Chapter Text
Melissa King had a highly sensitive internal clock. A side effect of having a brain that preferred fixed intervals and predictable data. She knew, without a doubt, unless she were to open her mouth and speak, her mom would continue to move around the kitchen without noticing her.
She stood by the edge of the kitchen for twelve minutes before her mother looked up from her paperwork.
"Oh, Mellie," her mother spoke, blinking as she dropped a handful of color coded scheduling tabs onto the counter. She pulled at a loose clip from her hair and a few strands fell down. "I didn't hear you come down. Did you need the car keys? Becca’s occupational therapist is coming at four, and then we have the pharmacy run for her new sensory tools—"
"I don’t need the car, Mom," Mel answered and tucked her hands into the sleeves of her favorite cardigan as her fingers stimmed a steady five count against her thighs.
One, two, three, four, five.
Five, four, three, two, one.
"Today is the start of spring break. I’m going to the lake house with Trinity. I told you about it a few times this month."
Her mother paused, looking at her with tired eyes. "Right. Of course. I’m sorry, sweetie, my brain is just... Becca had a really difficult transition into a new after school activity last week. She wouldn't let me touch her headphones and I’ve been trying to track down the specific weighted vest she likes—"
"It's totally fine," Mel interrupted but kept her voice even and flat. A tone she mastered by the age of ten, shortly after her father’s heart stopped beating during a Saturday morning grocery run.
When you share a womb with your twin who requires around 85% of the household’s emotional and financial oxygen, you learn to make yourself small, as to not be a bother. Becca still needed the specialized care and routines which in turn made Mel the easy one. The one who got straight A's without asking for help on her homework. The one left in the background because she didn't ever ask for anything.
"You have all your bags?" her mother's eyes drifted back to the calendar in front of her.
"Yes. They’re by the door."
"Have fun, Mellie. Text me when you get there. Tell Trinity’s parents thank you."
"I will."
Mel walked out to the porch, carrying her duffel bag behind her—that familiar, hollow ache of being invisible—dragging with it. For eighteen years, she’s felt like a ghost haunting her own life, speaking a language made up from textbooks and literal thoughts that made her peers look at her like she was an alien.
High school was an exercise in isolation that Mel got used to. People didn't understand why she wouldn’t laugh at their double entendres or why she would correct a teacher's syllabus error in class. They thought she was weird and many saw her as a nerd, an encyclopedia with a heartbeat.
Until Trinity Santos knocked over a beaker of hydrochloric acid during their senior AP Chemistry lab eight months ago.
Trinity didn’t panic, just muttered a string of creative profanities and grabbed a box of baking soda, then looked at Mel—who was calmly neutralizing the spill—and said, "Well, you’re a badass. Want to eat lunch in my car so I don't have to look at the losers in the cafeteria?"
Trinity was loud, brash and used way too much sarcasm like a shield to keep the world at a distance. But Mel’s brain didn't register her sarcasm as a threat. She looked at it as a puzzle she could eventually figure out.
When Trinity made a joke, Mel would explain why the joke’s premise was factually incorrect but instead of getting annoyed, Trinity would genuinely laugh.
Trinity was the first person who ever looked at Mel’s world and decided it was a place worth visiting. The days when Trinity would fall into her occasional depressive episodes—where she couldn't leave her bedroom and her eyes looked empty—Mel wouldn’t ask anything of her.
Mel would sit on the floor of Trinity's room, quietly reading her biology textbooks aloud, providing a steady voice until Trinity could breathe again.
Mel kept Trinity gentle where Trinity allowed Mel to feel real.
And then there was Frank.
Mel knew Frank Langdon primarily as an annoying presence in Trinity’s life. When Trinity’s dad married Frank’s mom three years ago, the families merged when Frank was a senior in high school and Trinity was a freshman.
To Mel, he was the sharp jawed college sophomore in the framed photos on the Santos-Langdon home hallways. Trinity rarely talked about him in depth. Whenever Mel asked about him, who funny enough was pursuing pre-med (exactly what Mel and Trinity also plan to do), Trinity would only offer curt answers like "He's just an energetic cynic who thinks he's a doctor already" before quickly changing the subject.
Mel assumed he would stay a distant variable. But she was proved wrong.
A silver Honda Civic pulled into Mel's driveway. The driver’s door swung open just as Trinity climbed out of the passenger side, moving toward the backseat as she muttered something about needing a nap. Trinity looked characteristically messy in an oversized black hoodie and her dark hair pinned up with a claw clip.
"Get in, King," Trinity yelled, waving her arm. "Frank’s being a psycho about the highway traffic, and if we don't leave now, he’s going to start lecturing me about fuel efficiency."
Mel picked up her duffel bag as her heart started beating faster. Trinity didn’t tell her that Frank would be driving them. She walked quickly to the trunk, which was already popped open.
And standing there was Frank.
He was significantly bigger than the photographs showed, more muscle toned. He wore a blue t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders perfectly.
Frank started a strict running and weight lifting schedule with his best friend Shen during their freshman year. His hair was dark, more swoopy and slightly messy as his bright blue eyes moved quickly, like his brain was processing five things at once.
"You must be Mel.”
His voice wasn't the arrogant tone Mel had prepared herself for. It was a pleasant sound and he didn't just offer a polite smile. Instead, his gaze locked onto her clearly.
Mel adjusted her posture, suddenly feeling self conscious. He wasn't just casually looking at her.
It felt like he was noticing her.
Most people just looked at her the way they looked at weather forecasts or instruction manuals, briefly and only when necessary. They would move on and go about their day. Frank wasn’t doing that. The way he’s entirely focused on her right now felt intentional, like he was waiting on her every word because he was actually interested.
