Melody

by V. C. Andrews

  looked disappointed and once again dropped his gaze to his plate. "But first, I promised May I would do

  some homework with her," I added.

  Aunt Sara smiled. "That's nice of you, dear. I'm

  sure May appreciates it."

  She signed to her and May signed back,

  expressing her enthusiasm. I went upstairs with her

  and worked with her on her reading and speaking

  exercises. At a quarter to eight, though, I had to leave.

  I explained that she would probably be asleep when I

  returned, so I kissed her goodnight.

  Cary had gone up to the attic. I heard him

  moving about while I worked with May, but now he

  was quiet, still. I found a blue cardigan sweater to

  wear over Laura's yellow dress. It was a little over

  sixty degrees outside, but the sky was clear with a

  three-quarter moon that put a bone-white glow over

  the sand.

  "Don't be too late, dear," Aunt Sara called from

  the living room when I headed for the front door. "I won't," I promised. My heart was pounding,

  both from the excitement and from guilt. I hated lying

  to her, but there was no doubt in my mind what her

  and Uncle Jacob's reactions would have been if they

  had known I was planning to meet a boy on the beach. They have no right to restrict me, I told myself. This family, especially, has no right to tell me what I should and shouldn't do. Never before did I feel as much on my own, as much in control of my own destiny. Mommy had deserted me, lied to me, ignored my feelings and my needs. She knowingly left me with people who looked down on us. She had left me to fend for myself. And that's just what I would do, I

  told myself.

  All my life I had believed in being honest. I

  believed in the ultimate goodness of people, only to

  find out that my own parents had deceived me. Who

  did I have but myself? I thought. Driven by my rage

  as much as I was drawn by Adam Jackson's magical

  eyes, I bounced quickly down the steps and walked

  away from the house. I looked back once. I thought a

  curtain in an upstairs window moved, but other than

  that, there was no sign of anyone watching, so I

  veered left onto the beach and plodded through the

  sand. I quickly discovered it was easier to walk with

  my shoes off. The sand, still holding on to the day's

  sunlight, felt warmer than the air.

  As I drew closer to the ocean, I saw the moon

  walk on the water and heard the roar of the surf. The

  water looked inky, mysterious and the stars on the

  horizon blazed with a brightness that filled my heart with even more excitement. In moments I was far enough out on the beach to sense the solitude. The Logans' house was lit up, but looked toy-like and distant after another few minutes of my walking away

  from it.

  I went up and down the hilly terrain. At the top

  of the dune, I gazed toward the place on the beach I

  had been when Adam had first found me. I saw the

  glittering flames of a small bonfire and my heart

  thumped. Would he be surprised to see that I'd

  actually come, I wondered. I was surprised, myself. When I drew closer, I saw his motorboat

  anchored on the beach and heard music from his

  radio. He was sprawled on the blanket, his hands

  behind his head, and he was gazing up at the sky. He

  wore a white polo shirt and a pair of white shorts. He

  was barefoot. If he heard me approach, he didn't show

  it. I stood beside him for a moment before he slowly

  turned, his face glimmering in the moonlight with that

  polished smile. He sat up.

  "I'm glad you came," he said. "It's a great night.

  It would have been a shame for you to miss it." He

  patted the space beside him on the blanket. "Did you

  have any trouble getting out?"

  "No," I said. "I dug a tunnel."

  He laughed. "Great. So?" he said after a

  moment, "Are you just going to stand there? You

  didn't come all this way to watch me lie on a beach

  blanket, did you?" he asked.

  "Maybe. Don't forget my uncle and aunt don't

  allow television in their house."

  He threw back his head and roared with

  laughter. Then he grew serious and gestured for me to

  come to him. "It's very cozy on this blanket." I lowered myself to my knees and put my shoes

  down before sitting on the blanket, close to the edge. He stared with a quizzical look on his face and

  then he shook his head, still smiling. "Aren't you the

  tease?" he said. "All right, I'll play hard to get, too."

  He lay back on his hands to look up at the sky. "I'm not a tease."

  "Of course you are. All girls are."

  "Well, it's not true about me."

  He turned over and braced his chin on his hand

  to gaze at me. "Really? Well, why do you work so

  hard at being beautiful if not to have boys look at you

  longingly?"

  "I don't work so hard at being beautiful." "I imagine you don't," he said nodding. "You

  are what I would call a natural beauty. That's why all the cats in school are clawing at you. So," he said, sitting up again, "tell me about your life in

  coalmineville. Leave a boyfriend crying in his beer

  when you came to the Cape?"

  "I'll bet. Well, his loss is my gain." He

  snickered. "Come a little closer. I won't bite," he said.

  "You want me to beg? Is that it?" he asked when I

  didn't move.

  "I don't want you to beg, no."

  "So?"

  I shifted on the blanket until I was beside him. "Now that's better. At least I can smell your

  hair." He put his nose to my head and then kissed my

  forehead. "And I can look into those terrific eyes. You

  know you turn me into jelly, don't you?"

