Merry-Sue: The Girl From BC

School? As in... school?

Downstairs, back in the small dining room, Rachel joined her parents for dinner, allowing Becky to tend to Merry-Sue's underwear needs (and explinations on why humans even need underwear) by herself. Rachel, awkwardly, pulled up a chair and sat herself down beside her mother, avoiding her stern glares as she did her best to focus her gaze firmly upon the empty dinner plate before her. The floral pattern grazing the circular edges of the white plate appeared suddenly so curious and foreign.

"Rachel," Mrs Montague cooed a little too sweetly.

"Yeah mom?" her daughter asked sheepishly.

"That girl is going to leave after dinner, correct?"

"I highly doubt it," Rachel shrugged.

"I will not have some unfamiliar, random young girl sleep over in my house without meeting her patents first," Mrs Montague squirmed, leaping back into her maternal, stern self.

"You literally just said she could stay," Rach pointed out frankly, "Like 5 minutes ago, remember?"

"Well, I thought it through. I don't care whether she's Becky's only friend, I want to speak to the girl's parents," Mrs Montague commented quite conversationally as she slapped her husband's hand away from the large salad bowl placed on the centre of the dining table, warning him, "Not before everyone is seated. It's not polite."

Rachel muffled her chuckle, but wasn't keen on keeping an amused expression as her mother continued, "Why can't you introduce Becky to some of your friends? I've told you time and time again, she is your sister and isn't as good with people as you are." Mrs Montague always went soft at the possibility of her younger, antisocial child actually having normal human interractions like every other kid her age. She suspected that, being her sister and all, Rachel could encourage Becky with an advantage at everything the latter wasn't quite eligible with.

"Mom, my friends are mine. Her friends and her business has nothing to do with mine. I can't just welcome a 7th grader into an 8th grade social gathering, that is so lame!" Rachel explained.

"Love you too, sis," Becky commented sarcastically as she took a seat beside her sister, Merry-Sue following the example. Becky adjusted the red rim of her thick glasses over nose and exibitied the same level of interest for her silverware as Rachel had previously done with her empty plate.

"Rebecca."

"Yes mother?" Becky inquired nervously.

"Why has your friend not changed into something more appropriate?" Mrs Montague puzzled, gesturing towards Merry-Sue's clothing choices.

"I did change!" Merry-Sue cut in unapologetically, "You didn't expect me to remain in my wedding dress, did you?"

"She's comfortable in this..." Becky yelled over the second part of Merry-Sue's sentence, to make sure the cave girl did not utter audiably anything she might later regret, "peculiar attire. She firmly believes in never breaking your character if you are a devoted actor."

Becky had lied so capably and swiftly through her irregularly brushed teeth. Rachel scribbled down a mental note to applaud her sister at some point, for her wit and ready reaction. Even Becky herself seemed convinced in the legitimacy of her far-fetched gibberish. Rachel, on the other hand, couldn't lie to save her life.

Merry-Sue sat quietly, occasionally shifting awkwardly in her chair ("Seats made of stone are suprisingly more comfortable than your fancy ones!"). She wore the same, plain, fake leopard skin dress she wears on a daily basis back at home, and her large, sparkly bone still poked from underneath her untamed hair. She was such an odd addition to the picture of an otherwise casual and traditional family meal.