The realization made an uncomfortable flutter go through her stomach.
"Yes," Mel’s voice caught in her throat before she ran the words together. "It’s mathematically efficient for us to carpool as it reduces our collective carbon footprint."
Frank froze for a second as his hands grabbed the handle of her duffel bag. A soft grin broke across his face, eyes crinkled tightly at the corners. "Mathematically efficient. I like that. I’m Frank."
Frank had expected her to be a little more serious. Trinity talked about Mel enough that he'd already sort of built an image of her in his head, unconsciously.
A girl who was quiet but brilliant and maybe a little intimidating but in a good way. Not like Trinity. Instead, Mel responded with such sincerity and sometimes looked genuinely confused but Frank found himself smiling before he could stop it.
Trinity didn’t exaggerate that her best friend was weird.
Endearingly weird, Frank thought.
"I know," Mel replied, totally literal. "Your mom has a bunch of pictures of you in the hallway."
From the backseat, Trinity snorted. "Told you she’s the best, Francis. Now put the bag away and let’s go."
Frank didn't look at Trinity. His eyes remained on Mel as he lifted her bag into the trunk. "Don't mind the gremlin in the back. Take the front seat, Mel. Let's get this show on the road."
Mel hesitated, clutching the straps of her backpack. "Are you sure? Trinity usually sits upfront, doesn't she?"
"Trinity is already functionally comatose," Frank nodded toward the back window where Trinity was already stretching her legs across the entire back row, pulling her hood over her eyes. "She’ll be asleep before we hit the interstate. Take the front. I need someone who can actually keep me awake since I've been driving since six this morning."
Mel climbed into the passenger seat and a clean laundry smell immediately filled her senses. Frank closed the trunk and slid back into the driver's seat.
Frank shifted into reverse, stretching his arm over the back of Mel's headrest as he looked out the rear window. Mel sat rigidly as her fingers started their usual five count against her thigh.
One, two, three, four, five.
"Alright, first is getting through the bypass before the afternoon rush. If we clear that, it’s a straight shot on the highway all the way north."
"That makes sense," Mel adds, eyes focused on the glove compartment. "The traffic usually increases after three-thirty."
Frank flashed a quick look at the side of her face, his thumb tapping the wheel. "Three-thirty. Noted. I'll try to beat the clock."
From the backseat, a rustling sound cut through as Trinity pulled her hoodie completely over her face. "If you two are going to talk logistics for the next three hours, I'm legally dead. Do not perceive me."
"Don't worry, gremlin, nobody wants to perceive you," Frank shot back. He adjusted his rearview mirror, then glanced sideways at Mel again. "You want to adjust the air, Mel? Or the music?"
"No," Mel responded quickly, her fingers still tapping against her knees. "It's fine."
Frank accelerated onto the main road, his thumb continually drumming against the wheel. Mel let out a slow breath and allowed her hands to finally go still in her lap.
Mel took one last glance at her house with a frown and sad eyes, knowing how little she will be missed.
They all remained quiet as Frank got to the highway ramp and merged carefully into the middle lane. He drove with both hands on the wheel and posture loose, leaning slightly into the door.
Beside him, Mel watched the digital clock change with each passing minute.
The air freshener that dangled from the rearview mirror swayed with the motion of the car. Mel reached for the zipper of her backpack between her feet, pulling it up an inch, then down an inch, just to give her hands something to do.
"So, Trin says you’re already studying for college classes. We still have the whole summer. Aren't you taking a break?"
"I’m just looking over some biology stuff," Mel added, looking out the window. "I want to get a head start on the freshman science tracks. The intro classes are supposed to be pretty hard."
"They are," Frank added. "Intro Bio and Gen Chem are total weed out classes. I took them last year. They try to fail as many pre-med students as possible in the first semester just to clear out the lecture halls."
Mel turned her head which caused her shoulder to dig against the seatbelt. "Did a lot of people drop out of the track?"
"Oh, yeah. Half my floor freshman year changed their majors to business or communications before Thanksgiving," Frank chuckled, his grip tightened on the wheel as a minivan cut slightly into their lane. "I almost did, too. I got a D plus on my first Gen Chem midterm. My mom practically had a stroke. She’s already bought the UPenn Pre-Med bumper sticker since that’s my number one school choice. The D plus didn't really fit the plan."
Mel's eyes traced the side of his face. In the hallway photos at their family home, Frank looked like the kind of guy who got straight A's without trying.
"Gen Chem is notoriously difficult everywhere," Mel retorted. "It doesn't mean you're bad at science."
Frank glanced at her again, taken a little off guard by her response. Most people only hear the complaint and shoot him one right back. Mel took the context of his words and didn’t make him feel worse about it.
She simply acknowledged the reality of it and it was oddly comforting.
"Exactly. It’s all trick questions. The lab practicals are even worse. If your decimal point is off by one place, the grad student grading your report just slashes a red pen through the whole page." He paused, jaw relaxing a bit. "Where were you last winter? I could've used someone to remind me that the exams were just poorly designed."
"I was studying for AP exams," Mel exclaimed, a small smile breaking through her usual guard.
"Well, you and Trin are going to crush it," Frank observed and shot her a smile. "If you ever get stuck on the biology labs next year, let me know. I kept all my old flashcards."
"Thanks.”
A classic rock song on the radio faded out as Frank reached toward the center console and hovered his hand over the aux cord. "Trin’s road trip playlist is just a lot of screaming, which is great when you're trying to stay awake early in the morning but a bit much for this three hour drive. Why don’t you plug your phone in. Pick whatever you want." Frank insisted, internally wanting to hear the kind of music Mel was into.
