Chapter Sixteen (Part Two)

Melody should have felt guilty for tossing Tracy's muffins in the trash compactor but she didn't. Instead, she slept the slumber of someone who knew exactly what she was doing and why she did it. On some level, she knew she was probably the last person anyone would suspect of doing something like that. After all, after being the butt of Alecia and Sarah's worst taunts, she was now dishing some out herself. If they could play dirty, Melody thought, so could she.
The next morning, just before classes, Tracy showed up in Miss Hanover's office, sure enough, reporting that the muffins she'd baked for the school fair had been thrown in the trash compactor at Mariel Simwell. "Are you sure?" Miss Hanover asked in a sweet voice. "I mean, you don't think they're elsewhere in the refrigerator?"
"Nope, I looked everywhere. I know that's where they are," Tracy replied with conviction. "I have an idea who did it, but I don't want to jump to conclusions yet."
"That's a good thing. You don't want to accuse someone who's innocent."
Tracy shook her head. "Believe me, the person who did this, is not innocent at all, although she has all of you thinking she is."
"You know who did it?"
Tracy rose up, straightening her skirt. "Like I said, I have an idea who did it." Folding her arms, Tracy declared, "I know one thing. This means war."
Tracy made sure to beat everyone into class for their biology test, even though biology was not her favorite subject. She even managed to beat Melody into class, which was no small feat, sauntering right past her to her seat in the front row. Their teachers had noticed their game of one-upmanship awhile ago but made no efforts to discourage it. In fact, Ms. Jenkins had even told Miss Hanover that she thought their competition made both of them perform better, since they were clearly the top two students in the school.
Tracy immediately opened her exam booklet and then peered behind at Melody, who was intently concentrating on the questions. Melody then looked up at Tracy's curls in front of her, bouncing freely as she wrote. However, both girls managed to close their exam booklets at the same exact moment, well before the rest of the class, and then glared angrily at each other. Their rivalry had now reached a fever pitch.

High school is a minefield of changing alliances and a social hierarchy that is not to be disturbed nor broached. The 'breakup' of Melody and Sarah had torn apart the precarious balance that existed at Hanover Academy. Unofficially, they had been the school 'couple,' somewhere between friends and sweethearts, and the dissolution of their relationship was the talk of the school -- even amongst the faculty. A year ago, when she and Melody were practically joined at the hip, Sarah could not have fathomed she'd be in her current position -- in the popular crowd, a member of the school dances committee, brimming with confidence. But here she was, surrounded by the coolest girls in school. At times she wondered if all of this were a mirage.
Alecia Charvat, never a hair out of place, breezed into the school library, clearly the "queen bee" of the Academy. "Okay, it's time to get ready for prom. What do you guys suggest our theme should be?"
"Enchantment Under the Sea," began Allyson Wade, flicking back her shiny black hair.
"What about Hollywood Glamour?" suggested Andrea Seavey. "I bet we could do a red carpet thing."
"Rock and Roll Under the Stars," was Sarah's suggestion.
Tracy Glick piped her hand up. She exuded an air of confidence and respect, and when she spoke, the other students listened. "I think we should put this to a vote of the entire student body. It's our prom, anyway."
Meanwhile, Melody ambled away from where the committee was meeting, pretending not to hear them talk and whisper about her. She grabbed a book from the shelf and began to dig in.
"Hey, Sarah, isn't that that weirdo Melody, your old girlfriend?" Alecia said snottily. The other girls burst into laughter.
"We were friends," Sarah replied, "but that's over with now."
"Good, now we can go on with the business at hand." The girls resumed their spirited discussion of potential prom themes.
Sarah and her new friends seemed to be spending their spare time coming up with new ways to torture Melody. Their latest tactic was the worst of all, however. They circulated a "We Hate Melody Tinker" petition and got the entire school to sign it. It read, in simple, straight-forward language, "We the student body of Hanover Academy... hate Melody Tinker for the following reasons... she's a lesbian... she's a bitch... she's a geek... she's a weirdo... she's a nerd..." and went on to list all of Melody's perceived infractions.
The smear campaign didn't end there. The petition was also posted on the internet and Sarah and Alecia flooded Melody's email inbox with hateful messages. Eventually, word of it got to Miss Hanover, and she called the ring leaders in to her office. "I am disappointed in the pair of you," she told them as they exchanged furtive glances at each other, "and I believe this kind of behavior shall not be tolerated at Hanover Academy."
"Well, Melody was the one who started all this," Sarah said, searching for words to justify her actions.
Miss Hanover was puzzled. "I thought the two of you were friends."
"Were friends," Sarah explained, careful to emphasize the word 'were.' "She's the one who's chosen to avoid everybody. If she hadn't all of a sudden decided to close herself off, none of this would have happened."
Miss Hanover shook her head. "There's no reason for you all to have done what you've done. Now, I want the names of everyone who signed this petition, and Sarah, since you're a dorm resident, you're grounded and stripped of phone privileges until further notice." She also forced Sarah and Alecia to spend the rest of the week in after-school detention.

The opposite of caring too much isn't caring too little, but not caring at all. Melody herself, the target of the petition and smear campaign, didn't seem to be affected by any of it. Or if it did bother her, she did a reasonable job of masking it underneath a facade of apathy. Even when her email acount began flooding with the hateful messages, Melody continued to behave the way she always had.
Melody began to question in her mind why she was even at Hanover in the first place. At least, at Sim City Junior High and her first year at Sim City High, she was being teased -- but she knew where she stood in the social pecking order and was satisfied with that. Even though she preferred her own company, there were a couple of other students (both boys) who were her acquaintances, and she'd hang out with them. For reasons Melody had yet to understand, she was much more comfortable with boys than she was with other girls. So why had she chosen to go to an all-girl school? Was she a glutton for punishment, as Sarah had written in the petition? Melody came to the realization that the sooner she was away from Hanover, the better the rest of her life was going to be.
And despite the momentary rush her competition with Tracy provided, Melody did everything in her power to that end. She took advanced courses which provided college credit; she researched scholarships she could qualify for; she looked through the brochures of several nearby colleges and universities including Academie Le Tour, her dream school. Her industriousness had a purpose -- to suppress the very palpable pain caused by the dissolution of her friendship with Sarah and its stormy aftermath.

Ms. Jenkins walked into biology class and handed out their test papers. "By and large, I was disappointed in your test results. I would think at this level you would be able to label every bone in the human body. However, I was unable to use the curve because I did get a perfect score --"
Tracy sat up proudly, straightening her blazer and her skirt.
Ms. Jenkins continued. "-- from Miss Tinker."
Dejected, Tracy shook her head in disbelief. "I committed those bones to memory right before class!" she thought to herself. Meanwhile, Melody, behind her, was grinning a cheshire cat-like grin in obvious self-satisfaction.
Sarah, sitting next to Tracy, could be heard mouthing the word bitch to herself.
Ms. Jenkins began handing out the test papers. "Miss Rodiek, you're slipping. One more failing grade and you're out of advanced-placement biology."
"How did I fail?" pleaded Sarah. "I was sure I knew all of these."
"Miss Glick, A minus. Good work, but you mixed up the tarsal and metatarsal bones."
"I was sure I had that right!" protested Tracy, slamming her test booklet on her desk and folding her arms.
"Miss Tinker, A plus. Great job, you nailed every single one of the bones."
Closing the test booklet, Melody smiled secretly to herself as she looked around the room, watching Ms. Jenkins hand the other students their test booklets.

