Melody sighed. “Why don’t you ever notice when other girls hit on you even when I’m around? That’s my question.”

“That’s easy,” he replied. “It’s ‘cause I’m too busy staring at you to notice anyone else.”

Melody’s jaw threatened to unhinge. “What?”

Eric smirked. “You just want me to say it again,” he humored her anyway. “The reason why I don’t notice whenever girls hit on me when you’re around is ‘cause while their eyes are on me, my eyes are on … you.”

There was that sincerity in his eyes again. “Why?” she still insisted softly. “I’m not anything special.”

“I disagree. In a very short time, you’ve become very special to me.”

Her heart was roaring in her ears and for a moment, she wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

“Mel,” Eric said with uncharacteristic gentleness. His snaking around her waist as he drew her to his chest. She suddenly felt small in his arms. “Why don't you believe me?"

Melody didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, but Eric didn’t miss the moment of uncertainty.

He slid a hand under her chin, lifting it up so she would have to meet his eyes. “Hey, none of that.”

He raised a eyebrow, seamlessly transitioning back into his cocky self. “If I can’t tell you. I guess I’ll have to show you.”

In spite of herself, Melody laughed. “Whatever you say, fairy prince.”

Eric stared at her in horror. A blush raged across his face like a wildfire and Melody found it endearing.

“What did you just say?”

But she didn’t respond. Instead, she enveloped his lips with hers.

An hour later, Eric pulled up to the Van Holden drive, carrying a sleeping Rose in his arms. His niece had exhausted herself after lunch and had fallen asleep as soon as Eric had settled her back into her car seat for the journey home.

Marcus, who had been standing by the front door as Eric had pulled up, walked up to the pair of them.

“She finally wore herself out, did she?” he asked, taking the sleeping four year-old into his arms.

Eric nodded, “Out like a light as soon as I put her in the car seat.” He moved towards the boot of the car and proceeded to take out the shopping bags; among which was a bright pink one.

Marcus eyed it with a look of amusement. “So Janet sends you out to get a suit and you come back with a dress?”

“Funny. That’s for Rose –”

His brother’s eyes widened. “You bought her another dress? She already has an entire closet full of them!”

“Just look at that face,” Eric said, pointing at the sleeping four year-old. “How could I say no to that face?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna spoil her.”

The three of them entered the house and headed down the long wide hallway into the kitchen. Kate was sat by the worktop woking on the guestlist for Trent's engagement whilst Janet was standing next to the maids, overseeing dinner preparations.

“They’re back,” Marcus announced.

Kate glanced up to see Rose. “Oh, my baby’s asleep …”

“You’re baby just got bought another dress –”

Kate threw Eric a look of exasperation. “You’re gonna spoil her.”

“That’s what I said,” nodded Marcus.

“Hey, she’s my niece, she deserves to be spoiled.”

“Enough about the dress,” cut in Janet impatiently. “Where is your suit?”

Eric lifted the Beauchamp & Bertrand’s suit carrier in his hand and paused for dramatic affect. “Can I just say? Mr Beauchamp picked this out for me, so if you don’t like it you know who to blame.”

“Yes, alright,” nodded Janet, “now let’s have a look.”

Eric lay the suit carrier down on the table top before unzipping it to reveal his brand new suit for all to see. For a few seconds no-one spoke.

“Well?” he asked.

“Oh, Eric,” Janet released a sigh of relief. “It’s perfect,”

Even Marcus nodded approvingly. “Very dapper, little brother,”

“Your father will be so pleased when he sees you in this,” his step-mom continued, lifting the suit to take a closer look at it.

“Yeah,” nodded Kate. “He might actually crack a smile for once.”

"Don't bet on it."

Just as Eric had said that, both Marcus and Kate's phones buzzed. The two of them looked down at the message on their screens and Eric didn't miss the look of concern they exchanged with one another. What's happened now, he wondered.

"Janet, you're gonna have to watch the kids again tonight," Marcus said, finally breaking the silence.

Janet took the sleeping Rose into her arms and nodded understandingly.

"Keep me posted," she called after the pair of them, before he and Kate both disappeared down the hall.

Eric watched them go, and threw his step-mom a questioning look which she artfully ignored as she returned her attention to the maids preparing dinner. Clearly she wouldn't be giving him answers. He would just have to try his luck with Kate.