Mel hesitated, "Trinity says my music doesn't match my personality."
"Now I definitely want to hear it," Frank urged. "Plug it in, King. Let’s see what we're working with."
She plugged the cord into her phone and tapped her screen. A second later, the rhythm of Megan Thee Stallion’s Savage boomed through the car speakers.
Frank froze, his hand still resting near the volume knob. He looked over at her, eyebrows shooting up. "No way."
Mel looked back at the glove compartment, her face entirely serious. "I like the rhythm. It makes it very easy to track time while walking or if I need a mood booster."
Frank chuckled as he turned the volume up a couple of notches. "Megan Thee Stallion. Alright. I see you, Mel. That’s an elite study track." His hand began to tap in perfect sync with the music. "I’ll probably be stopping for gas soon. What’s your go-to gas station order, Mel? If you could only pick one snack and one drink for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
Mel looked down at her hands. "I really like Gold Peak’s green tea. And... the pretzel sticks that are extra salted. But only the thin ones, not the thick rods."
"Gold Peak green tea and extra salt thin pretzels. Got it. What about candy? Are you a chocolate person or a sour person?"
"Neither," Mel replied, keeping her hands tucked into her cardigan sleeves. "The texture of gummy candy is too chewy and I hate when chocolate makes my hands sticky if it melts."
"Fair enough. Pretzels and green tea it is.”
Mel shoots him a smile in appreciation.
“Trin mentioned a while back that you have a twin. What's that like? Are you guys identical, or do you look totally different?"
"We're fraternal but still look slightly similar. And we're kind of different. My sister, Becca, is on the spectrum so she requires specific routines and schedules. If things change too quickly, it’s hard for her to handle." She paused, eyes drifting back to the window. "A lot of energy goes into managing her day. So I just stay out of the way. It’s easier if I take care of my own things."
Frank didn't look over to her right away. He kept his eyes on the highway and the silence that stretched between them wasn't the typical pressure she feels when speaking about her and Becca’s dynamic, it felt more open.
"Must be a lot of weight to carry by yourself.”
The words slipped out before Frank could stop them. Mel's expression didn't change but her shoulders tightened and he wondered if he crossed a line. That was the last thing he wanted to do when getting to know her, it felt too important.
Mel didn't respond and kept her eyes on the fields of Michigan. Aside from Trinity, nobody had ever asked about her world. Her peers at school only spoke to her when they needed an answer for their homework.
The low fuel signal illuminated with a beep. Frank steered the car down an off ramp toward a gas station. The deceleration broke Trinity’s slumber just enough for her groan loudly from the backseat.
"Are we there yet?" Trinity muttered, voice thick from sleep as she pulled her hood down around her eyes.
"Not yet, gremlin," Frank answered, clicking his seatbelt off. "Gas stop. State your demands."
"Blue Gatorade and salt and vinegar chips," Trinity ordered.
Mel’s fingers fumbled with the zipper of her backpack. "I can come inside and grab everything. I can pay for it."
"Hey," Frank interrupted gently. He reached out, his hand hovered just an inch above her backpack, blocking her movement without making physical contact. "Put the wallet away, Mel. My car, my road trip rules. I’ve got it."
"But I want to help—"
"You're navigating," Frank sent a quick wink and slid out of the driver's seat. It was a lie and both of them knew it but he didn’t want her to feel completely useless.
He'd only known her for an hour, probably less than that, yet every time Mel declined or offered something, it sounded less like her just being polite and more like a habit. Like she genuinely expected to take care of herself because nobody else would.
Frank didn't like that thought and he wasn't sure why yet.
Mel watched through the window as he headed toward the convenience store, his walk long and relaxed. Mel’s fingers slowed their stimming as she found herself tracking the way he ran a hand through his hair and swooped it over as a strand fell over his forehead. She watched the way his shirt shifted across his back as he reached out to pull open the glass door. Her chest tightened with a strange heat that had absolutely nothing to do with the spring air.
Mel pulled her eyes away just as he disappeared behind the door. This was ridiculous, she thought. She’d known Frank for approximately forty-five minutes. Forty-seven, if she counted their introduction in her driveway.
And Trinity was in the backseat which meant whatever her brain was doing right now needed to stop.
A few minutes later, Frank appeared again and tossed the blue Gatorade and chips over his shoulder to Trinity.
Without a word, he handed the green tea to Mel and beside it, he dropped the bag of pretzel sticks. Mel checked the label and it was the exact brand she told him.
Mel held the cold bottle in her hands as a wave of appreciation washed over her. It was a little unnecessary for her to feel this way. It was just a drink and a snack, the littlest detail but she had been used to being the easy one that no one cared enough to remember.
But Frank did.
“Thank you, Frank.” She looked up, letting her guard drop completely and offered him an unreserved smile. Her wide, round smile she usually hid because she thought it made her look strange.
Frank caught her gaze and his eyes widened as he took in the brightness of her face. He cleared his throat quickly and ripped his eyes away to focus on moving to pump the gas so they could get back on the road.
Jesus, Frank thought, his heart thudded as he stared at the numbers rolling on the pump. Where did that come from? Her smile caught him off guard and made his head feel fuzzy as he gripped the nozzle tighter, waiting for his ears to stop burning.
“Yeah,” Frank muttered as he got back into his seat, his voice was a little rougher than before. “No problem, Mel. Gotta keep my co-pilot fed.”