The Hanover Academy fall festival took place right before Halloween, on a crisp, perfect fall afternoon. Green-gold tinted leaves cascaded gently off the trees as the campus grounds were littered with carnival rides, arts and crafts tables, pumpkins, a cornucopia of food, and even live bands playing.

Just then Miss Hanover approached. "Melody, I need you," she said, and after some protesting Melody followed her to a table where Tracy was sitting. "I want the two of you to man the raffle table." Even though she looked at Miss Hanover with disdain, she tramped over to the table and took her seat next to Tracy.
Meanwhile, Sarah and Alecia and some of the other girls had opened up a face-painting booth, where they painted the faces of some of the neighborhood children. Tessa Ramirez, the eight-year-old daughter of furniture-store owners Checo and Lisa Ramirez, was first, and she'd made sure of it by cutting the line. Sarah shook her head as she applied glittery face paint beneath Tessa's eyes.
Miss Hanover herself went to judge the Largest Pumpkin and Pumpkin Carving contests, where aspiring pumpkin farmers from all over showed off their plump new fruit. John Burb, Jethro and his son Hank Biggs, Leod McGreggor, who came all the way from Riverblossom Hills, and several others all competed with their fruit.
Melody sat, her arms folded and with a sour expression on her face, at the raffle table. "What is it we're giving away again?"
"A 27-inch television set," Tracy corrected her, glaring back at her with the same intensity.
Melody rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she mumbled, turning her head away from Tracy.
Shaking her head, Tracy asked, "What is it with you, Melody?"
Pretending she didn't hear her, Melody looked around the grounds, everywhere but directly at Tracy.
"I don't know what's going on, but it's like you hate everyone and everything."
Still not looking at Tracy, Melody droned, "No, I don't hate everyone -- and I don't hate everything."
Later on, Melody had the other girls enraptured as she told them the scariest ghost stories she could think of, even reciting the mother of all stories -- the tale of the conception of the original Frankenstein novel. "So, Mary Wollstonecraft and her boyfriend, Percy Shelley, were on a romantic holiday at the residence of Lord Byron, and it was so cold there that they couldn't do anything they planned to do. So, after they read this collection of ghost stories, he challenged them to come up with the scariest story..."
"And then what happened?" asked Shannon, leaning forward with decided interest. Tracy, walking past, couldn't believe this was the same Melody who had given her -- and everyone else -- the cold shoulder. So she stopped and gave a listen, too.
"Mary woke up in the middle of the night and saw a vision. In her dream there was a young student kneeling beside the creature he had put together, concocted from various parts of dead people. Then the creature reached out its arms to the student, its creator..."
Suddenly Melody was interrupted by the shouts of Alecia, Sarah, and Allyson, who were standing off to the side. "Drop dead lesbo!" shouted Alecia, with Sarah and Allyson looking on and cheering.
The other girls turned around, but Melody, embarrassed, covered her head and ran away from the scene.
"What did she do that for?" Shannon wondered, turning towards Mallory. "Mel's story was just getting good."

Miss Hanover called Tracy and Melody into her office the Monday after the festival. Her two top students assembled in the headmistress' office in the back of the school on the first floor. When they showed up, one could cut the atmosphere with a knife, it was so thick. "I'd like the two of you to organize the annual Thanksgiving dinner," Miss Hanover announced, looking into both of their eyes.
Tracy flashed a saccharine grin, showing off all her pearly whites. She had all the preternatural savvy of a budding politician. Looking right at Melody, she replied, "Sure, Miss Hanover, no sweat."
But Melody cringed. "Me?" she asked, pointing at herself.
Miss Hanover released a gentle smile. "Yes, Melody," she said sweetly. "I know you're smart. And I'm sure you have some ideas that you haven't been able to communicate. That painting that won the district art contest proved it. You've got so much untapped potential."
Melody alternated dismissive glares between Miss Hanover and Tracy. One got the sense that she was relishing the role she'd taken on, of the impenetrable ice princess. But, in her stubborn defiance she realized that working with Tracy could be a good thing. For one thing, it would help her take her mind off what Sarah and Alecia and the popular girls were doing. How long, though, would their uneasy truce last?
Melody was in her bedroom working with her robot crafting machine when she heard a knock on her door. "Come in," she shouted, "it's open."
The doorknob turned, and so did Melody, only to see Tracy standing before her. "What do you want?" she asked tersely.
Tracy stood for a few minutes, looking around Melody's bedroom. She examined the alien posters and the paintings of the solar system that hung on her wall. "Did you paint these?" she asked.
Melody shrugged. "Yeah -- why?"
Even though Tracy didn't have the least bit of interest in the subject matter, she had to admit she was impressed. Then her eyes fell to the toy robot Melody was making on the robot crafter. "What's this? What are you doing?"
"You've never seen a girl make robots before?" asked Melody, glaring at her.
"Actually, no," replied Tracy matter-of-factly as she examined Melody's diagrams. "It looks -- interesting."
Melody's eyes began to light up. "I picked it up over the summer. It was just a matter of learning just how the wires connect to the reactors which power them, then encasing them in just the right metal alloy."
Tracy nodded, letting out a sheepish chuckle. "Well, I'll leave you to it, I guess. But I was going to ask about the Thanksgiving dinner and the food drive for the needy."
Melody turned around again. "Food drive?"
"Yeah, I'm organizing a food drive to go along with the Thanksgiving dinner. The student council is going to prepare individual meals and go door-to-door delivering them."
Melody cringed at the idea of knocking on strangers' doors with plates of food. "Um, do you have a menu planned?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, the usual -- turkey with dressing, peas, candied yams, and a dessert --" Tracy's voice trailed off. "Which reminds me, I know you threw away my first batch of muffins that I baked for the fair."
Melody shook her head. "How can you figure it was me?"
Tracy tossed her blond curls with disdain. "Oh, come on, Melody. Don't give me that innocent look. You have had it in for me since the moment we met."
"Why on earth would I have anything in for you?"
"Like it isn't obvious, Melody Tinker?" Tracy asked, twirling around. "Let's face it. I've got everything you want."
Melody glared at her. "You've got nothing I want, Tracy."
"Oh really? Is that why you turned in that extra credit report for advanced-placement history, on the exact same topic that I did?"
"The one on the Bolshevik revolution?"
Tracy shook her head and couldn't help but laugh. "Melody, Melody, Melody. You are so transparent."
"If anyone's transparent, Tracy, it's you." Melody walked away. "You've got everybody wrapped around your little finger, don't you, Tracy?"
"Not everybody." Tracy gave Melody a sly wink. "The one person I want to pay attention to me doesn't even care that I exist. She doesn't care that anyone exists."
Melody, oblivious to anything Tracy said, continued her angry rant. "Even Miss Hanover raves about how perfect you are. I see right through you, Tracy."
"And I through you, Melody. Let's face it, you and I are just alike."
Melody couldn't see how she had any resemblance to Tracy, someone she perceived as annoying and snotty.
But Tracy continued with her disturbingly perky tone. "We both want to succeed. We'd make a great team, and you know it."
Melody shook her head. "A team? Us?"
Tracy put her arm around Melody's shoulder. "And Miss Hanover knows it, too, that's why she put us together to organize the Thanksgiving dinner." Tracy turned around to walk away, leaving Melody with lots of things to ponder as she continued making her robots. Could it be, that if she couldn't beat Tracy, she'd have to join her?