*

It was almost eleven o'clock at night, by the time Kate returned. Marcus stayed back in the office along with River, Trent and their dad, which only further aroused Eric's suspicions. Something was going on, something big, and he was determined to find out what it was.

He waited a while before deciding to approach Kate. She was outside in the back yard, perched on the wooden decking steps.

“Kate?”

There was a pause, “Hmm?”

Eric walked up to her and noticed the ash tray beside her and the wafts of smoke drifting lazily into the air.

“Your smoking,” he said, settling on the step next to her.

Kate laughed, blowing a blanket of smoke to one side. “Nice work, Sherlock. What gave it away?”

“I thought you wanted to quit.”

“I always want to quit," she said, "but then I come here and realise why that isn’t possible ...”

He watched as she breathed in her cigarette again.

“Something’s going on, isn’t it?”

She threw him a cautionary stare. “What makes you say that?”

"Where do I start?" Eric retorted. "First Marcus storms into the house demanding to speak to our dad, then you get called back early from Switzerland, Trent drops the bombshell that he's marrying some girl he's never met, Janet keeps getting these phonecalls, and then you and Marcus suddenly have to go back to the office." He paused to let out a sigh. "Marcus, River, Trent, dad ... they haven't even come home yet."

Kate simply scrutinised him for a long moment, before her lips twitched with amusement.

“You’re getting quite sharp at this, aren’t you? Took you long enough …”

Eric's eyes widened a little. “Does that mean I’m right?”

Kate rubbed her lips together with thought and breathed wearily. “It means that you're suspicions aren't completely groundless. It also means that it's nothing you need to worry about,” she added.

“That’s just an adult way of telling me to mind my own business,” Eric said with a pointed look.

“Then mind your own business.”

Eric kissed his teeth, half in disappointment and half in irritation. He should've known Kate wouldn't tell him what was going on, but that did nothing to stop him from finding out for himself.

Kate took another drag from her cigarette and blew a fresh blanket of smoke to the side before artfully changing the subject. “So Lauren told me about a dance you need to learn for your school play. What was it called again ..?”

“The Warts.”

“You mean the Waltz?”

"Whatever."

"How's it going?" she asked.

"I suck at it. It's so hard to learn."

“I could teach you.”

Eric shook his head immediately, “No.”

“Why not?” she questioned, “I used to be a professional dancer, you know, if anyone can help you, it’s me.”

“But Marcus –“

“Will never find out,” Kate assured him. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll be my own personal project, a lovely distraction from my day job. What do you say?”

Eric hesitated, “I really suck, Kate.”

“It’s fine –”

“No, I mean it,” he cut in. “D'you remember Lauren’s junior cotillion?”

Kate pulled a face as she relived the very painful memory. “Yes, I do remember.”

“Well times that by ten. That’s how much I suck.”

“Oh good; you’re back,” Uncle Jack said, looking up as Melody crossed the threshold Sunday afternoon, having caught up with Lauren. “I need you to change into something nicer for lunch.”

Melody stared at him blankly. “Where are going?”

“We’re not going anywhere; we’re having company. The Callores are coming over for lunch.”

“The Callores?”Melody asked in belief. “As in…Marvin Callore?”

Uncle Jack nodded and even smiled. If Melody didn’t know any better, she could swear he actually looked pleased. “So you know him?”

Marvin Callore was the head of the Computer Lab, with a Nintendo handheld console tucked into his back pocket. He was famous for wearing bowties.

Melody nodded. “You could say that.”

Uncle Jack nodded enthusiastically. “I am meeting with his parents to discuss a business proposition. In the meantime, you and Marvin can get to know each other. I have a strong feeling the debutante ball will also be a very good chance-”

“Are you trying to set me up? Melody sputtered. “I already have a boyfriend.”

“But Marvin is a respectable young man.”

Melody folded her arms. “And my boyfriend isn’t?”

Uncle Jack sighed. “I wouldn’t know, because I haven’t met him yet.” He gave her a pointed stare. But based on the amount of detentions and skipped classes you have been having, I am inclined to say he is a bad influence.”

Melody raised a challenging eyebrow, suddenly defensive. “So you thought arranging a playdate would make me forget about him?”

