Misacceptation

            Melinda sat at the front of the class and read from her Italian text book aloud to the class upon her teacher’s instructions. The seventeen year old girl hated popcorn reading because no one picked her except for the teacher. The teacher always started off with her, and then Melinda had to choose someone else to read the next section, that someone else was always Nick, her used to be best friend. He was the only person in the class who she knew wouldn’t give her crap if she called on him.

            The second time they had done popcorn reading, Melinda had called on the girl sitting next to her, Karla. The chick had whined about being called, something about having a sore throat, so the teacher asked Melinda to choose someone else, so she chose the girl on the other side of her, Louisa. Louisa also complained about a fake injury, Melinda knew it to be fake because the two girls rattled off words together right after class in the following classes right afterwards.

            It was like that for the first few weeks of school, no matter who Melinda called. So she was forced to choose Nick, who she had been avoiding for two years. When she called on him, she was expecting the same thing to happen, but he just read. Melinda even noticed the students around her being flabbergasted by this, because she saw their eyes bulge from their heads and swerve around to him. She guessed that the entire class was supposed to mock her, including him, and he must have backed out. She didn’t stop to wonder why.

            Today, after reading the section, she called on Nick. Before she could hear his voice utter the words “La bandiera italiana è stata fatta,” Clara, Nick’s ex-girlfriend, raised her hand and said the words that Melinda had hoped would never be spoken aloud during her lifetime.

            “Can someone tell Melinda that she shouldn’t make it so obvious when she has a crush on someone, please?”

            “Clara!” Ms. Liole scolded.

            “Oops! Sorry. I meant, Può qualcuno dire a Melinda che non dovrebbe rendere più così ovvie quando lei ha una cotta per qualcuno, per favore?” Clara apologized in a sickening sweet sort of way.

            Melinda kept her face glued to her textbook and hid her reddening face. She didn’t want to look at everyone’s faces, she didn’t want to look at Clara, and she really didn’t want to look at Nick. Hearing the class laugh at Clara’s ridicule just made things worse.

            At the end of school, Melinda found herself walking home in a sort of trance. She had gone through the rest of school in the same trance, and when she got home to open her notebooks to do her homework, she would realize she was in such a stupor that she hadn’t written any notes down. Just as she was reaching the front of her home, she heard a car honk its horn and a masculine voice. A familiar voice that she had heard everyday answer her own in Italian class, once that she hoped to never hear after what happened to her two years ago.

            “Melinda! Wait up, we need to talk,” Nick shouted to her, turning off his car, and hauling his ass out as if there were a bomb inside that he had to get away from. Melinda just walked faster, and ended up tripping over the front steps and hitting her elbow on the front door to her house.

            Reaching her, helping her up, Nick wasn’t sure what to say, and Melinda didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Looking up into his dark soulless eyes, and him looking down into her golden irises, it seemed as though they had both become statues. They hadn’t actually spoken to one another for two years, and it was his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You’re forgiven,” She responded, turning around quickly to open her door and leave him on the doorstep. Unfortunately for her, he just jammed his foot in the door and pushed his way through. She knew what he was capable of, she knew what he could do, so she didn’t even bother running from him, or yelling for that matter.

“We still need to talk,” He said, slamming the door behind him. At the sound of the door slamming, her jerked towards it and apologized.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She said, throwing her backpack onto the sofa and sitting on the edge of the couch.

“If we’re going to keep acting like nothing happened between us two years ago, then yes, we do. Back in class, stuff like that is going to keep happening until we show them it doesn’t bother us.”

“Bother me. Not you. Me. They love you, Mr. All Star.”

“It bothers me too. And they don’t even know he whole story. They just know that I left your place late at night missing my shirt and pants, police on my tail, and nothing more than that. You know . . . I still care about you. I never would have done what I did if I didn’t care about you, and I’d do it again.”
            “You didn’t do it for me, you did it for yourself.”

“I did it for the both of us.”

“What do you want?”
            Silence. Nick looked at the floor and put his hand in his pockets. He look like he was thinking. Melinda had her arms crossed around her midsection, as though she were hugging herself, she was afraid of his answer.

“What did you do with everything?”

“Buried it all out back. When the cops got here, I had gotten everything in those black trash bags and gotten it outside. When they left, I buried it all.”

“Good.”

“Are you still at it?”

“Yeah. Can’t seem to stop myself.”

“Well, if you ever need anything disposed of,” She laughed, looking away from him and wondering when he would leave. Hoping that if she pretended to continue being okay with what he was, he would leave.

“So, we’re okay? We can go back to being friends?”

“Sure. Are you going to leave now?”

“I think it would be best if we told everyone we were dating.”

“Why?”

“It would explain some stuff. They wouldn’t be able to target us very much anymore either.”

“Is that why you came here? For an alibi?”

“No. No, I came here because I care about you.”

“You only care about yourself!”

“I killed them for you!”

“You killed them because you couldn’t control yourself! You were hungry, and you were going to kill me, but you killed them instead!”

“Would you rather they had lived? After everything they did to you?”

“No! I just . . . I just . . .”

With every sentence slung at one another, nick moved closer to Melinda and ended up looking into her eyes again. They were still, like marble. He hovered over her lips, and crashed into her. He gave her his passion in one kiss, she gave him her frustration in return. Pulling apart from one another, they gasped for air and looked at one another in a haze.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I try.” Nick moved a piece of Melinda’s brunette curls from her face to around her ear and pulled her in for another kiss. She let him.

“Don’t mistake the things I do for nonchalance. I do care about you, I’d do anything for you, and you’ve seen me do everything for you.”