I peel my shirt off and throw it into the tub, running the water over it. Then, I stand and remove my jeans.
“What are you doing?” Melody asks.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t like sitting in clothes that have been drenched in beer.”
She stands and turns around as I strip down to my briefs.
“Tell me what happened.” I wring out my shirt and jeans and hang them on a hook to dry.
“Rhonda thought it would be a good idea to dress up slutty and come out tonight.” She sniffles and I catch her eyes looking at me in the mirror. “Liam came over and it was clear he’d been drinking. He wasn’t happy about how I left our date. So, he tried to grab me, and when I pushed him off me, he called me a gold-digging whore just like my mother. He said I didn’t deserve to go here, and I know I’m just overreacting, but it wasn’t his words that made me freak out. It was the way he grabbed me. I felt like I was a little girl all over again. Ready to take a beating from my father.”
“That’s not stupid, Melody. That’s PTSD.”
She turns around and looks at me. I mean really looks at me like she’s trying to figure me out. I couldn’t see before, but she’s cradling her arm and rubbing small circle on her skin.
“Is that where he grabbed you?” I ask, pointing.
She nods, her pink hair tumbling about her shoulders.
“Can I see?”
She hesitates, before extending her forearm out to me. The water from the bathtub keeps running in the background as I gently hold her arm. She watches as I bring it up to my mouth, placing a soft kiss on her skin.
Her mouth pops open and her eyes shimmer with unshed tears.
“I should get going,” she says, pulling back her arm, and running her hands down the sides of her dress. “You should shower. You smell like stale beer.”
She goes to leave, but I can’t stand to see her like this.
“Melody, if you wait for a minute, I can walk you home.”
For a moment I think she’s going to shoot me down, but then she nods. “Okay.”
She shuts the door and I hear her the springs groaning as she sits on the twin sized bed.
My clothes are still soaked, so I turn the knob, so the water goes from a bath to a shower. I wash with the soap provided, scrubbing the sticky liquid off my skin.
There’s a stack of towels propped up on a rack situated over the toilet. Once I step out of the shower, I grab one to dry off. But it’s still going to be awhile for my clothes to finish drying. I step out into the room with the towel wrapped around my waist and find Melody waiting with a stack of clothes in her hands.
“I found these in the closet. I figured you might be needing it.”
She unveils a crimson sweatshirt and an unfortunate set of shorts that I assume will just cover my ass, and not much else. Melody must see the expression on my face because she says, “It’s all they had. I mean I could give you my dress, but I don’t think you’d fit.”
I grunt and grab the clothes. “If I’m getting you out of that dress, it won’t be to put it on myself, I can guarantee you that.”
She blushes as I pull on the ill-fitting apparel. Once I’m situated, I grab my still wet clothes.
“Let’s get you home.”
She smiles up at me, and my heart flips in my chest.
“Those shorts really are something.” And that smile is worth how uncomfortable I feel wearing these. I’d wear them all day just to get her to look at me like this.
While we leave, people stop and stare at us. I can overhear some of them as we pass. I don’t give a shit what they think, but Melody doesn’t deserve their scrutiny. I protectively grab her by the wrist, glaring at anyone that dares say anything about us leaving together.
“Isn’t that his stepsister?” Jenna asks her friend with her obnoxiously loud voice. Her hands dig into her hips as she stands between us and the way out.
“Keeping it in the family, huh Milford?” Someone else comments.
