“Melanie,” he said, scratching his head. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“I just came to see what you were up to, Malcolm,” said Melanie. “That’s not a crime, is it? It’s not like I broke in or anything. I was getting ready to leave when you got back. Did I mention that I was waiting for a while? It’s kind of rude to keep a girl waiting, you know…”
“Not when they show up unannounced, it isn’t,” said Malcolm. He sniffed, smelling vodka on her breath. “Have you been drinking?”
Melanie’s cheeks flushed a little bit. Malcolm felt the beginning of a headache pressing into his temples.
“Are you going to invite me inside, Malcolm?” asked Melanie, slurring the pronunciation of his name. “Or do you want to talk in my car?”
“It’s Tapestry’s car,” said Malcolm. “And I’m honestly shocked that she let you borrow it.”
He scowled, feeling annoyed at having a drunk girl dumped in his lap when he’d been expecting Tapestry.
“Well, Malcolm?” asked Melanie. “Or, we could just talk out here, in the street…?”
She took a step closer to him. Melanie was 18, but still in high school. Malcolm wasn’t sure whether she was lacking when it came to maturity or if he’d just grown up fast, but he found Melanie’s naïve enthusiasm more than a little off putting.
“Whatever,” said Malcolm. “You can come inside, Melanie. But I’m calling Tapestry to let her know that you’re here. For your sake and mine, please don’t try anything.”
“I hear you.” Melanie winked at him. “We won’t do anything at all.”
“I know you’re probably too drunk to tell, but I’m being serious.”
Malcolm walked up the steps and down the hallway, not bothering to wait for her to follow. He unlocked the door to his apartment and went inside, leaving the door open for Melanie.
He had his phone out to call Tapestry before he’d even taken his shoes off. Part of him wondered what would happen if he couldn’t get in touch with her, and Melanie had to stay the night.
Just thinking about it makes me feel like a creep. A drunk high school girl… That’s the stuff bad ideas are made of.
“Maaaalcooollllm,” called Melanie. She came up behind him and forcefully pulled him down onto the couch. Malcolm scowled, but heard Tapestry pick up on the other side of the line.
“Hello?”
“Tapestry, hey,” he said. “I have your great granddaughter here, in case you were wondering.”
It was hard for Malcolm to both talk on the phone and simultaneously fend off Melanie’s advances. She was kissing his free hand and trying to pull him closer to her. Malcolm wasn’t sure what he’d done originally to enamor her to him, but he suddenly almost wished he could take it back.
Wait… I saved her from a school shooter, didn’t I? That might explain some of this.
“Melanie is at your apartment?” asked Tapestry, in a very annoyed voice. “Malcolm…”
“I wouldn’t have called you if I was the one who invited her over,” said Malcolm. “That would be stupid. I would be doing other things.”
“You’d be doing other things, huh?” said Melanie. She grinned, and then playfully tackled Malcolm, straddling him as she pushed him down on the couch.
“Can you tell her to come home?” asked Tapestry.
“She’s drunk,” said Malcolm. Melanie started kissing his neck, as though to prove his point. He felt an odd mixture of emotions at the sensation. “And she took your car. It’s parked outside, safe and sound.”
Tapestry made a frustrated noise on the other end of the line. Melanie was doing her best to physically seduce Malcolm, grinding herself against and pushing her breasts into his face. In his opinion, she wasn’t doing a half bad job at it.
“Well then, can you drive her home?” asked Tapestry. “I’ll make you a batch of cookies as a reward.”
“That sounds tempting,” said Malcolm, as Melanie slowly started pulling her shirt up and over her head. Despite himself, he was getting drawn in.
“Malcolm?” asked Tapestry. “Are you still there?”
“Right!” Malcolm reached up and gently lifted Melanie off him. “We’re leaving now.”
He said goodbye to Tapestry, and then took a couple of seconds to think safe thoughts before standing up and turning to face Melanie.