Melody hated her situation, but she was stuck. She really didn't have any other choice. She knew in her mind that having a friend for the sake of having a friend was the wrong approach to friendship. She realized that sooner or later she was going to have to apologize for the muffin incident, even though it killed her and was just as good as admitting guilt. She and Tracy were eating lunch together nearly every day now, and Tracy was making it a point to sit at the same table as Melody, even when Melody tried to avoid her. "Why do you do this?" snapped Melody.
"Simple. We're supposed to be working together."
"Exactly my point," Melody said. "Our relationship is supposed to be professional only."
"Who says we can't be friends too?" Tracy peered straight through Melody's glasses right through to her brown eyes. "What is with you, Melody? You act like you don't want to be around people."
Just then Sarah, Alecia, Allyson, Jill, and Andrea breezed past, their faces made up to the nines and their skirts hiked up as far as the school dress code would allow. "Oooh, lesbo alert," Alecia whispered to Sarah.
"And who's she with? Of course, Little Miss Perfect," replied Sarah snottily.
Melody pretended she didn't hear Sarah, instead engrossing herself in a political conversation with Tracy. "So, did you catch the Mayor's speech on Sim News Network last night?" Tracy asked.
This question forced a smile out of Melody. "So I'm not the only one who keeps her television tuned to SNN."
Tracy giggled. "Nope. He made some interesting points about the new Congress's makeup, but what everybody's talking about is his admission of an affair with some actress."
As Melody shook her head, Sarah and Alecia came over. "If it isn't the brainiac table," teased Alecia.
"Shut up, Alecia," Tracy shouted, flicking her blond curls.
"If you don't stop playing with me," Alecia threatened, "then I'll make you do my homework."
Tracy had an interesting reaction. She smiled. "Good. I like doing homework -- my own."
"And why are you here with the dyke anyway?" asked Sarah.
Melody's blood began to rise, but she somehow kept it in, remaining calm. But Tracy was incensed. "You're calling someone a dyke?" Tracy asked, directing her words at Sarah.
"Yeah, you're sitting with one."
Alecia added, "careful or she'll make you her next one."
"Her next what?" snapped Tracy.
"Her next girlfriend."
Tracy shook her head. "I only see one dyke here, and it's not Melody."
"Oooh, touchy!" shouted Alecia.
"You," declared Sarah, "you're calling me a dyke, Tracy? If you weren't such a goody-goody I'd --"
"You'd what?"
Finally Melody spoke. "How can you do this to me, Sarah?" she asked in a low, halting voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Then she looked, almost gratefully, at Tracy.
"I'm not doing anything that you didn't do first," Sarah replied.
Melody hesitated before saying exactly what she felt, which was unusual for her. "Well, I -- I didn't circulate a petition that said 'I Hate Sarah Rodiek,' now, did I?"
Then, suddenly, Melody slowly rose up from the chair and slapped Sarah in the face. "Ow!" yelped Sarah. "Your nerve!"
"The nerve of you to stand up here and say these things!" shouted Melody. "You have been a total bitch to me since last summer. Why, Sarah?"
Tracy let out a silent fist pump in approval.
"Because you're in denial, Mel. You're always in denial."
"I'm denying what, Sarah?"
"You denied that you loved me."
"And this is how you act? By becoming a Benedict Arnold?"
"Look where it's gotten me. I'm popular now."
"Is that all you wanted, Sarah? To be popular? If the price of popularity is that you forget who you are, then I never want to be popular." Melody and Tracy finished their meals and, picking up their lunch trays, walked away together.

Chapter Sixteen (Part One)

The academic side of school had always come easy for Melody. She made A's, she handed in extra credit reports, and she could often be found in the school library burying herself in books about whatever suited her fancy, sometimes being there until the janitors came in with their buffers to shine the floors. There was a running joke that she had her own key to the place. Even at a rigorous college preparatory school such as Hanover, the teachers had seldom seen a student with such an insatiable thirst for knowledge.
Melody's problems at all her schools had always been social, and at Hanover, it turned out to be much the same way. Her grade-school teacher had observed, "Melody does not work well with others. She seems to have a marked preference for solitude." Several years (and schools) later, nothing had changed.
This fall semester, Melody had finally gotten her own private suite (all the girls did now that the extensions in Mariel Simwell residential hall were complete), and so she could put her personal stamp on it. Instead of the posters of musicians and movie stars that adorned the bedrooms of most teenage girls, on her wall were photographs of paranormal creatures and diagrams of the solar system. She reassembled her robot crafting machine in her bedroom at school and returned to work on the intelligent hunks of metal.
Clearly Sarah's words stung, and they weighed heavily on her mind as she worked. True, she preferred to keep her own company, but Sarah's companionship had provided something in her life that had heretofore been missing. And she realized that she missed having it. Was it true that she actually did love Sarah, as Sarah had loved her? Was it true that she was in fact attracted to girls instead of boys? Or was it that she was just attracted to Sarah, regardless of her gender? Either way, she tried to put these thoughts out of her mind as she returned to her bots.

Melody spent the next few days in a walking daze. She thought a lot about what had happened between herself and Sarah -- how they parted ways and why they parted ways. But every time she saw Sarah giggling with her new friends, a sharp pang crept in her stomach and meandered its way to her heart. She did a reasonable job of pretending it didn't bother her -- she'd listen to tunes on her MP3 player or pretend to study or read whenever Sarah and her pals were around -- but there was no question that Sarah's betrayal hurt, deeply.
Making matters worse was the fact that Sarah and her new friends had launched a campaign to make Melody's life miserable. They had, in effect, tabbed her as a lesbian loner. And being considered a lesbian is practically an invitation to ostracism, especially in an environment such as this. Every time she passed by, Alecia Charvat or one of the other girls would mouth the word 'lesbo alert.' Melody would often tell herself, she is not a lesbian, she is not a lesbian, but she wasn't sure if she herself believed it or not.
Pushing these thoughts out of her mind, Melody had no time to feel sorry for herself. It wasn't in her nature. And she had too much pride. She buried herself even deeper in her studies, cloistering herself in laboratories, classrooms, and libraries. She became even more determined to achieve loftier and loftier academic goals. She trusted no one, and no one could get close to her. She had decided that she would never trust anyone the way she trusted Sarah ever again. She had successfully enclosed herself in a shell that couldn't be penetrated. The only consistent social contact she allowed herself was chatting online to people she'd never met in the dorm's computer lab.
There was something about chatting to strangers that was liberating for Melody. Because she didn't know these sims and had never met them face to face, she felt somewhat comfortable releasing her secrets. But of all the people she chatted with, her very favorite was Ubergieke. Many times during their chats he'd expressed the desire to meet her in person, but she would cleverly hold him off, merely saving herself for another place and another time.