  This time, I had to laugh. "Don't you mean

  cranberry sauce?" I asked.

  That brought a wide smile to his face. His blue

  eyes seemed to sizzle as they blazed down at me.

  "You're smart as well as beautiful. A rare jewel." He

  kissed me on the lips, but I was so tense I thought he

  would hear my nerves twang.

  He gazed at me with a curious smile, then he

  leaned over to his right where he had a cloth bag. He

  produced a bottle of vodka and two glasses. Then he dipped his hand into the bag and came up with a jar of cranberry juice. "How'd you know I had cranberry

  juice? Some little bird at school whisper in your ear?" "I didn't know."

  "It's a great drink with vodka. My father's

  favorite. Let me fix us a couple."

  "I don't like drinking whiskey," I said quickly. "This isn't whiskey. It's vodka. Doesn't stink on

  your breath as much, and when you cut it with the

  cranberry juice, you hardly notice it. But it sure makes

  you feel good. I'm sure you've had it, right?" "Of course," I said, even though I never had.

  All I had ever tasted was Mommy's gin and I never

  could understand how or why she liked it so much. After he made the drinks and handed me my

  glass, he tuned the radio to a station that played softer

  music.

  "Let's make a toast," he said tapping his glass

  against mine. "To us. To good times and good

  weather forever."

  I took a sip. He was right. It didn't taste as bad

  as Mommy's gin. />
  "So where did you used to go at night with your

  boyfriends in West Virginia: old coal mines?" "Sometimes," I said, even though the very thought of going into a coal mine at night was terrifying. I didn't want him to think I wasn't as

  experienced or as sophisticated as the girls here. He brought his glass to his lips and urged me to

  bring mine to my lips. "Keeps you warm inside," he

  promised. I drank some more. "Was the sky as

  beautiful at night in West Virginia?"

  "Yes."

  ,,But you didn't have the ocean. The ocean

  makes the sky look better, doesn't it?" He moved

  closer, putting his arm around my waist. I looked at

  the sky where it merged with the horizon. The water

  was glimmering and the stars did seem brighter than

  ever, some actually twinkling on the water. He

  nudged my cheek with his nose and kissed me softly

  on the neck.

  A flow of warmth rushed down over my

  shoulders to my breasts. Nervous, I drank some more.

  Then I pulled a little away from him.

  "I like this song," I said. "Don't you?" "What? Oh, yeah." He reached for the bottle of

  vodka and refilled my glass. "Feels good, right?" "Yes."

  "Let's see, this time we'll toast to . . the end of

  school. May it come quickly and put me out of pain." He clinked my glass again. "Quick, drink or we won't get our wish," he urged. I took a long sip and thought

  this time the vodka was a lot stronger.

  "I thought you were a good studious--I mean

  student," I said.

  He laughed. "I do all right. Adam Jackson does

  just enough to make his father happy with his grades,"

  he bragged.

  "Isn't your father a lawyer'?" I asked him. "Yeah, but don't worry. I won't sue you if we

  don't have a good time tonight."

  "Do you want to be a lawyer?" I asked quickly

  as he leaned over to kiss me.

  "Maybe. I don't know. My father wants me to

  be." He brushed his lips against mine and then turned

  abruptly and lowered his head to my lap so he could

  look up at me. "You look great from down here," he

  said. He reached up and fingered the buttons on my

  cardigan sweater. I put my hand over his. "You're not

  cold, are you?"

  "A little," I said.

  "Take another drink. Go on," he urged. "You

  won't be cold long."

  I did and he smiled. His finger undid one button

  and then another.

  "You looked great in this dress today," he said.

  "Like a fresh flower. I was jealous at the way some of

  my friends were looking at you."

  His finger traced the valley between my breasts.

  Then he lifted himself slowly, reached behind my

  neck, and gently brought me down to meet his lips. It

  was like a kiss in the movies, his lips pressing against

  mine, his tongue moving between my lips, the music

  around us, the stars above us. I felt warm all over. My

  mind reeled. He took my glass of vodka and cranberry

  juice from me, urged me down to the blanket, and

  then turned so he was lying face down over me. "I just knew you and I would click," he said.

  "How did you know?"

  "Adam Jackson knows women."

  "You talk about yourself as if you were

  someone else." I giggled. "I never heard anyone do

  that."

  "Simple explanation," he said, shrugging, "I'm

  bigger than one person."

  He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me long

  and hard, his right hand moving over my ribs to my

  breasts.

  "You are delicious," he said. My pulse was

  racing. I looked past him at the stars and they seemed to blur and merge. He kissed my neck, then lowered himself so he could move his tongue under my collar, toward my breasts. I felt him lift me gently and find the zipper behind my dress. I started to resist, but the zipper flew down and he quickly nudged my dress

  over my shoulders, driving his mouth to my breasts. It was as if I were on a magic carpet and not

  just a beach blanket. It seemed to lift both of us off the

  sand and begin to turn in a counter-clockwise circle.