As the car pulled back onto the highway, Mel opened her drink as her smile remained fixed on the window, completely unaware of the way Frank’s eyes kept checking her profile during the remaining miles of the drive.
The view of Michigan began to be surrounded by a dense wall of trees. The air through the car smelled different now—crisper as it carried the scent of lake water.
Frank slowed the car as they hit the exit ramp. “Alright,” he broke the long silence. “We’re officially off the highway. Just a few local roads left.”
Mel turned her head, tracing the condensation of her half-empty green tea. “According to the map, the turn for the lake road should be approximately three miles ahead on the right.”
“Look at you, putting my GPS out of a job,” Frank chuckled. He stretched his right arm briefly, his fingers flexed against the steering wheel before settling back down. “Trin’s dad bought this place a few years ago and I still miss the turn half the time because it's tucked behind a cluster of overgrown trees.”
“A visual obstruction like this isn’t good for seeing oncoming vehicles,” Mel noted. “It should be cut back to meet safety standards.”
Frank’s eyes crinkled at the corners as an amused smile pulled at his lips. God, she really does have a rule or metric for everything, he thought, shifting his body to lean more into his door. She was so different from the friends and groups he usually surrounded himself with at school. Mel seemed more steady and aware of everything around her.
“I’ll make sure he knows he’s violating county ordinances. Though knowing him, he keeps it that way so people stay away.”
He slowed the car down as they approached the mile mark. Sure enough, a narrow, gravel road appeared. The tires crunched loudly and the change in vibration caused Trinity to wake in the back.
“Are we there yet?” Trinity muffled with a yawn.
“We’re here, gremlin. Wake up,” Frank retorted over his shoulder.
The lane wound deeper into the woods with an overhead canopy of trees that blocked out most of the sky. Then the trees cleared and the Santos-Langdon lake house sat on a small ridge overlooking the water. It was a sprawling structure made of dark wood and stone, with a wrap around porch. Beyond it, Lake Michigan stretched out wide.
“We made it,” Frank stated as he parked the car and turned it off.
Trinity immediately kicked her door open, tumbling out and stretching her arms and legs wide. Mel unbuckled her seatbeat slowly, eyes fixed on the massive house and the body of water. It was beautiful and the scale of the open space made her chest feel strangely happier. She reached for the strap of her backpack as her fingers stimmed against her thigh again. One, two, three, four, five.
“Hey.”
Mel paused, looking to her left. Frank also hadn’t moved to get out yet. He was leaning his elbows on the steering wheel, looking at her with a quiet, observant expression that made her fingers go still.
He’s doing it again, Mel thought, her heart rate spiked under his gaze. He’s looking at me like he’s trying to decode me.
“Don’t let Trin rush you. Take your time. It’s a lot to take in at first.”
Mel looked down at her lap as her throat felt slightly dry. “The atmospheric pressure changes near large bodies of water can alter internal equilibrium. It’s a temporary physiological adjustment.”
“Right,” Frank mumbled with a small smile as he opened his door. A physiological adjustment. Yeah, that’s one way to put what’s happening to my chest right now. He shook his head lightly and stepped out on the gravel.
As Mel followed, the wind caught the bottom of her cardigan as she hooked her backpack over her shoulder. She took a deep breath then exhaled and took it all in.
She walked to the back of the car, watching Frank pop it open and started grabbing the bags. Trinity was already halfway up the porch steps, fumbling with a set of keys.
“Frank! Which key is it again?”
“Seriously Trin? I don’t know, maybe the one that literally has the words lake house printed on it.”
Mel adjusted her backpack, listening to them bicker which made her feel a little uncomfortable. She’s never been one to argue and it was very rare for her to confront another person unless it was serious.
Mel reached for her duffel bag but Frank’s hand got there first. His fingers brushed against her—just a quick, accidental touch—but a sudden spark shot straight up her arm.
“I’ve got the heavy stuff, Mel,” Frank demanded, lifting her bag effortlessly. He slung it over his shoulder which caused his shirt to rise at the bottom.
Mel’s eyes tracked the peak of hair along his abdomen, a rush of heat rose up her neck as she looked away just as quickly.
Frank turned his head to the side and smiled to himself. She noticed, he thought with a smug flare of satisfaction. He didn’t want her to know he caught her looking but knowing he could pull her focus away from her strict and logical mind, felt like a massive win in his book.
He picked up Trinity’s bag with his other hand, barely shifting his posture under the wight. “Just grab your tea. Let’s get inside before the sun drops all the way. It gets freezing here the second it goes dark.”
Mel nodded and kept her hands tucked flat against the sides of her thighs to curb her urge to stim. “The temperature differential between the forested areas and the shoreline can fluctuate as much as ten degrees during twilight hours.”
Frank paused as he looked in her eyes. Mel couldn’t help but notice the light caught the sharp line of his jaw and turned his messy, dark hair a lighter shade of brown. His eyes held her gaze for two, three, four seconds, Mel mentally counted.
“Ten degrees,” he repeated lowly, almost like he was processing a puzzle of his own. The corners of his mouth twitched up into that now familiar grin. “Good to know. I’ll make sure we keep the firewood stocked.”
He turned and began walking up the gravel path and up the steps confidently despite the heavy bags. Mel watched him go and tried to catch her breath as she followed him.
When Mel stepped over the threshold, the house opened up to a big open room with exposed wood beams and a spacious layout with long hallways and a cozy kitchen.
"Dibs on the back bedroom by the deck!" Trinity’s voice shouted from somewhere down a hallway. A second later, the distant thud of her bag hit the floorboards, followed by the sound of her collapsing onto a bed. "Frank, don't make me move for the next two hours! I’m officially off duty!"
