PAST
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MELINA'S POV
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"Are you asleep?"
A quiet whisper sliced through the silence, sending a chill down my spine that crawled all the way up to my brain.
I couldn't move. I couldn't turn. I was frozen in place.
Who is that?
"Shit, I should've come earlier," the voice muttered.
Wait. I know that voice.
I peeked through one eye, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Theo? Theodore Frost?
Sitting on the floor beside my bed, looking right at me, was Theo.
"What are—" I started, but he quickly clapped his palm over my mouth.
"Shh, shh. Don't scream, I'll explain," he whispered cautiously, glancing at the door like some undercover agent.
My eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion. What is this idiot doing in my room at this hour?
I pushed his hand away and whispered sharply, "What are you doing here? And how did you even get in?"
Theo shrugged, as if climbing into people's bedrooms was the most natural thing in the world. He pointed toward my wide-open window.
"It's easy," he said casually. "For thieves."
"Who gave you permission to jump into my room like that?" I hissed, whispering angrily.
"You were sleeping," he said matter-of-factly. "I texted you. I wanted to talk."
Before I could respond, he stood up, brushed off his jeans, and started walking straight toward my door as if he owned the place.
What the heck is wrong with this guy?
I threw my blanket aside and sprang out of bed, chasing after him.
Just as he grabbed the doorknob, ready to waltz out of my room, I yanked him back by the hair, locked the door behind us, and glared at him.
I saw that smug smirk of his—he was clearly enjoying himself. He wouldn't actually walk out and open the door. Never.
"Ah! What the— You psycho woman! That hurts!" he whined, plopping down on my bed while rubbing his head.
"What were you about to do?!" I whisper-yelled.
"What? I was just going to say hi to your mom, dad, and sister," he said innocently—except I could see the teasing glint behind his act.
I stared at him, deadpan. "Do you want to get me killed?" I asked sarcastically.
"Can we talk now?" he asked, lying back on my bed like it belonged to him.
"No!" I snapped. "We can talk tomorrow. At college."
I grabbed him by his arm amd started yanking him out of my bed, but this dude is not budging.
"Nah, it can't wait," he said, nonchalantly kicking off his shoes—onto my bed.
For God's sake, take off your shoes.
Oh my—this guy is going to give me a stroke.
"Fine," I sighed, exasperated. "Let's ta—"
A sudden knock on my door made me freeze. My eyes widened in horror as they darted toward Theo, who was lying there like nothing in this world affected him.
Jerk.
"Melina, you asleep?"
Oh, duck. Melodie.
My head snapped toward Theo, panic flooding my chest. His response? He stood up happily and started walking toward the door.
I lunged at him, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him back. "You! Stay there!" I mouthed furiously, pointing toward the bed.
He looked confused and mouthed back, "On the bed?"
"Under the bed," I hissed, pushing him down.
He hesitated but eventually crawled under, grumbling the whole way.
"Stay there," I whispered, kneeling to make sure he was fully hidden. His face peeked out from the shadows like some pitiful stray cat.
Poor boy.
Another knock. "Melina?"
I forced my voice to sound sleepy. "Yeah?"
"Can I come in?"
Oh duck, again.
"Mm-hmm," I mumbled as I half-opened the door and stuck my head out, perfectly masking a sleepy face while my brain and body were wide awake with panic and horror—courtesy of the senior boy hiding under my bed.
After a moment of silence, she mumbled an "Okay," and her footsteps faded away. I exhaled the breath I didn't realize I was holding and collapsed onto the floor, making sure the door was locked tight.
Under the bed, Theo whispered, "You're welcome."
I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt. "You're dead meat, Frost."
His muffled laugh gave away his smugness.
Theo crawled out from under the bed, struggling a little but eventually sitting beside me on the floor. I sat up next to him.
"What did you want to talk about?" I whispered quietly.
The moonlight fell across his face, making his features look almost ethereal. I noticed he was handsome—though I had noticed that before, I hadn't realized how much. His hair was slicked back except for one stubborn strand that kept falling onto his forehead. His eyelashes were long, and for a second, time felt like it was moving in slow motion.