Melody made sure to be the first person in her biology lab the next morning, beating everyone else to class. Unfortunately for her, Sarah was still her biology partner. And for an hour every Tuesday morning, she had to look into the eyes of the person who'd broken her heart.
Dusting off her uniform blazer, which had already been pressed and starched to the nines, Melody, arriving at the dissection apparatus, turned to look at Sarah. She didn't even look like the person she'd known and fallen for. Instead of her cornflower-colored hair being straight and short, she'd gotten a wild curly perm. And she'd masked her large dark-blue eyes with tons of heavy eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara. "Hi Sarah," Melody stammered, turning her attention to the dummy in front of her.
Sarah haughtily shook her head. "Mel," she said, with a discernible chill in her voice. "Let's just get to work."
For the next twenty minutes Melody poked and prodded with the mechanical dummy while Sarah watched with disdain. They didn't say a word to each other, and even worse, Melody barely even looked at Sarah. How could she? And she had to put up with this for the rest of the school year? How was she going to do it?
At lunchtime Melody found herself navigating the spider's web known as the Hanover cafeteria. She saw Sarah again, laughing it up with her new friends and even the biology teacher, Ms. Jenkins, a chill went up her spine. Finally, however, she spotted an empty seat away from their table and sat there.
But her table wasn't empty for long. A new girl, a cute freshman with dark blond hair, asked politely, "Can I join you?"
Melody shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
The girl smiled. "Shannon Kilbourne. I just moved to Bluewater with my dad. What's your name?"
Looking around the cafeteria, Melody reluctantly answered, "Melody Tinker."
"That last name sounds familiar," Shannon said.
Melody was puzzled. "Really?" she wondered. "I don't know anybody else with my last name, except my parents."
Shannon then told Melody about her family -- she had two younger sisters who were, in her words, 'pains in the rear,' and her parents. Melody, half-listening to Shannon, was so determined not to allow Sarah to see her squirm that she pretended to be interested in what Shannon had to say.
"I'm moving into Mariel Simwell tonight," Shannon added.
Melody perked up. "Really?"

When Melody walked in the school library for study hall, she was somewhat surprised to see Tracy Glick there. The library was 'her' turf, so to speak -- and Tracy was in the way.
Tracy was an overachiever in every sense of the word. A reasonably attractive girl of average height and physique, she had bouncy, shiny blond sausage curls that could have featured in a shampoo commercial. In addition to being student body president, she edited the yearbook, led every committee, and seemed to be a member of every club no matter how obscure. She had her hand up in class everytime, and teachers would often overlook her just to involve others. Every school has at least one of these students. At Hanover, that student was Tracy Glick.
Tracy gave off the impression that she came from a privileged background like many of the other girls, but that wasn't the case. In a sense, this made her achievements all the more remarkable. She was the only daughter of Edna Glick, a divorced mom who worked three jobs -- as a cocktail waitress, a dry cleaner, and a legal assistant. She'd emptied her savings just so Tracy could succeed. Edna had dismissively referred to Tracy's father as a 'deadbeat' and a 'sperm donor.'
Tracy and Melody had an interesting relationship. Sure, they were cordial to each other and could even be considered friends. But, to teenagers, friendship has many layers and definitions, and in this case, oftentimes their competitive scholastic rivalry took precedence. They took many of the same classes and were one and two (in no particular order) in their grade averages in many different subjects. For example, if Tracy was first in history, then Melody was second, and if Melody was first in biology, then Tracy was second. It would appear as though one of them would end up being valedictorian.
They had more in common than met the eye. Sure Tracy was blond and preppy with not a hair out of place and makeup that looked like it belonged on a celebrity, and Melody was, in her terms, a geek. And Tracy was outgoing and perky while Melody was quiet and reserved. But they were both desperately ambitious and seemed to feed off of each other.
Melody leaned over at Tracy and saw that she was intently concentrating on whatever it was she was researching. She sat next to her, doing her own studying, and didn't say another syllable until she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Tracy getting up from her seat an hour later.
Melody's newfound rivalry with Tracy stirred her up and unleashed a latent competitive streak in her. It would go a long way towards healing her broken heart.

Autumn in Bluewater was marked by the change in the colors of the trees that lined the shoreline and change in the direction of the breezes. Instead of the warm trade winds blowing in off the neighboring ocean, they came from the north and were much cooler. Instead of a verdant green, the trees came alive in vibrant oranges and reds, reflecting the diffuse sunlight off their leaves.
Autumn was Melody's favorite season for a variety of reasons. For one, it was the season during which she celebrated her birthday. For another, it was her namesake. And for still another, it provided boosts in skill building, something a sim as knowledge-inclined as Melody loved. It was amidst this setting that preparations began in earnest for the Hanover Academy fall festival.
The Hanover fall festival was held every year and had become a major event in Bluewater Village. It also became an opportunity for the school to 'advertise' itself to prospective parents and students. The school's faculty and staff had asked every student to provide something for the festival. It was talked about in classes, in the cafeteria, during recess and music class, and in the dormitory after school.
Melody had been asked to bake a cake. She'd never even sniffed the oven back at home, leaving the domestic duties to her mother Wanda, so what was she to do now that she'd been told to bake something?
Unfortunately for Melody, Tracy was also using the oven in the dormitory, but to bake frosted muffins. When Melody smelled Tracy's muffins, she decided she was going to try her hand at baking, too. Even though she was more interested in paintbrushes and screwdrivers than spatulas, she was not going to back down.
Melody scratched her head, confused over the recipe she'd carefully scoured from hours of research. "Four cups of flour," she read aloud to herself. What size cups? Surely not the ones the size of buckets back home.
Raiding the cupboards, she placed all the ingredients neatly in a row, checking off everything carefully, just to make sure she had the right ones. The oven didn't seem hot enough, so she adjusted the thermostat slightly. Half an hour later, with gobs of lumpy cake mix stuck to her hair and practically everything else around her, Melody finally popped the cake tin in the oven.
Concentrating so much on what she'd been doing, she gasped at the sticky mess around her. With scouring pad in hand, and a sink full of hot soapy water, she proceeded to meticulously scrub every surface. She forgot one vital thing, however -- her cake in the oven.
Smoke began billowing out, and to Melody's dismay, her creation -- her first ever cake -- was ruined. It had fallen flat and was burned to a crisp. Rather than admit defeat, however, Melody pressed onward. Going back to the dormitory library, she pored over cookbooks to find something to prepare for the festival.
Meanwhile, Tracy sauntered up to the counter and put her picture-perfect muffins away in the refrigerator.
Just then Shannon Kilbourne arrived at Mariel Simwell with her luggage. Melody and Tracy hadn't even seen her, but Mallory Tessacka did, and rushed to help her put up her things. "The bedrooms are on the second floor," Mallory said, carrying a suitcase in her hand.
Melody finally looked up from her books while Mallory and Shannon walked up the staircase.
Meanwhile, putting up her book, Melody sneaked to the refrigerator to look at Tracy's perfectly baked muffins, decorated with orange and black frosting. An evil thought crossed her mind. She took them out and then threw them all in the trash compactor. "Hmmph," Melody thought to herself. "She thinks she can beat me with her snobbery."
Meanwhile, a thought had occurred to Tracy to check the refrigerator. Her perfectly baked muffins were gone! Tracy stamped her feet and huffed and puffed, generally throwing a tantrum. "Has anyone seen my muffins?" she bellowed to anyone who would listen and people outside who didn't intend to listen.
Melody, quietly reading in a corner, pretended she didn't hear Tracy shout.
"Hmmph," Tracy shouted, folding her arms. "Miss Hanover shall definitely hear about this in the morning, I promise. And there shall be hell to pay."