“Melanie,” he said, in his best adult voice. “This isn’t going to happen. I need the keys to your grandmother’s car.”
“Great grandmother’s,” corrected Melanie. “And I’m not giving them to you.”
Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep his frustration in check.
“What are you, five?” he asked. “Come on, hand them over.”
Melanie smiled at him. She turned toward the couch and set her hands on it, bending over slightly and pushing out her butt.
“You can always pat me down for them,” she said. “I’m a creative girl, though. They could be hidden almost anywhere, Malcolm. You should be very thorough and check everywhere. Who knows… it could be fun.”
“Melanie, what the hell has gotten into you?” Malcolm frowned at her, honestly wondering if she’d taken something along with the alcohol. “This is just getting weird.”
At the sound of the last word, Melanie stiffened. Her head sagged slightly, and Malcolm could see her emotions shift, just from her body language.
“Weird…” she repeated. “I’ve heard that one before. That girl’s weird… Or… she just goes on and on about everything. Like somehow the fact I have a lot to say means that nobody should ever take the chance to listen.”
“Hey, hold on,” said Malcolm. “Easy there, slugger. That’s not what I meant. I think you’re getting a case of the vodka blues.”
Melanie blinked open her eyes at him, and sure enough, he saw the beginnings of a few salty drops. He walked over and set a hand on her shoulder.
“Do you know why I talk so much, Malcolm?” she asked.
“I always figured that you were secretly one of the gifted, and that was your power.”
Melanie chuckled, but then grew serious and sad again.
“I had a brother before any of this started happening,” she said, quietly. “He… died. Along with my parents. I used to be really quiet, you know? I could just listen whenever I was home, and they’d make me smile and laugh and share so much. And then… afterward… it was just so quiet all the time. I couldn’t let myself be the quiet one, not anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Malcolm. “I know… how it is. To lose people you care about.”
He put an arm around her. Melanie immediately started trying to lean in for another kiss. Malcolm was so impressed by her tenacity that he almost let her have it.
“I know you’ve lost people, too,” she whispered. “Tapestry told me all about it. You’re like me, Malcolm. We could…”
“Be friends,” finished Malcolm. “We could be good friends. And talk about how much we miss the people we’ve lost.”
He squeezed her hand and tried not to feel too responsible for the crushed look he saw in her eyes. Melanie nodded slowly.
“Right…” she said. “That’s… actually why I came over here. I was just testing you, you know. Just wanted to see if you’d take advantage of a poor, teenage drunk girl. You passed… but only just barely.”
“Of course,” said Malcolm. “That makes perfect sense without being the slightest bit convoluted. Come on, slugger, let’s get you home.”
CHAPTER 9
The ride back to Tapestry’s house was mercifully uneventful. Malcolm enjoyed driving Tapestry’s car, and managed to find a radio station that played 90s alt rock.
“Tapestry said that this type of music is your focus power?” asked Melanie.
“Yup,” said Malcolm.
“This is like… dad rock.”
Malcolm scoffed.
“This is Nirvana!” he said. “In what world do you live in where Nirvana is considered dad rock?”
“The real world,” said Melanie. “But it’s fine. You don’t have to change it.”
Malcolm smiled at her. She’d opened up to him more that night than she had in all the rest of the short time he’d known her. He’d been serious about what he’d said, and could see himself becoming fast friends with Melanie, over time.
He’d half expected Tapestry to be waiting outside the door, but she wasn’t. Malcolm parked in the driveway and followed Melanie inside. Her expression shifted into something slightly guilty as soon as they were in Tapestry’s living room.
“Hello?” called Malcolm. “Tapestry? I brought home the troublemaker.”
He could smell cookies already baking in the kitchen, but Tapestry was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s probably in the basement,” said Melanie. “It’s her idea of an exciting Friday night.”
Malcolm furrowed his brow, but followed Melanie through a door and down some stairs. The basement of the house was rough cement, outside of a section in one corner where several gym mats had been set up.