"You literally slept the whole way here," Frank called out, setting Mel’s duffel bag down on a bench by the hallway opening.
Mel’s eyes couldn’t help but widen as she took in the place. It was even bigger than her mom’s house that they still haven’t paid off.
"You want to choose your room?" Frank asked her. "There are two guest rooms down this hallway, completely away from her, or three more down the other hallway. The one at the end of the first one is usually the quietest."
"I don't mind the noise," Mel noted as she walked closer to him. "Trinity’s always loud but I'm used to it now."
Frank paused and turned his head just enough for her to see the side of his face. A look of quiet surprise crossed his face before it turned into another one of his easy grins. She doesn't even realize how accommodating she forces herself to be, he thought as a feeling of irritation rose up—not at Mel but at the fact that she was so used to taking up zero space.
“Yeah? Well, you’re stronger than I am. I usually need a pair of earplugs after spending two days with her.”
He stopped at the second to last door in the first hallway and chose a room that put Mel close enough to the center to feel connected but far enough to give her space. The room was big but cozy, with a wooden bed frame covered in a thick, blue quilt, a small dresser and a wide window overlooked the side yard.
Frank set her bags down on the bed and stepped back toward the doorway, his tall frame filling the space without invading her personal boundaries. His eyes lingered on her for another moment and watched the way she looked at the bed, then the window, then the floor.
"Is the air okay in here?" he asked as his hands slid casually into his front pockets. "It’s been closed up for a few months. I can open the window an inch if it feels too stuffy."
"It's fine," Mel insisted, setting her tea bottle on the wooden coaster on the nightstand. "The blanket looks heavy enough. It’ll keep the chill off."
Frank stayed by the door as one hand rested against the frame and studied her movements. "You always find a practical reason for everything, don't you?"
"It's just easier if I know how things work. Fewer surprises that way."
Frank nodded slowly as his thumb traced the doorframe. Fewer surprises, he repeated mentally, his protective instincts locked onto her words. He could see the slight tension in her neck, the way she was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. Who made her feel like she had to predict everything miles ahead?
"Yeah," Frank's voice cut through the quiet room. "Surprises usually suck. I get that." He cleared his throat, stepping back into the hall, though he kept his eyes on her for a beat longer. "I'm going to start a fire before it gets freezing. Come out whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, Frank.”
He gave her a quick nod and turned back toward the main room.
Mel slowly walked over to the big window and pressed her hand against the glass.
Outside, she could see the shape of Frank as he moved across the deck with his arms full of firewood. Even from here, she could see the way he was just so comfortable in his own skin. Mel shook her head to clear her thoughts that definitely shouldn’t be focused on him right now and moved over to unpack her bag.
She placed her jeans in the top drawer of the dresser in three stacks, aligned her biology textbooks (that Trinity made her promise not to bring but did anyways) perfectly parallel to the edge of the nightstand and plugged in her phone charger.
Once the room matched her standard of order, she walked back into the living room where the fireplace had begun to crackle and headed to Trinity’s room.
She pushed open the door with a light knock. The room was in a state of chaos already. Trinity’s bag was flipped wide open on the floor, an explosion of dark clothes spilled out on the rug. Trinity herself was facedown across the bed, her hair escaping the claw clip and spreading across the pillows.
"The arrangement of your bag suggests a high probability of wrinkled clothing," Mel announced, stopping just inside the doorway.
Trinity didn't lift her head but her shoulders moved as she let out a groan into the pillow. "Do not perceive the mess, Melanoma. The suitcase is an extension of my fractured psyche." She rolled over onto her back with a heavy sigh and stared at the ceiling. "God, my spine feels fucked up. Frank drives like he’s trying to break a speed record."
"His average speed was technically within the suggested margin of the posted speed limits," Mel corrected, walking over to the edge of the bed. She didn't sit down immediately but waited until Trinity shifted her legs over to make space, then settled on the corner of the bed.
Trinity let out a sharp laugh, her eyes losing some of their exhaustion as she looked up at Mel. "Of course you tracked his speed. Did you two just talk about logistics the entire time I was asleep?"
"We discussed pre-med courses, gas station snacks, and music," Mel’s fingers found the hem of her sleeve again as she thought of Frank. And he actually listened, she added internally. He didn't just nod like he was uninterested or bored. "He was... surprisingly attentive."
Trinity paused, her expression softened into something real as her sarcastic shield fell away. She reached out and lightly nudged Mel’s knee with her foot. "He wasn't an asshole to you, was he? Because if he was his typical cynic self, I will go find him and throw his car keys into the lake."
"No," Mel replied quickly. "He was not an asshole. He remembered the exact brand of green tea I told him about. And the thin pretzel sticks."
Trinity stared at her for a second as a knowing smile pulled at her lips. Oh, wow, Trinity thought, her chest tightened protectively. She knew Frank was generous but he was also a college guy wrapped up in his own universe. For him to pay that close attention to a girl he just met—especially a girl as guarded and precious to Trinity as Mel—meant his radar had to be spinning.
"Yeah? Well, don't let it go to his head," Trinity added and leaned back against her pillows. "He prides himself on having a freakish memory for small things. He used to memorize entire anatomy charts just to prove a point to our parents." She rolled onto her side and propped her head on her hand. "But seriously. You okay? I know leaving your house is... a lot. With Becca and your mom."
Mel’s fingers stopped their stimming against her sleeve. She looked down at the floor with a familiar knot in her chest. "My mother forgot about the trip so I had to remind her again."