Chapter Fifteen

Little Harmony was growing quickly. In almost no time at all she was a rambunctious toddler who bore a startling resemblance to her father. She had his shiny black hair, his chipmunk cheeks, and his pouty lips. No question about her, she was definitely a Tinker baby.
Now that Harmony was in fact a toddler, the Tinkers' thoughts turned to the ever-ubiquitous tasks of potty training and teaching her to walk and talk. Of course, with a toddler such as Harmony, whose favorite "toy" appeared to be the family toilet adjacent to the living room, doing these things was akin to doing a root canal.
As for Melody, her sullen, withdrawn behavior had continued throughout that summer. The only time the Tinkers saw her was when she was coming in and out from her job and when she occasionally came downstairs to eat. The rest of the time she spent holed up in her room with her myriad pursuits. It had gotten to the point where they couldn't wait for September to roll around again so she could return to the Academy.
Wanda confronted Melody one evening in her room. Stepping over a hunk of metal, the mother sighed in disbelief. "Sweetheart, this is no kind of life for a teenage girl on summer vacation."
"Yes, it is." Melody was defiant. "It's my life, and I like it. If you haven't noticed, I like being alone. Always have, and probably always will."
"Yes, dear, I know this. It's not something I like, but it's something I know, so I try to give you your space." Wanda took another deep breath, trying to hold back tears. "Melody, I've accepted the fact that you're never going to like toys, that you're never going to make toys or work in the toy shop. I can handle that. I don't like it but I can handle it. I'm even trying to wrap my finger around your strange hobbies and interests. But what I want you to help me understand is this business about this girl --"
"Mom, I knew this would come up sooner or later." Melody turned to face her mother. Looking into her eyes, she told her, "Face it, I'm never going to be your perfect little daughter, and you're just going to have to accept it."
"I can accept a lot of things, Melody. But you being a lesbian is not one of them."
"When did I ever say I was a lesbian? I told you I kissed a girl. That does not mean I'm a lesbian."
"Actually, Melody, that's exactly what it means. I've never kissed another female. I've never even had the desire to kiss another female."
"You think I did?" Melody was adamant. "It just -- happened. If I could take it back I would."
"Frankly, Melody, I'm not sure what your desires are. I'm not you." Wanda started to walk away, but then turned around. "Tell me the truth, Melody. Are you attracted to girls?"
Before Melody could answer the question, Wanda heard Harmony crying across the hall. "Got to go see about the baby. We'll continue this conversation later."
Wanda's question was certainly salient, and it was one Melody didn't really have an answer to. She never really thought about what happened the night she and Sarah first kissed. Maybe it had happened because she wasn't thinking.

Melody took her telescope outside that starry summer evening. She'd read in the newspaper that there was going to be a full moon too, increasing the chances that she'd come into contact with a wolf. However, she was interested in a specific type of wolf, a lycus dominus, "master wolf" or "leader of the pack." She had read that the lycus domini had the power to turn sims into werewolves and could give a sim the ability to communicate with them. She could recognize one of the domini by their piercing, glowing golden eyes. But she didn't want to become a werewolf -- yet -- she just wanted to lay eyes on the elusive creature, whose habitat was noted to be wooded areas.
Until the wolves came out, she aimed her telescope at a specific spot in the night sky. "Wow, Orion is especially vivid tonight!" she exclaimed, focusing her lens to get a closer look.
"Melody?" her mother called, looking in her bedroom for her. "Melody? Where are you, dear?"
"She's probably out stargazing, Wanda," Stephen said. "You know this is her time of night to do that. You know she likes to go out when it's really dark to see the stars. When was the last time we did that?"
Stephen's comment forced a girlish giggle out of Wanda. "Oooh, Steve, you naughty boy!" Stephen tickled her, and the two of them ran upstairs to their bedroom, where they disappeared underneath the sheets.

When the girls did return to Hanover Academy that September, it was as if they were complete strangers. Sarah had become quite popular and always had a table full at lunchtime. Melody herself, who had soaked in a summer of art lessons (and lessons in other things as well), was back to eating her meals alone, and strangely, she liked it that way.
These days, though, she had only one thing on her mind -- college. Specifically, Academie Le Tour. Ever since her conversation with Darren, she'd decided that her number-one goal was to gain admission into the most prestigious university in Simland, so nearly everything she did from that point on was geared toward getting into that school. She threw herself into her studies so completely that she guaranteed she'd keep herself busy. "Your single-mindedness is admirable, Melody," Miss Hanover warned, "but you have to have some fun too."
Melody wandered into the common room of the dormitory and sat at the piano. She played occasionally back when she was at home, and wasn't entirely sure why she got the urge to play now. Pressing her fingers on the ivory keys, she began to play a slow, mournful tune. Closing her eyes, she allowed the cadence of the music to take her.
"Wow, a pianist too?" a girl's snotty voice rang out loud and clear from across the room.
Suddenly the music stopped. Melody abruptly turned around to see Sarah standing there. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to hear you play Beethoven without sheet music."
Melody was speechless. "I -- I don't know where that came from."
Sarah shook her head. "You amaze me sometimes, Mel. My god, is there anything creative you don't do?"
The iciness between these once very close friends had become plainly evident. "Sarah, how come I didn't see you once the entire summer?" Melody asked. "You know where I live. You could have caught a cab and come to see me."
In frustration Sarah replied, "Mel, I told you this already. I've been busy. I got a job and that took up most of my time. How was your summer with Darren Dreamer?"
Melody finally managed a smile. "Great!" she exclaimed. "I learned so much from him."
After a few tense moments the girls stared at each other. "I see the longing in your eyes, Melody Tinker. You have feelings for me."
"I have feelings about you, Sarah, not for you, there's a very big difference."
"No, Mel, you're ashamed of them. You're ashamed of the feelings you have for me. You realize what a big mistake it's been for you to deny them. You want to be with me but you can't because you're afraid of what your parents are going to think. If that's the problem well you need to just stop. The truth is right in front of your face."
Once again Melody couldn't refute anything Sarah said. "I miss you, Sarah," Melody began, trying in vain to contain the tears that welled behind her eyelids. "I miss having you around to make me laugh and make me smile. I miss having you make me forget myself."
Stunned by this admission, Sarah turned around, realizing that for Melody to make it was peeling off one of the layers of her soul. She gave her a gentle, swift peck on the cheek and walked away. "I still love you, Mel. And I know you realize now that you love me. I just wish it was possible for us to be together."
Melody sat again at the piano, continuing where she left off, almost as if the conversation never took place.

Chapter Fourteen

Melody's time spent absorbing lessons in art and life from the master artist Darren Dreamer was already beginning to pay off. Darren truly believed in her potential, and she came to regard him as a mentor. She looked forward to her daily sessions with Darren, even more than she ever thought she would. He was her guru in the abyss -- she felt like she could tell him anything at any time.

