Page 19 of With Love, Melody
His heart pounded and acid crawled up his throat as he drove down all the streets near her home. No sign of her. He pulled onto Monroe Avenue, the nearest major street to her house, then circled around the block. Then he took Madison, first east, then west. Where was she?
“God, please!” How long had she been running? How long had he been looking? His gas light came on, but he didn’t stop. He circled through the square. No sign of her. She could be anywhere. She could be frozen in a snowdrift. The snow was coming down heavier and heavier, the wind blowing so hard he felt it through his closed door.
“Oh, thank you, God. Thank you.” Ahead, he saw a figure running toward the pier that jutted into the waters of Lake Michigan, ending at the lighthouse. Knowing it could only be her, he slammed into Park along the curb and jumped out into snow drifting along the street higher than his waist.
* * * * *
Melody was running west, straight into the driving wind. She didn’t know how long she’d been running, but she knew her feet were numb. The wind roared and the snow fell almost horizontally, blinding her and clinging to her cheeks and eyelashes. Her ears, underneath thick earmuffs, had long since frozen. Her thighs ached from the number of times she had started to slip and caught herself with a fast jerk of her leg muscles. At times the snow was so high she had no choice but to slog through it and let snow pack into her shoes around her ankles.
She didn’t care. She didn’t feel any of it. All she heard was her mom’s voice. Running was doing nothing to drown the truth.
Stupid.
Don’t you know anything?
You’ll always be a failure.
Why was I saddled with an addled daughter?
Whatever you do, you do wrong.
Can’t you do anything right?
When will you ever make me proud?
I should have ended you before you started like your father wanted. Then he wouldn’t have left me and left you with me.
The words didn’t stop, and neither did the awful ache inside Melody. Her mom was right.
The play was a failure. Because she was a failure. Everything in her life was a failure. What was the point? She would never amount to anything. She would never measure up to anyone’s standards.
Melody the disappointment. That was her role.
“Melody!” A voice called out through the gale, and her feet faltered. “Melody, wait!” She didn’t slow down, not caring who was tracking her down. She only wanted to run until the pain stopped. If it ever stopped.
“Melody.” A hand jerked her arm, and she stopped, startled to see TJ panting beside her. His breath left his mouth in puffs as white as the chunks of snow atop his winter hat. “Are you nuts? It’s below zero! You probably have hypothermia. Come on, my car’s back there.”
She wanted to protest, but her lips wouldn’t move. They’d long ago lost all feeling. Numbly, she followed TJ in the direction she’d come. As she took in her surroundings, it hit her slowly how many miles she had run. How had she ended up on the pier? When had she passed the town square? She was almost to the lighthouse, which meant she’d made it all the way down Madison without noticing. Who did something like that?
She must be a lunatic. Yay. That was a nice addition to her already-long list of deficiencies.
Her private berating continued until they neared TJ’s car, parked as close to the waterfront as a vehicle could get in winter. Almost there, her feet met ice under the snow, and she flew backward without warning. TJ swooped his arm back with lightning-fast reflexes and caught her, tugging her in hard against his chest.
“Gotcha.” His voice was low, and he didn’t release her even though her feet were now steady. Warmth emanated from his body, and she snuggled in closer, desperate to escape the cold. Desperate to feel safe. His other hand encircled her, holding her in an embrace. “I’ve got you, Mel. I’ve got you.”
His breath warmed her face, his heart beating hard where her shoulder pressed at a sideways angle against him. Standing like this brought her back. Way back.
It had been a cold day like this. She’d been crushing on TJ for almost four years. He was the best thing she’d ever had, but she was constantly terrified he would open his eyes one day and see what a loser she was and walk away.
“Come on, slowpoke.” TJ tugged at Melody’s hand playfully. “We have lots of homework.” He popped the trunk of his Camaro. How she had become best friends with a rich boy like TJ, she would never understand. But he wasn’t a spoiled brat like others in his social sphere. No, he was perfectly nice. And perfect. And nice to look at…
She bit her lip, dropping her eyes to the snow on the parking lot pavement. There was no point in thinking such thoughts. TJ would never see her as more than a pal. His favorite pal, yes. But nothing more.
“What’s got you so quiet?” he asked, dropping his backpack into the trunk and holding a hand out for hers. So sweet. He gave her a ride every day, whether she was going to Artisan’s Hope, the library, or home. She never let him take her all the way, though. He dropped her on the corner of 16th and Monroe, and she walked the remaining blocks. She might be poor, but she had dignity. She couldn’t bear for him to see the rundown place where she lived.
“Nothing. Just wondering when you’re going to get a girlfriend and forget all about me.” Mortified, she peeked at him timidly. She hadn’t meant to say that!
TJ shook his head slowly, leaning his back against the closed trunk. “No way. Not going to happen.”