Trinity didn't offer empty apologies. She didn't say I'm sure she didn't mean to or she was just busy. She just reached across the quilt and wrapped her hand firmly around Mel’s wrist. Her grip was solid and warm, exactly the same way it was when she locked her arm through Mel's when people stared at them for correcting their AP Chem teacher's syllabus error last winter.
"Your mom is missing out on the smartest, coolest person in the world," Trinity remarked, her voice dropped its usual sharp edge completely. "And for the next two weeks, you don't have to be the easy one, Mel. You don't have to stay out of the way. If you want to blast Megan Thee Stallion at three in the morning and explain the exact cellular biology of a hangover to me, I will sit there and listen to every single word."
Mel looked up, her throat tight but the ache in her chest dissolved by Trinity's hand on her wrist as a tiny smile crossed her face. "A hangover is primarily caused by ethanol-induced dehydration and the accumulation of acetaldehyde, which disrupts the citric acid cycle. It’s highly inefficient."
"See? That's the stuff I'm talking about," Trinity laughed and sat up. "Come on. Help me unpack this disaster before Frank comes looking for us."
Mel stood up and reached into the chaotic depths of Trinity's messy pile of clothes. As Trinity began complaining loudly about a lost sock, Mel was just happy to sit there and listen to the familiar tone of her best friend's voice.
"It’s under your sweatpants," Mel added, pulling a tangled neon pink sock out and tossed it at Trinity’s face. "And your clothes are definitely going to be wrinkled."
"Whatever, that's what the dryer is for," Trinity caught the sock and shoved it into a random dresser drawer, jamming it shut with her knee. "Okay, clothes are off the floor. Job well done. Let's go see if Frank has managed to burn the house down yet."
Mel smoothed down the front of her cardigan. "The fireplace has a massive stone hearth and a steel screen. The probability of an accidental fire is low."
"Well, you haven't seen him try to cook," Trinity shot back, throwing her arm loosely over Mel’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway. "But for an actual fire, yeah, he's weirdly good at it. He treats it like some kind of survivalist science project."
When they walked back into the living room, Frank was kneeling on the stone hearth with his back to them as he adjusted a log with a pair of iron rods. He rolled his sleeves up over his forearms which exposed the lean muscle from his wrists to his elbows. Mel’s eyes couldn’t help but waver there for a split second.
The fire cast a flickering light across the room that caught the blue in his eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of their footsteps.
"Look who decided to join the living," Frank joked, leaning the rods against the stone. He stood up and wiped his hands on a rag he had tucked into his back pocket. "I was about to come find you and check if Trin had somehow suffocated under a pile of clothes."
"Ha ha, so funny," Trinity dropped her arm from Mel’s shoulder and walked toward the kitchen. "I'm starving. What are we doing for dinner? If you say we have to grill in the dark, I’m ordering a pizza."
"We're forty minutes from the nearest delivery place, gremlin. Good luck with that," Frank retorted but his eyes didn't follow her. They drifted right past her and settled on Mel. He took a short step back from the fireplace as his posture settled more casually.
She looks so small in a room this big, Frank thought, his gaze tracked the way she kept her thumbs hooked in her cardigan. But she does look less tense. He wanted to make sure she felt comfortable and that this drafty house wasn't throwing off whatever equilibrium she kept for herself.
"Hey, Mel. Is the room still good? Not too cold?"
Mel looked at the crackling logs, then up at him. "It’s good. I’ll be fine."
"Good," Frank repeated. He didn't hover around her but he didn't look away either. He just stood there, relaxed and watched her reaction. "The wood up here burns fast because of the lake breeze coming down the chimney but it keeps the main room warm."
"It's nice," Mel murmured, stepping a little closer toward the heat. She liked the sound of the wood crinkling.
"See? Mel likes it. I'm a genius," Frank called out to Trinity, though his eyes stayed on Mel for another second, noticing the way her fingers were loosely linked together in front of her cardigan.
"You're a psycho who likes manual labor," Trinity yapped from the kitchen as she opened the fridge. "Hey, Frank, why is there literally only mustard and half a lime in here? Where are the grocery bags?"
Frank tore his gaze away from Mel and sighed as he walked toward the kitchen. "They're still in the trunk, Trin. You were on grocery duty."
"I’m a guest in this house," Trinity declared, leaning against the counter.
"You live here three months out of the year," Frank countered. He reached out, his long fingers catching the hood of Trinity's sweatshirt and tugging it over her eyes. "Move it, slouch. Mel, you stay there by the fire. We’ll get the food."
Mel watched them move toward the front door, Trinity shoved Frank’s shoulder while he laughed, completely unbothered by her force. It was interesting to watch the two of them interact, having never really seen this side of Trinity around someone else—the easy, lighter version of her best friend that only came out around her.
Mel’s hands were still against her sides but she didn't feel the need to start another five count as she turned around slowly, letting the heat of the fire warm her back and looked to the lake as the sky turned into a bruise.
At home, the silence was always heavy for Mel to carry. It was the kind of quiet that she had to tread lightly through so she wouldn't disrupt Becca’s routine or add to her mother’s exhaustion. But here, on the first night of her senior year spring break, the silence felt lighter.
The front door was pushed open again and broke her from her inner thoughts.
"If you drop that bag of chips, Francis, I will literally end you," Trinity’s voice preceded her as she stumbled into the kitchen, carrying a large grocery bag in one arm and holding a loaf of bread between her teeth.
Frank followed right behind her, making it look effortless as he carried three more bags in his arms and balanced a cooler against his hip with one hand. His forearms flexed under the weight and there went Mel’s eyes again, betraying her. She looked at his biceps and the casual strength it took to carry all of that.