Darren, too, eagerly anticipated his summer mornings with her. There was something about this singular girl that appealed to him -- although he didn't quite know what it was. She was like no other teenager he'd ever come into contact with, and yet, she seemed strangely familiar. Darren had dealt with his own pain, the loss of his beloved wife Darleen in a tragic kitchen fire, and as a single father he was forced to put aside the pain for the sake of his young son, Dirk. Dirk, for his part, had handled the situation well, with a maturity far beyond his years. All this changed when he met, befriended, and married Cassandra Goth, the mysterious daughter of the richest man in town. Over the course of that summer he had developed such a relationship with Melody that at times he had to remember she was someone else's daughter. "Melody, why do you like to paint?"

She was surprised by the directness of the question, and had to quickly think of a response. "It's the only means of self-expression I've ever felt comfortable with, and when I paint, I lose myself on the canvas. I've liked to do it ever since I could remember. It gives me joy."

Darren surprised Melody when he mused, "I bet your parents think the same thing about their toys."

Melody admitted she never thought about it that way. "You ever thought about asking your parents why they make toys?"

Melody shook her head. "No, not really."

"Ask them sometime. I bet they come up with some of the same answers you gave me. You see, Melody, you're a lot more like your parents than you realize. It's just that you've chosen a different path to essentially the same end."

"Mr. Dreamer --"

"Please, child. You could call me Darren."

Melody picked a random book from Darren's bookshelf and began thumbing through it. "You read a lot, don't you?"

Melody nodded her head yes. "I'm always researching stuff, doesn't matter if it's important or not." Then she asked if she could take the volume home, and Darren said yes.

"What's your first memory?" asked Darren out of the blue.

Melody took awhile to respond. "There was this black and red jack-in-the-box that I took off my parents' shelf. The jack leapt out of the box and I was afraid. My parents came near me -- I could still hear my mom's voice saying, it'll be okay, it'll be okay. But it still wasn't okay, because I still had that jack-in-the-box in the back of my mind."

"Have you told your parents any of this?"

Melody shook her head again. "No," she mouthed in a low whisper.

"I think you should tell them why you don't want to work in the toy shop. Maybe this way they'll get to understand you better."

"My parents will never understand me," Melody replied. "I'm too different from them."

"You're eccentric," he told her. "Don't take it as an insult. It's a compliment. All artists are. It's almost a prerequisite for wanting to become one. And you, my dear... you are definitely an artist. Even your name is artistic."

"If anything, given my name I should be a musician." Melody managed a chuckle. "I do dabble in the piano, I prefer painting though."

"I can tell."

After a brief pause, Melody said, "I finally told my mom that I'd kissed a girl. She practically blew her top."

Darren came to the realization that this was probably the reason Melody ran away. Touching her on the shoulder, his warm, soothing baritone calmed her down. "You have to understand that this is probably a shock to her system. Give her some time to digest it, and she'll come around."

Melody marveled that Darren always seemed to know the right thing to say. "I have yet to tell her about my abduction, though. She already thinks I'm a freak. That'll really set her off, for sure. She'll probably call the asylum and have me committed on the spot."

As the summer wore on, though, she realized that she hadn't seen Sarah since school let out. After work, Melody decided to call her. "What's going on?" she asked. "You don't return my calls."

"I've been kind of busy." Sarah explained that she'd been working odd hours at this greasy convenience store downtown. "It's been wild."

Melody tried to hide her disappointment. "Oh. I see. Think it's possible I could come downtown to see you?"

Sarah let out a hearty laugh. "You -- come downtown? Please!"

"Why not?"

"I'm sure your parents wouldn't let you out of their sight, won't let you leave the bougie suburb. Especially not to come here."

Melody was incensed. "That was harsh, Sarah! And why are you sounding so different all of a sudden?" In the background she could hear a gruff-sounding man call Sarah's name.

"Look, I've got to go. I'll call you later, if I'm not too busy."

As Melody hung up the phone, she was perplexed by Sarah's attitude. Why was she avoiding her? Why was she acting so strange? And, more confusingly, why did she even care?

Just then, Stephen knocked on her bedroom door. "Come in, it's open."

Melody had returned to her canvas. "I'm sorry for not being there for you in the last year," Stephen began, his voice racked with guilt. "I've been told it's been a pretty rough year for you."

"You don't say." Melody refused to even look at her father.

"Melody, dear, I probably deserve everything you're saying and everything you're not saying to me."

Ignoring her father, who stood close enough to her to touch her at arm's length, Melody continued to dab her canvas.

"When I look in your deep brown eyes, sweetheart, I see pain. I know you're not happy, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do to make you happy."

Melody still didn't look at him. Instead, she concentrated on the silhouette she was working on.

"I just want my little girl back," pleaded Stephen. "Tell me I haven't lost her for good."

"You have a little girl," Melody shot back, "she's sleeping in her crib."

"No, she's not the one I'm talking about, and you know that. I'm talking about you, Melody. You're my first born, and you'll always be my first born." Stephen gave her another once-over. "I remember when you were a little girl, you used to always ask me to read to you, and I'd sit you on my lap and I'd read you the silly picture books, and then you'd crawl off my lap and ask me to reach for the grownup books."

Melody turned to face Stephen, managing a little smile at this memory.

Wistfully looking at her, Stephen continued, "You were always so smart, you had your little nose in a book every time I passed by. We couldn't keep any books out of your hands. We wanted you to play with toys and test out our toys, but you would rather read. It was either that or taking apart something. I couldn't keep a screwdriver around, they were mysteriously disappearing. I had to laugh because that's exactly how I was as a child."

"Dad --"

Stephen turned around.

"Dad, the reason I never liked toys is because I'm afraid of them."

Stephen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How could you be afraid of toys, sweetheart? They're harmless."

"Dad, you remember when I was little, there was this red and black jack-in-the-box I had taken off one of the shelves?"

Scratching his chin, Stephen thought about it. "Vaguely."

"It scared me half to death."

Stephen shook his head in disbelief. "Melody...is that why you won't set foot in the shop?"

"Do you believe me?" Melody looked plaintively at her father.

"Of course I believe you, darling. It's just that, after all this time, we never understood."

The next day, after receiving his promotion, Stephen announced he had a surprise for Melody. "I know last summer you wanted this, and I couldn't afford it, so now I can and here it is."

Melody couldn't believe it. It was her robot crafting machine! She seemed genuinely delighted by the gift. "Dad!"

"I'll be making up the last year to you for the rest of my life, probably." Stephen, however, knew better than to stick around, and he politely left Melody alone with her new toy. "She may be an odd child," he said to himself, "but she's my odd child."

Melody opened the box and seemed a little daunted by the screws and wires and metal she needed to put together the crafting station. Contenting herself with the instruction manual, she calmly attached the necessary parts to each other and began reading all about making robots. "There are bots that can cook and clean for you?" she asked herself, and with palpable delight she dug in to the simplest robots she could make, the toy robots, which, incidentally, could be sold in her parents' workshop.

Before he went to check on the baby, he peered into Melody's room and saw her, still contenting herself with her new hobby. He was satisfied now, knowing in his heart that she was satisfied -- at least for now. That's my baby, he said to himself, she may not admit it, but she is a Tinker through and through.