Tapestry was wailing on a heavy bag hanging from one of the rafters. She wore a pair of boy shorts and a sports bra, and both of her fists were wrapped with boxing tape. She was throwing combinations of punches and kicks, wailing away at the bag like it was the thing responsible for killing her family.
“Hey Aubrey,” said Melanie. “I’m home…”
It was only then that Tapestry seemed to notice them. She smiled at Malcolm, frowned at Melanie, and wiped sweat off her forehead. Her blonde hair was back in the usual pony tail, and combined with the tight training clothes, it gave her body a very streamlined look.
“Melanie,” said Tapestry. “Don’t you ever, for a second, think that you can borrow my car if you’re going to be drinking.”
“Sorry, Aubrey,” said Melanie. “I was in a weird mood.”
Tapestry turned her gaze onto Malcolm, her expression one of consideration. He turned his hands palm up, unsure of whether he deserved her scrutiny.
Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong, here.
“Thanks for bringing her home, Malcolm,” said Tapestry.
“Yeah, no prob,” he said. “I felt like an honest to god Uber driver, escorting a drunk girl to where she needed to be.”
Tapestry furrowed her brow in confusion. Malcolm smiled, remembering that anything invented more recently than the mid-nineties probably still sounded like gibberish to her.
“Anyway,” said Malcolm. “I should probably grab the cookies and get going…”
“Why don’t you stay for a bit?” asked Tapestry. “I mean, you’re here anyway. It’s been a few days since we’ve had a chance to talk.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“I don’t really have anywhere else to be, at this time of night,” he said. “Sure, why not?”
Tapestry smiled and then glanced down at herself.
“Let me take a shower, first,” she said. “I’m a little sticky right now.”
Urge… to make joke… rising.
“I’m headed to bed,” Melanie said, loudly. She gave both Malcolm and Tapestry a look that seemed to say that she was now the one disapproving of hijinks, and then headed upstairs.
Tapestry took a few more experimental strikes at the punching bag, and Malcolm found himself being drawn in by the aggressiveness of her fighting style.
“Were you always a fighter?” asked Malcolm.
“Not even close,” said Tapestry. “I was a housewife.”
She twisted, slamming a kick high enough up on the punching bag to strike the equivalent of her opponent’s head.
“After I got my powers,” she continued, “it seemed like something that only made sense. I can regenerate, but that’s not much of an offensive ability. I have to be able to fight and shoot guns to round myself out if I’m going to be hunting monsters.”
She threw another punch combination, her athletic body moving with catlike grace.
“You seem like you enjoy it,” said Malcolm. “Like it’s more than something you’re just doing for work.”
Tapestry grinned. She nodded and walked over to him.
“I do,” she said. “There’s a lot that I miss about my old life, but my old limitations are something I’m glad to be free of. My husband was old fashioned, and even after he passed away, I never had the courage to do anything interesting.”
There was a mischievous gleam in her eye. Malcolm held her gaze for several seconds, aware of Tapestry’s heavy, winded breathing, and the musky scent of her sweaty body.
“I should probably take that shower,” she said. “Why don’t you wait up for me in the living room, and we’ll have some wine after?”
Malcolm nodded.
“Sounds good,” he said.
CHAPTER 10
Malcolm fidgeted as he waited for Tapestry to finish her shower. His thoughts kept going back to the encounter the two of them had had in his apartment a few days earlier, the one that neither of them had brought up since.
He also thought about Rose’s advice, and the encouragement she’d given him to involve himself with his fellow champion. Tapestry was older than he was by an amount that was beyond significant. Malcolm had no idea how her mind worked most of the time.
She wants to drink some wine with me, after taking a shower in the middle of the night. She’s not exactly being subtle here.
Tapestry came downstairs wearing a tiny red and black robe. The fabric was thin, and the bottom hem didn’t make it all the way down to her knees. She had it closed completely over her breasts, but the cloth belt around her waist had only been knotted once, meaning every movement exposed a bit more chest and cleavage.