"I didn't drop anything, dramatic," Frank dumped the bags onto the counter, set the cooler on the floor and stretched his arms over his head, which made his shirt ride up again to show a sliver of his lower back before he pulled it down.
Mel had to physically turn back toward the fire with her face burning red. Stop looking, she told herself firmly. Forty-nine minutes at the driveway, forty-five miles on the road. Total exposure time is under three hours. That’s a statistically insignificant time to be reacting like this. But the heat inside her had absolutely nothing to do with the fire.
"Alright. We have food. Trin, put the cold stuff away before it spoils."
"I’m currently organizing the counter strategy," Trinity stated and ripped open a bag of chips and a container of blueberries, popping three of them into her mouth. "Mel, come here. Look at this. My dad let us buy the expensive frozen pizzas."
Mel walked over to them but kept her hands clasped in front of her. "The preservation of frozen food requires immediate transfer to a sub-zero climate to prevent degradation of the ingredients."
Frank looked up from the grocery bag he was unpacking. "Hear that, Trin? Degradation. Put the pizza in the freezer."
"You two are ganging up on me and we've been here for like thirty minutes," Trinity grumbled but she grabbed the frozen boxes and shoved them into the freezer anyway.
Frank reached into the bottom of the second bag and pulled three plastic bottles and another chip bag. Without saying anything, he slid them across the countertop, stopping right in front of Mel.
It was more of her green tea and pretzel sticks.
Mel looked at them, then up at Frank. "I still have half of the bottle from the gas station on my nightstand."
"Yeah, well, I bought three more," Frank added casually, leaning his hip against the counter and looked down at her. His tone was light, but his eyes were focused on her face, ignoring the mess Trinity was making on the other side of the counter. "Figured you’d like to have extras for when you're chilling and reading those biology textbooks. Pre-med requires a lot of sodium and caffeine. It's a scientific fact."
Mel felt a blush creep up her neck. She reached out, fingers lightly touching one of the bottles. "Technically, green tea has a lower caffeine content compared to black tea or coffee, but it contains L-theanine, which improves cognitive function."
"See? I'm optimizing your study environment," Frank teased and didn't try to move away, staying close enough that Mel could smell the faint scent of fire and ash on him. "You're welcome, Mel."
"Thank you, Frank.”
"Hey, brainiacs," Trinity interrupted and slammed the fridge shut. "Are we eating a pizza or are we just going to stare at each other until we starve?"
Frank didn’t break eye contact with Mel for a half second longer as a tiny smile played on his lips before he turned to Trinity. “Preheat the oven, gremlin. Let’s see if you can manage that without a manual.”
Trinity rolled her eyes dramatically but marched over and punched the buttons with a little more force than necessary. “I expect gourmet results in exactly twenty minutes, Francis.”
She grabbed her bag of chips from the counter and started heading to her room. “I’m going to shower. If you guys eat all the pepperoni before I get back, I will make your lives a living hell.”
“Take your time, Trin. Wash off the rage,” Frank called after her, shaking his head.
The sound of Trinity’s bedroom door closing echoed through the space, followed a minute later by the muffled old water pipes in the walls.
Without Trinity’s sarcastic comments, the kitchen suddenly felt more quiet. Frank remained on the other side of the counter as he folded up the empty paper grocery bags.
“She’s a lot,” Frank broke the silence. “Almost forgot how much since being away for college. Not sure how you put up with her every single day let alone wanting to spend your whole spring break with our crazy family for two weeks.” He slid the folded bags into the cabinet under the sink, then leaned his weight forward and rested both forearms against the counter in front of Mel.
Mel tucked her hands inside her sleeves as her feet shifted against the floor. “Trin makes me feel…like I’m actually there. At school, or anywhere, really. It’s hard to explain.” She looked down at her hands. “And I wanted to come. I don’t really go anywhere.”
Frank didn’t push or prod for more details. She doesn’t go anywhere, he repeated to himself as a wave of sympathy washed over him. He thought of his own high school years—the parties, sports trips and freedom he was allowed. It ran completely counter to everything he was gathering about her life. “Trin told me a little bit about you and Becca. I'd like to hear more from you.”
Mel nodded softly. “Well, our lives are basically built around Becca's routines. If something changes by even two minutes, it throws off her whole week.” Mel looked up and met his eyes before flickering behind him. “It’s easier if I stay out of the way. I’m good at it.”
Frank’s body shifted as his head tilted and face softened into something more attentive that made Mel’s breath hitch as she noticed his long fingers tapped once, twice against the counter.
“You shouldn’t have to be good at that, Mel.”
Mel looked away as her throat suddenly felt very tight. Her mom always thanked her for being the easy one, the one she didn’t have to worry about. And to hear Frank just lay it out so simply when he’d known her for less than a day—like it’s a fact, like it’s data he had analyzed and understood immediately—not a lot of people looked at her invisibility and saw it as a burden, most people didn’t think twice about it.
But he did.
To get rid of the heaviness in the air, she cleared her throat as her eyes landed on his anatomy textbook peaking out of his backpack by his feet. “Is that why you’re doing pre-med? Because you like helping people?”
Frank let out a breathless laugh as the tension broke and rubbed the back of his neck. “Man, you’re sharp. Maybe. My dad’s a surgeon, so there’s definitely some family pressure there. But honestly? I like the puzzle of it. The human body is a system of variables and if you figure out the pattern, you can eventually help fix the problem.”
He leaned in an inch closer, his eyes brighter under the kitchen lights. “Are you excited for college? Trin mentioned you both already got into State. The Gen Chem professor is brutal.”