Melody couldn't wait to go to work, if for no other reason than to tell Darren about her new hobby. He had advised her to find something she liked to do besides painting, especially if it became her job. "Well, I like to play chess," she told him, "and I like to stargaze with my telescope. That's how I got abducted."

"So, your dad purchased a robot crafter, eh?" asked Darren, looking over Melody's shoulder.

"I was pretty shocked. I had wanted it last year but --"

"You got it now, right?"

"Yeah. I've been having a blast learning about all the intricate wiring, the nuts and bolts, stuff like that. I stayed up all night."

Darren smiled. "I figured you were the type to need challenges. Keep yourself from getting bored."

Melody smiled back. She often wished she could talk to her own father like she could talk to Darren. But she and her own father had little in common except their last name and their dark skin. "I'm a geek," Melody said in a self-deprecating manner. "Why do you want to spend your afternoons with a geek like me?"

"Simple," Darren replied. "Because I like you."

Just as Melody was leaving, Dirk reappeared. He couldn't help but steal a glance or two at her. Curious, he walked up to his father. "Who is that, Dad?"

"Her name's Melody," Darren replied. "She's my new apprentice artist."

Dirk remembered. Melody Tinker -- that girl from the art show. "She's cute," he said to his dad, but thinking all the dirty thoughts that teenage boys think. If he didn't have a girlfriend and wasn't madly, crazy about her....

"And smart," Darren added. "Smart as a whip."

"Looks like it to me too," replied Dirk. "I can introduce you two if you want."

"Nah, I think I'll run into her again sometime." Dirk flashed his father a devilish smile.

Chapter Thirteen

Melody couldn't sleep at all that night. She tossed and turned in her bed, thinking about all she'd said and her mother's reaction to what she'd said. She didn't say she was a lesbian, all she'd said was that she'd kissed a girl. That was all that happened, she told herself, nothing more and nothing less.

However, it had taken nothing less than a cataclysm for Melody to open her mouth to her parents about it in the first place. Being publicly embarrassed near the end of the school year certainly didn't help matters. And then there was Darren Dreamer's standing offer of a job in his studio. She had met him once before, when he judged the district student art show, but now she could be working very closely with him and learning some of the tricks of the trade from him as well. She decided there was only one thing to do, and there was no way she was sitting at home all summer, not with this going on.

Getting up from her bed, she walked downstairs to use the telephone. "Operator?" she asked in a low, halting voice. Unfortunately the "operator" to which she spoke was a machine. "This is the Sim City Telephone Directory. Dial 1 for Pleasantview numbers, dial 2 for Strangetown numbers, dial 3 for Veronaville numbers, dial 4 for downtown numbers, dial 5 for Bluewater Village numbers, dial 6 for Riverblossom Hills numbers..."

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Melody pressed the number 1 for Pleasantview. "He lives in Pleasantview, right?" she said to herself. "The Pleasantview operator will be with you shortly." Melody waited impatiently for the person on the other end of the line. When someone finally spoke, she said, "I'd like the listing for Darren Dreamer, please."

"Dreamer? The artist? Yes, sure. His phone number is 555-4298."

Thanking the operator, Melody immediately began dialing. Darren's recorded voice transmitted over the airwaves. "Hello, you've reached the residence of Darren Dreamer. I'm not available right now to take your call, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll be sure to get back with you as soon as I can. Bye."

"Uh, Mr. Dreamer, this is Melody Tinker, I live in Bluewater Village, you called a couple months ago about a job in your studio? I've decided that I'd like to take the job. Please call me back at 555-9830."

Throwing together an outfit on the fly, she tiptoed out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the front door into a waiting cab. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but she knew she was not going to stay at 32 Eagle Lane.
Darren Dreamer was home alone. His wife, Cassandra, the Goth heiress, had just gone to her job as a field researcher, and his son Dirk was at summer orientation at Sim State University, where he'd be starting in the fall. Taking a jaunt to get his morning paper, he saw this wide-eyed, eager beaver of a girl in front of him. "Who are you?" he wondered. "And how long have you been here?"

"My name is Melody Tinker," she said, "and I've been here all night."

"Say no more, dear," he said, ushering her in. "Would you like breakfast? Pipin' hot pancakes."

Melody declined. "No, thanks."Looking around, Melody was somewhat surprised that Darren lived in such a modest house. "Did you paint all those pictures?"

"Most of them, yes. Some I bought on consignment."

The pair of them went upstairs to Darren's famous studio, which was on the other side of his bedroom. Here, Melody believed she was in her element. "I could live in a place like this," she mused, unsure if Darren heard her.

"Are you planning on going to college?" Darren asked her, trying to make conversation. "Academie Le Tour has an excellent art program. Sim State's is pretty good too."

"It's been kind of my secret dream to get into Le Tour," Melody told him. "I hear the admission requirements are strict."

"They are. But I believe you can get in. You're smart, talented, and determined. Those are three things you have going for you already. And not to mention, you're at a great school now." Darren flashed her a knowing smile. "So, where are we going to start? How about telling me the truth about what you painted for the art contest?"

"What do you mean?"

Darren laughed. "Were you really abducted by aliens?"

"Why, do you want to know?" Melody squirmed in her seat and took a deep breath. She hesitated before finally confessing, "Yes, I was."

Awesome, Darren thought to himself.

"I can't really describe the emotional impact of the event in words."

"No, but you sure described it in your painting. That's the number one requirement, in my opinion, of a good artist. They must have the ability to picture an event in their mind's eye and be able to detail it on a medium, be that a canvas or a block of marble or whatever the medium might be. An artist must allow their emotions to flow out onto their medium, whatever they're feeling at that particular moment."

Melody hung on every syllable Darren uttered. This was precisely the type of stimulation she sought when she took the job. She could already feel herself learning much about the craft, and it was only the first day. She asked constant questions about form and technique, and Darren tried his best to answer them.

"Have you ever tried stream-of-consciousness painting?" he asked her.

"Maybe once or twice, I guess."

He told her to paint what came to her mind. "You have to be more instinctive with your painting," he said. "You can deal with the technical aspects but you can't over-concentrate on them. And you can't paint just for the sake of painting. You have to paint with a purpose."

"Could I stay here tonight?" Melody asked right after work. "I don't think I can return home."

Darren looked at her quizzically. "Why?"

Melody cast her eyes down at a spot on the floor.

"Did you run away?" Darren inquired. "I don't understand."

"Yeah, I -- I -- I kinda did."

"Sweetheart," pleaded Darren, "you've got to return home. Your parents are probably worried sick about you."

Melody reluctantly returned home that evening and managed to peer inside her baby sister's crib. So innocent and helpless, she thought to herself. Was I ever this small and delicate?

"Mom, did anyone call?" she asked.
"Nope, the phone didn't even ring." Wanda tried to make conversation. "Melody Autumn Tinker, where were you last night?" Wanda's voice turned firm.

"What do you mean?"

"You know good and well what I mean. I looked for you this morning and you were gone."

"I don't have to tell you where I go all the time."

"As long as you're still a teenager you do!" Wanda took a deep breath. "When you're eighteen, then you can do whatever you please. But as long as you're under my roof you abide by my rules. No questions asked."