It was like he had some kind of built-in angelic filter.
"Are you listening to me?" Theo asked, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.
"Uh… yeah, yeah," I stammered.
He suddenly grabbed my leg and pulled me toward him, making me slide closer.
"Can I start?" he asked.
I nodded, goosebumps rising all over my body.
"Zara is sad," Theo said, immediately flipping my mood upside down.
I looked away. "So am I. So is Dove."
"I know." He turned fully to face me.
"She was just awkward. It's not because she hates you."
"I know."
"Then why aren't you talking to her?"
"I have problems too, Theo. I'm also struggling to initiate things," I mumbled, staring down at my fidgeting fingers.
"Hmm," he hummed, leaning back against my bed.
"You didn't even look at me today."
I glanced at him. Did he come here because of Zara… or because I didn't look at him?
"I don't remember that," I said.
"But I do. Very well," he replied, his gaze almost piercing through me.
My eyes shifted to his hands. His knuckles were bruised.
My eyes widened, but he quickly hid them.
"It's nothing," he mumbled. "I just punched the wall, thinking it was that asshole my mom married."
"Your dad?" I asked carefully.
"Nah. He's not mine or Zara's dad. Our real dad left Mom for a younger woman. Mom remarried. He's our stepfather," Theo explained.
"Will you talk to Zara tomorrow?" he asked.
It's crazy how quickly this guy jumps from topic to topic. My minds says it's because he doesn't want to talk about the topic any further.
I didn't know. I was scared. My mind played a reel of imagined accusations:
You didn't let me talk last day, what are you doing today?
You left without telling me when you saw my stepdad that day.
You acted like a stranger the next day—what are you doing.
I sighed shaking those scenarios off from my head, turning towards Theo. He was looking at me without blinking, his head leaning on my bed.
"Show me your hands," I said, meeting his eyes.
He didn't protest. He placed his hand in my palm, keeping his Eyes on me.
"You didn't treat it?" I asked softly as I carefully started tending to his busted knuckles with my first-aid kit.
As I worked, I noticed his expression shift. His eyes scanned my cheek, where the bruise was visible.
He gently lifted his hand and brushed his thumb against the mark, his gaze dropping to my arms and shoulders—where the bamboo stick had left swollen welts.
I wanted to hide. But he had already seen.
His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape. "What's happening…" he asked quietly.
"It's nothing."
"This is not nothing, Melina. It's not."
"You don't have to care."
"I don't have to care, but you can?" he shot back, gazing at me as I treated his wounds.
... I don't want to talk about that. Not now.
"It's late. Leave," I told him firmly.
It seems like he read my face, he gave up.
"We'll talk tomorrow. For real," he insisted.
"No thanks," I said sarcastically, opening the window.
He climbed out onto the sunshade, and I leaned out to make sure he landed safely.
He looked up at me with that same smug smile. He winked before jumping onto the tree branch and landing on the ground.
Thank God we don't have dogs.
He hopped over the fence, got on his bike, and looked up at me one more time.
He blew a flying kiss. I made a disgusted face. He laughed, revved the engine, and drove off into the night.
Even after he was long gone, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.
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"I hate her. I really hate her. She's pulling Theo away from me," Ellie's voice trembled through the phone, raw and broken. Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of her bed.
"You don't love Theo, Ellie," her friend replied. "You're just upset because he's not giving you attention anymore. Don't glorify that as love."
"You're saying that because the she in question is Melina—your sister," Ellie spat, glaring at Melodie through the phone.
"Shut up. I hate her too. You hate Melina because Theo doesn't give you attention. I hate her because she's stealing our parents away," Melodie whispered clenching her jaw.
"Yeah… but why is she silent?" Ellie asked, noticing the third friend hadn't spoken.
"Maybe she's thinking about Theo. ," Melodie said, teasing.
"Right, Angela?" Melodie finished.
Angela's laughter echoed through both phones.
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