“Hey,” she said. “I’ll get some glasses from the kitchen. The wine is downstairs, in the cellar. Do you want to grab a bottle?”
“Sure,” said Malcolm. “Any of them in particular, or…?”
“Just whatever catches your eye.”
They shared another moment of electric eye contact, and then Malcolm headed downstairs, returning a minute later with a bottle of wine. He sat on the couch next to Tapestry, pulling out the cork before passing it to her to pour them each a glass.
“I was a little surprised that you called me tonight,” said Tapestry.
“Well, I was a little surprised by the drunk girl who showed up on my doorstep,” said Malcolm.
“That’s not what I mean.” Tapestry crossed her legs, peering at Malcolm over the lip of her glass. “You called me instead of… hosting Melanie, for the night.”
“Interesting choice of euphemism, Tapestry,” said Malcolm, with a smile. “So, you’re asking why I didn’t just let her stay in my apartment, and see what happened?”
Tapestry nodded slowly.
“You’re both teenagers,” said Tapestry. “She’s attractive, and she obviously went over to your apartment for a reason, even if it was inspired by alcohol.”
“Are you asking as my friend?” asked Malcolm. “Or as Melanie’s grandmother?”
“Great grandmother,” corrected Tapestry. “And you should know by now that my relationship with Melanie is more… sisterly, than anything. I’m only mad at her because she was driving my car after drinking.”
“That’s the only reason?” Malcolm held her gaze. “You wouldn’t normally be mad at her if she was over at my apartment, in the middle of the night?”
“It’s like I said, you’re both teenagers.” Tapestry was blushing, but she gave a small shrug. “Over the last couple of years I’ve been reintroduced to just how intense teenage hormones can be.”
The room felt hot. A significant gap had opened in the chest of Tapestry’s robe. Malcolm sipped at his wine to distract himself away from ogling her cleavage.
“How old were you when you first got married?” He asked the question right as it entered his mind, surprising himself, as well as her.
“I was 19,” said Tapestry, blushing even more deeply. “Very young.”
“19,” said Mal
colm. “Wow.”
“I never realized how much I missed out on because of it, not until it was too late,” said Tapestry. “Allen, my husband, was a good man. He loved me as much as any man could, but we were both trapped in the social roles of the time. I was a housewife, Malcolm. A boring housewife.”
“Yeah, the whole baking thing kind of gave that away,” Malcolm said, grinning. Tapestry playfully slapped his leg, which sent a jolt of excitement through the rest of his body.
“Honestly though, that was my life,” said Tapestry. “Cooking, cleaning, baking… reading books. Church activities. It was all very tame.”
“And you don’t want that kind of life for Melanie?”
“I never got a chance to be like Melanie,” she said. “She’s so confident and wild. I never got a chance to, well, you know. Be like that.”
Malcolm slid a little closer to Tapestry on the couch. He could see her breasts moving up and down with each breath through the thin fabric of her robe. He leaned in even closer.
“Be like what?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
His lips reached hers, and the two of them shared an explosive kiss. Tapestry slowly opened her body up to his, leaning back on the couch and parting her thighs. Malcolm kissed her deeply and slid his hands up to her breasts, grinding himself into her. He shifted his mouth to plant a kiss on her neck, and Tapestry abruptly cleared her throat and pushed him back.
“Malcolm,” she said, stiffly. “Why was the shadow spryte in your apartment on the night we fought your brother?”
Malcolm felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight.
“What?” He frowned, shifting back slightly. “Why would you… ask me that now?”
“Because I want an answer,” said Tapestry. “Now.”
Malcolm tried to think back to what he’d told her the last time she’d asked that question. Tapestry was watching him with a neutral expression on her face, but there was something sharp and skeptical in her eyes.
“I don’t know,” said Malcolm. “I just assumed at the time that… it had seen me on the news and figured that I was a champion. It was probably there to kill me.”
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