“Melody, this boy is nothing but a distraction. From your academics, your family, your future. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes that Elizabeth made.”

Anger steeled her voice. “And what mistakes were those?”

He sighed, raking hand through his hair. “Mary had a point about you throwing away your future. Elizabeth, as much as I loved her dearly, she made the same mistake I fear you’re making-”

“So my dad was a mistake? And so was their marriage? That’s like saying I was a mistake.”

Uncle Jack had the decency to look stricken. “Of course not, Melody. You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

Melody sighed, unable to stare at that all too familiar hurt expression afflicting his face. She nodded and stared down at her boots.

He sighed. “They’’ be arriving very soon. You should go get dressed.”

Melody gave a jerky nod. “Right.”

She changed into the blue velvet evening gown she had worn the opening night of the Duquaine Hotel. Though she traded her ripped jeans and faded t-shirt and combat boots for the circumstantial pomp of Verona, Melody left her skull earrings on, as a small act of defiance.

~
Melody descended the stairs to find the Callores at the foyer with Mary and Uncle Jack. The sound of laughter drifted through the spacious living room as she saw them all exchanging handshakes. Uncle Jack looked up and flashed Melody a smile.

“Oh, here comes my niece.”

She slipped into place beside Uncle Jack. He placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling proudly. “This is Melody.”

Melody forced a smile and met the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Callore, who were no doubt judging her, and wondering why they had never met her before. Melody fought the urge to jerk away in surprise as Mrs. Callore leaned forward to kiss Melody on the cheek. Then in a daze, she shook hands with Mr. Callore before turning her sights to Marvin who forced an awkward grin onto his thin lips. His metal braces flashed.

“Hi, Melody,” he greeted in a nasally voice reminiscent of Urkel. He nervously fiddled with his plait bowtie. “I like your skull earrings.” His parents’ eyes honed in on her ears and a look of disapproval flitted across their faces. Uncle Jack shot a questioning look to Melody.

“Thanks, Marvin. I like…” She fished for a compliment, “your bowtie.”

False or not, Marvin smiled more. “I received it as a gift from my grandmother

Uncle Jack cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Callore, I will show you to the study where we can discuss your newest software. Melody and Marvin can get to know each other in the living room. I’ll have the maids bring some snacks. ”

Nodding, the Callores followed Melody’s uncle down the hall while Melody reluctantly settled on the couch with Marvin. She was relieved when he sat on the opposite side of the sofa. Awkward silence ensued until the maids set down a tray of cakes and cookies.

To break the monotony, Melody reached for a brownie. Noticing Marvin eyeing her, she asked, “Would you like one?”

He shook his head primly. “No, thank you. I am lactose and gluten intolerant. I am also allergic to nuts, wheat, eggs, chocolate, cinnamon, along with various other food products...”

“So what do you even eat?” Melody blurted out.

Then she felt heat creeping up the back of her neck as she realized that was probably rude. But Marvin didn’t seem to mind

“My physician placed me on an all organic diet devoid of all the foods I am allergic to, and low in carbohydrates.”

“Right... So is it hard to not be able to enjoy certain foods?”

He shook his head, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Homo sapiens are the only animals that eat and drink for pleasure and not merely survival.”

“Right…” Melody drawled as he stared at her brownie accusingly. She was sorry she asked.

“Besides, do you even know how many carcinogens are in that?”

Melody set the dessert down and shook her head.

He gave a condescending stare. “Carcinogens are cancer causing agents.”

Melody smiled tightly. “I know what that means, Marvin.”

Irk prickled her skin when the dubious expression remain fixed on his pimpled face.

“We could go outside,” Melody offered, more for her sake than this his.

But Marvin shook his head, causing his metal frame glasses to slip down his nose like Santa Claus. “I’m allergic to pollen and I and being outside aggravates my asthma.”


“But it’s winter.”

“It is a chronic affliction,” he explained.

“Or inside works,” Melody mumbled. He nodded, making the glasses touch the tip of his nose.

“Since we are trying to become acquainted with one another, I think it is only appropriate that I start off with the history of my family business…”

Before Melody could protest, Marvin launched into a lengthy computer jargon jumble of a speech that lost her at the first word.