Signals Crossed

21

The movie had long since stopped making sense.

Somewhere in the background, actors were still screaming and running through dark hallways, but Adam Horovitz hadn't followed the plot in at least an hour.

Mel was asleep against his shoulder, curled slightly into his side without even realizing it.

And he was stuck there.

Not physically.

He could move if he wanted to.

But he couldn't bring himself to wake her.

⸻

The digital clock beside his bed blinked over to 1:03 AM.

Ad frowned automatically.

"She should be home," he muttered under his breath.

Even as he said it, he already knew why she wasn't worried.

Saturday night.

Which meant her father probably wasn't even there.

The thought immediately soured his mood.

He hated that guy.

Not in the dramatic teenage way where you complained about somebody's parents for being strict or annoying.

No.

He hated the way Mel always shrugged things off like they didn't matter.

The way she acted like it was normal to let herself into an empty house at one in the morning.

The way she never expected anybody to be waiting up for her.

Ad's jaw tightened slightly.

Her mom would've waited.

Her mom had adored her.

And she'd adored him too.

⸻

He still remembered sitting at their kitchen table as kids, both of them muddy from playing outside while Mel's mother laughed at the state of them.

"Honestly," she'd said once, shaking her head while handing them sandwiches, "you two are like feral raccoons."

Mel had grinned proudly.

Ad had nearly choked laughing.

And her mother had looked at him with this warmth he didn't get at many other houses.

Like she trusted him.

Like she knew he'd always look after her daughter.

The memory hit differently now.

He swallowed hard.

Because he'd been trying to protect Mel for so long he wasn't sure where the instinct ended and everything else began.

⸻

He glanced down at her sleeping face.

Even now, she still looked younger when she slept. Softer somehow.

Not guarded.

Not trying to prove anything.

Ad studied her quietly.

The funny thing was, he'd never thought there was anything wrong with the way she was.

Everybody else acted like she needed to change eventually. Like becoming prettier or softer or more feminine was some inevitable thing she had to grow into.

But Ad had loved her exactly as she was from the start.

Tomboy Mel with scraped knees and oversized shirts.