  He had the straps of my bra down and was

  manipulating the hook with surgical expertise. It

  popped and his hand moved up under the garment

  instantly, lifting it away. Before the air could touch

  my naked bosom, his lips were there, nudging,

  strumming my nipples.

  I felt a weakness in my legs as his legs moved

  in between and forced mine to separate. It was

  happening so fast--the blinking, out-of-focus stars

  were falling like a downpour of diamonds around us,

  the blanket was spinning, his hand was under the skirt

  of my dress and his fingers were toying with my

  panties. The roar of the ocean covered my small

  protests and he was saying, "You're perfect. I knew

  we would be great together,"

  But this wasn't romantic and lovely. This frenzy of passion frightened me more than it excited me. Too

  fast, I thought. It's happening too fast.

  I pushed at his chest and shook my head, but he

  smothered my exclamation with his lips, jabbing his

  tongue harder into my mouth. I nearly gagged, and

  when he pulled back I screamed. "Stop it!"

  "What?" he cried. "You wanted this, didn't you?

  Otherwise, why would you come here? Just relax. Lie

  back and enjoy Adam Jackson."

  My arms were too small and weak to hold back

  the weight of his upper body. I started to cry as he

  lifted me easily and began to slip my panties down my

  thighs. I was shaking my head and pleading. I could

  hear his heavy, hard breathing and I tried to turn my

  mouth from his, but he seemed to have grown in size.

  I saw him in the same distorted way I saw the stars.

  He resembled a great jellyfish spreading over me,

  encompassing me.

  "Please . . . stop!" I pleaded.

  He pulled his head up to look down at me

  disdainfully.

  "You are a tease," he said, "and Adam Jackson

  is not to be teased."

  I thought I would pass out beneath him. My

  eyes rolled, my mind went dark for a moment, and then, suddenly I felt him rise off me, his head going back first and then his lower body lifting. I opened my eyes to see Cary pulling him away, clutching his hair, and grasping his right arm. He jerked him so hard he

  fell back on the sand.

  "Get off her!" he cried.

  Adam turned over on the beach quickly and got

  to his feet. I sat up, my stomach gurgling. The two

  boys faced each other. Cary's hands were clenched

  into small mallets. With his shoulders hoisted like a

  hawk, he stepped toward Adam.

  "Come on," he said. "Let's see how you protect

  that precious handsome face of yours."

  "Get out of here!" Adam whined. "She wanted

  it," he said pointing at me. "She came here, didn't

  she?"

  Cary gazed at the bottle of vodka on the

  blanket.

  "You got her drunk, you bastard. You took

  advantage of her."

  Cary lunged at him and Adam jumped back. "You're crazy!" he cried. "Your whole family's

  crazy, including her!" He backed away. "I'm not going

  t
o fight over her." He continued to back toward his

  boat. Cary stood glaring at him. Then he turned, reached down for the bottle of vodka, and heaved it in Adam's direction. The bottle smashed against the side

  of the boat and splattered.

  "You're out of your mind! You'll be sorry,"

  Adam threatened, but he pushed his boat away from

  the shore and quickly jumped into it when Cary

  threatened to come after him. "This isn't the end of

  this. You'll hear from me!" he screamed.

  "Sue me!" Cary retorted, his hands on his hips. Adam started his engine and turned the boat

  away. A moment later he was bouncing over the

  water, fleeing.

  I turned over on my left side and buried my

  face in the blanket. I felt Cary kneel down and touch

  my shoulder.

  "You all right, Melody?" he asked softly. "No," I said. I felt sick and embarrassed and

  suddenly very, very tired.

  "Come on. I'll help you home," he said. "I don't want to go home. That's not my home!"

  I cried. "I don't have a home!"

  "Sure you do. You're with us until your mother

  comes back."

  "I don't care if she ever comes back." "Sure you do."

  "Stop saying sure I do. You don't know what I

  want. None of you know or care."

  "I care," he insisted. "Come on," he urged. He

  started to zip up the back of my dress. "You'll feel

  better after you walk a while."

  "I'll never feel better. I don't want to feel better.

  Just leave me here on the beach and let the water

  come in and pull me out to sea. I'd rather drown." He laughed. "Come on. You're just a little

  drunk."

  "I am not drunk," I said and spun around, only

  when I did, the whole world spun with me and kept

  spinning. I moaned and fell into his arms. The

  gurgling in my stomach turned into a volcano and it

  began to erupt. He held me as I heaved. All the vodka

  I had drunk on top of a relatively empty stomach

  came up like molten lava. It burned its way up my

  throat and poured out of my mouth. The pain of

  heaving doubled me over. If it had not been for Cary

  holding me, I was sure I would have fallen face

  forward into the sand.

  Finally, it stopped. I took deep breaths, gasping

  for clean air.

  "You all right now?"

  I was feeling better after getting rid of the

  vodka. I nodded and he lowered me to the blanket. "Just rest a moment," he said.

  I took shorter breaths, the heaviness in my chest