Chapter Eighteen

Melissa stepped out of the car, with Tommy following her.

 

"Uncle Martin, I'm so sorry! I was gonna call..." she started explaining.

 

Martin got up from the front steps. His eyes were red. His hair was a mess. His face was greasy, and he looked breathless. He did not respond to Melissa. He simply looked at Tommy, and told him calmly, yet with a cold tone, "Leave."

 

"Mr. Lauren, we lost track of time-" Tommy said defensively.

 

"JUST...leave." Martin continued.

 

Tommy stuttered for a while, then realized it was best to do as he was told. Melissa's heart was in her throat; not only because she knew Uncle Martin was infuriated by her stunt, but she wondered how well Tommy would take being illtreated in this manner. Her life was complicated as it was. She could not risk losing what felt like the best thing in her life. With a throbbing heart, she watched her boyfriend get back in his car, and silently drive away. Why didn't he say goodbye? Is he mad at me?

 

Martin turned his back to Melissa, and walked into the house. The silence and tension killed the girl bit by bit. She would rather be scolded, just to know what was really going on in everyone's minds. How much trouble was she in, exactly? She just awkwardly followed her uncle, not knowing what to do or say. At this point, she started hoping he wouldn't say anything at all. She would just go into her room, and sleep. Deal with it in the morning.

 

I've been doing that a lot, lately. She remembered leaving her clothes lying around on the floor, thinking she would pick them up later. She watched Martin touch the knob on the door to his room.

 

"I'm sorry..."

 

Martin stopped.

 

"I was going to call you, but I didn't have your number memorized."

 

He turned bloodshot eyes towards her.

 

"You were supposed to be home from work by 6." he spoke coldly. She could barely hear him.

 

"I know, I-"

 

"LET ME FINISH," he started, and once he'd silenced her, his collected- or rather, self-restricting voice-returned, "let me finish. I expected you here at 6. When you weren't back by 7, I ran to your workplace, to see what was keeping you. I got there, and nobody's around. So I waited for your friend Gabriella to come out, only to find that she has NO IDEA WHERE YOU FREAKING ARE!" This was the first time Melissa ever heard her uncle shout. She wouldn't have known how to respond to that, even if she'd been allowed to. She just stared at him wide eyed, a gasp caught in her throat.

 

"She tells me that you and your friends took off without letting her know where you were going. So I thought, Okay...you're probably going to be back soon...You've never done anything too irresponsible so far. But what am I to make of this, Melissa? I don't even have any of their numbers! And you got your phone confiscated at school. Congratulations on that, by the way. Why would you EVER think it was okay for you to come home at 11?"

 

Melissa just stared at him, not knowing what to say. He didn't give her much of a chance to respond, though.

 

"And then you come home with...that boy. Melissa, you do realize how much trouble you're in, right?" he said, laughing hysterically now.

 

Melissa shrugged, gulping. Then realization hit her.

 

"Uncle Martin, it's not what it looks like! We were just...TALKING!" She blushed. Martin didn't say anything for a while, letting her words register.

 

"I don't care what you were doing. You're not seeing him anymore." he continued to speak coldly.

 

"What? Uncle Martin, you can't do that; I love him!" she protested immediately, and for a second Melissa saw a spark of fury in his eyes that disappeared as soon as it had arrived.

 

"Is that what he told you? That he loves you and that one day he's gonna marry you and take you away from all of this? Has he tried anything on you yet? Cuz if he hasn't, it won't be long."

 

"I'm not an idiot, Uncle Mart-"

 

"YOU'RE FIFTEEN! And you're not seeing him, that's final."

 

"You and I both know what happens when you forbid a teenager to do something. Being authorative won't get you into my mom's bed. You're not my dad. Stop f*****g acting like you are." This time, it was Melissa who was being the cold one. But she still couldn't keep her voice from shaking as she said it. She knew what she'd said was wrong, and so to escape its consequences, Melissa did not hesitate to vanish into her room, right after the words had been spoken, and then slammed her door shut.

 

Melissa was finally in her own room, and could afford to let the entire night's events sink in. She didn't have to hold anything in. It was like the relief she felt after finally taking off those awfully uncomfortable heels. And she chose to use that liberty by weeping. No there wasn't any Tommy to cmfort her then, and she wasn't sure if he was going to be in the future. She had a lot to think about. And once again, all the pressing issues that she had been pushing away began to resurface. Again, she thought about how she never dealed with anything that happened to her.

 

Tommy could probably help. He probably knew the answer. He seemed somewhat like her saviour. But had he been offended by the way her uncle treated him that night? How much more of it would he take before he realized no girl was worth being disrespected for in this manner? And why did Martin hate that boy so much anyway? He was being so unfair! She was in bed, crying into her pillow about all of this when she heard the knob on her door turn.

 

Her instinct made her pretend to be asleep. Her face was already conveniently hidden by the mess of her blond hair. Martin had probably come in to apologize, and though Melissa would have loved reconciliation, if she spoke to him, he would know she had been crying. Keeping her eyes shut, her hearing became keener and she heard his footsteps approaching her bed and then the noise stopped altogether.

 

What's he doing? Does he know I'm awake? S**t!

 

She nearly jumped as she felt the back of someone's hand touch her hair. He gently stroked it, and then clearing a little space where her forehead was, he laid a soft kiss. He picked up the blanket resting at her feet, then covered her with it. Then she felt him move away, and sensed the lights being turned off and the door to her room being closed once more. Relieved he hadn't figured out she was faking, she decided it was time she actually went to sleep, feeling cozier at the thought of her uncle's kind gesture.

 

He’s a good guy.

Reviews

[BL]

The characters are very believable and have developed consistently over the chapters (I haven't read it all) and that gives this story a strong mooring point. I am enjoying the realism of it and feel I know the people from your descriptions. Looking forward to reading more too

[Blue Ivory]

I'm glad you think so. Thank you so much for staying with me :)

[Leslie Philibert]

A good write that I scanned and enjoyed. Try to improve the layout, less spaces between the paragraphs
(unless it was intentional))...good one, I will follow this !

[Blue Ivory]

Oh yeah, I hadn't noticed that.