Without saying anything more, Melody went upstairs to her room. Disappointed once again that she couldn't get a word from her daughter in edgewise, Wanda continued to cook dinner. If Melody's brooding silence wasn't enough for Wanda to deal with, she had to deal with her revelation. The whole thing was a bit too much. I hope Harmony isn't this difficult, Wanda thought to herself, if I'm around long enough to see it.

Wanda was exceedingly glad that Lisa Ramirez called. "How are you doing, Wanda? You mentioned Melody was coming home --"

"Lis, she's worse than ever now." After a tearful pause, Wanda said, "Remember that big secret I told you she was keeping from me?"

"Yeah?"

"She told me -- she told me about some girl --."

"Wanda, you're joking. She's a lesbian?"

"Actually, yes, although she didn't exactly say it." Lisa dropped the receiver and decided that she was coming over. She figured Wanda needed emotional support right about now.

Lisa arrived at seven-thirty, without her husband. She caught Wanda sitting at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands. Instinctively she reached for her friend and wouldn't let go.

Chapter Twelve

Warning: there are references to homosexuality and homophobia in this chapter. If this offends you, please stop reading.


Hanover Academy wasn't like most high schools, where students are divided into freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors, and passed along according to specific ages and grade levels. At Hanover, students learned mostly at their own pace, some leaving for college 'early' due to accelerated study programs. Since it was a small school, teachers were able to give students individualized attention, and some even created their own curriculum of study.

Intermittent thunderstorms put Melody in a foul mood as she woke up on the first day of final exams. When she got to the kitchen to fix her cereal, she saw Sarah there in all her glory, wearing nothing but a green nightgown with clovers all over. "Can I join you?" Melody asked tentatively.
"Sure, why not?" responded Sarah, looking up from her bowl.
Melody sat directly across from Sarah, gazing outward at the puddles that had formed on the asphalt of Bluewater Highway. She couldn't remember when it had ever rained this much in the Village."I can't wait till school ends," Sarah said. "Three months away from this dreary old place."
Melody nodded, but admitted she dreaded returning home. "Why?" asked Sarah.
Shaking her head, Melody droned, "You don't understand. You don't have a clue about my situation, and you're the one who ought to have a clue." She stared blankly at her untouched bowl of whole-grain wheat bran flakes.
"I don't know what it is you're afraid of, Mel."
"Sarah, I'm not like you, okay?"
"Are you saying you're not a lesbian?"
Melody paused. "No, that's not --"
Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "That's what you're saying, isn't it?"
Melody turned her head. "I -- I'm not sure what I'm saying --"
Sarah saw Melody's dreamy, far-off look and had to comment. "You know, Mel, when I first met you, you had that look on your face, like you were off somewhere else. It's what I, when I think about it now, it's what I was attracted to."

Final exams at Hanover were in full swing. The girls, particularly the ones in the honors program, sought to either maintain good standing or improve their standing, especially with colleges breathing down their backs. One more test, and the girls would begin moving out of the dormitory and back home with their families for the next three months.
To celebrate the end of the school year, Miss Hanover arranged for boys from Pleasantview Prep to attend an informal get-together with her girls. Fourteen boys from Pleasantview Prep arrived in all, including Alexander Goth, the heir to the largest fortune in town, and his friend, Jason Barnes, a preppy, tanned athlete. "Smile, will ya?" Sarah whispered to Melody, who stood beside her as Alexander flashed her a grin. "He may be dorky but his friend's kind of cute."
Melody rolled her eyes. "He's a prick," she whispered to Sarah. "You don't even know him."
"And you do?"
Melody sighed. "He just looks like the type. He's a prick."
Alexander and Jason walked toward Melody and Sarah. Straightening her posture, Sarah gave Melody a nudge. "Be cool."
Just then Alecia Charvat, the most popular girl in school, walked past, along with Jill Vance, Andrea Seavey, and Allyson Wade. Alecia put her hand on Jason's shoulder. "What are you doing talking to them?" Alecia asked snottily. "They're losers."
Sarah shot Alecia an angry glare. "Who you callin' a loser?"
"You -- you and your geeky girlfriend over there," Alecia shouted, pointing directly at Melody. "Everybody knows you're a couple. I've seen how you two look at each other."
Melody didn't say anything, but Sarah sure did. "I thought you were my friend, Lecy."
"So, you're a dyke, eh?" shouted Jason in Melody's face as he approached her.
"I'm not a dyke!" Melody screamed meekly and defensively, not sure she herself believed what she said. Meanwhile, Jason proceeded to pelt her with water balloons he had hidden in his pocket for 'times like these.' Melody did not take kindly to the water balloons. Dusting herself off, she proceeded to slap Jason in the face.
"That hurt!" Jason shouted, but one got the feeling that more was hurting than the side of his face.
Melody, however, declined to say anything further, instead choosing to walk away from the scene.

Wanda arrived just after Melody's last exam to pick her up and whisk her away, back to their house on the other side of Bluewater Village. "C'mon, Melody, let's go!" she shouted to the top of her voice.
"I'm coming, Mom, I'm just picking up a few things." In reality, however, Melody was stalling for time. She didn't want to leave and face all the changes that had happened in her life.
After a mostly silent car ride, the Tinkers finally arrived at their home at 32 Eagle Lane on the north side of the Village. The place looks exactly the same, Melody thought, but smelled a lot different. Of course it smelled different. It reeked of the smells and sounds of a new baby in the house.
Stephen had decided to take a leave of absence from work to help his wife care for their new baby daughter. They had no dream that they'd be spending their days with diapers and hourly feedings so close to their golden years. The last time they had done this, of course, they were much younger. It was an alien feeling, but at the same time strangely exhilarating and revitalizing.

"Mom --" Melody called, entering her parents' bedroom.Wanda lay on her bed in a rare moment of respite. Baby Harmony was now fast asleep after a feeding and a changing, so Melody's voice took her by surprise."Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure, sweetie, what's going on?" This is it, Wanda told herself. Lisa was right, she's ready now.
"Well, I kinda need to tell you something."
Wanda saw Melody nervously pacing the room. "You want to sit down?"
Shaking her head no, Melody continued. "This is really hard --"
"What is it, honey? Is something wrong?"
Melody bit her lip. "I -- I met someone at school."
"You met someone? That's great, sweetie. What's his name?"
"Her -- her name is Sarah. She was my roommate. One day we were fooling around and -- I -- I -- I kissed her."
"Melody!" Wanda whispered in disbelief.
"Mom, this is why I didn't want to tell you."
Wanda rose slowly from the bed. "Melody, sweetheart, I -- I don't know what to say."
"This is hard for me, too, mom. You think I went off to school to kiss a girl? It just -- happened. I can't change it, I can't erase it. If I could I would."
"Melody --" Forcing out a nervous laugh, Wanda continued. "Of all the things you could have told me --"
"What were you expecting, mom?" asked Melody. "Just curious."
"I think I might have been better off if you came back pregnant, to be honest. At least I'd get a grandchild out of it." A single solitary tear flowed down Wanda's face when she realized the significance of what Melody had just said. "My daughter -- my beautiful little daughter --" Wanda's tears began to flow freely now. "How could this have happened -- to us?" She reached for Melody, who was now crying herself, and embraced her.