Mel’s lips twitched upward into a smile, her confidence returned the second their conversation shifted to academics. “I already read the first four chapters of the required textbook. The stoichiometry section seems pretty straightforward.”
Frank just stared at her with his mouth slightly open in disbelief, before a grin broke across his face.
Jesus, she’s incredible, Frank thought. Who reads a chemistry textbook in April for a class that starts in September? He spent his entire freshman year sweating through those chapters and here she was, this shy, brilliant and extremely intelligent girl, sitting and talking about stoichiometry like it was a crossword puzzle. It’s wild. She was a wild card for sure but he felt the sincerity in her voice everytime she spoke and my god, he couldn’t stop looking at her.
“You already read the textbook?” he shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah, okay. You’re definitely going to destroy the curve. I’ll have to come to you for tutoring at this rate.”
“I can help you if you need it,” Mel offered literally.
Frank’s smile stayed as his gaze softened. “I might hold you to that, Mel.”
The oven let out a loud beep, signaling the pizza was done. Frank didn’t move immediately and held Mel’s gaze for another moment to let the foundation of their conversation settle in a little deeper for the both of them.
Frank broke the eye contact and stepped back with a small laugh. “Right, the pizza. Before Trin comes back and starts a riot.”
He took the pizza out of the oven as Mel tried to calm her heat rate. Seventy-two beats per minute is my normal, she thought, her fingers subtly stimmed again. Right now, it’s closer to ninety-eight. An elevated heart rate from a single conversation is an anomaly. What’s happening?
“So,” Frank continued over his shoulder as he cut the pizza. “When you’re not studying, what do you actually do for fun?”
Before Mel could answer, Trinity bursted in from the hallway dressed in another oversized hoodie and sweatpants with a large towel wrapped around her wet hair. She smelled strongly of her usually coconut shampoo.
“The bitch is back,” Trinity announced. She didn’t even look at Frank as she stepped into the space between him and Mel, breaking their line of sight. She grabbed Mel by her arm and started pulling her closer. “Mel-atonin, you’re coming with me.”
Frank paused with the pizza cutter in hand, his eyebrows drawing together as he looked at them. A look of annoyance flashed in his eyes. Seriously? He had just gotten Mel to relax and open up a little with him and Trinity was already sweeping back in to pull her back into her shell. “Trin, the food just finished. Can you let her breathe for like five minutes?”
Trinity’s internal radar started screaming. She could feel the vibe in the room the second she walked back in—the way Frank leaned against the counter and the softness in Mel’s face. No way, Trinity thought as her chest tightened. Frank is my brother but he’s also a college guy who moves fast and Mel is…Mel. She doesn’t do casual and she doesn’t deserve to be a summer distraction.
“Mel is my best friend, Francis. You had three hours of logistical talk in the car. It’s our time now.” She didn’t wait for him to argue back. “We’re taking our slices to my room and we’re locking the door.”
Frank let out another annoyed breath as his eyes tried to drift back to Mel but Trinity shifted, deliberately blocking his view. Fine, Frank thought, frustrated but recognized the territorial look in Trinity’s eyes. I know when to let her win.
He slid three hot slices of pizza onto a plate and handed it a little too forcefully to Trinity, then picked up a second plate and carefully placed two neat slices on it and passed it to Mel.
“Don’t let her steal any of yours,” Frank insisted as his eyes tried to catch hers for a brief second around Trinity’s shoulder.
Let me know you’re okay with this, his look pleaded. Don’t just let her boss you around.
“Thank you Frank,” Mel muttered and held the plate with both hands.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Frankie,” Trinity snapped, already walking backward while balancing her plate in one hand and kept her other arm locked through Mel’s. “Come on, Mellie. Love Island starts in five minutes and I’m not missing the intro.”
Mel gave Frank a quick glance before being yanked down the hallway. As they walked away, she could hear Frank from the kitchen as he shut the oven door with a heavy slam.
“Okay spill,” Trinity said the second they got into her room, kicking it shut with her foot and locked it. She dropped her plate on the bed and ripped the towel off her head, shaking out her damp hair. “What were you talking about out there? You looked way too intense.”
Mel sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs carefully so she wouldn’t spill her food. “We were just talking about courses and Becca.”
Trinity paused with a piece of pizza halfway to her mouth. Her expression went up instantly as her eyes tracked Mel’s face intensely. He was asking about Becca? Trinity’s mind raced. Frank never asked about her friends' families unless he was genuinely digging. He’s getting too close, too fast. "He wasn't acting like a know-it-all, was he? Because Frank thinks because he's in college he can lecture everyone. If he was being annoying, you tell me."
"No," Mel replied quickly and looked down at her pizza. "He wasn't being annoying. He was just... listening."
Trinity pressed her lips into a tight line. She didn't look happy about Mel’s response. That’s worse. Trinity thought as a knot formed in her stomach. If he’s just listening, it means he’s actually paying attention. I brought Mel here to escape the weight of her life, not to get tangled up with my brother.
She rolled to her side and propped her head up with her hand. “Well, don’t let him corner you into talking about school the whole time. This is our vacation.” She nudged Mel’s knee with her foot. “Grab the remote. If we miss the opening intros of Love Island, I won’t know who to hate first.”
Mel grabbed the remote from the nightstand and the turned the tv on. She took small bites of her pizza and listened to Trinity immediately start a running commentary on each new islander. The watchful look in Trinity’s eyes didn’t disappear and Mel noticed it. Trinity was hyper vigilant right now, Mel could tell. She’s trying to protect me but I don’t know what she thinks she’s protecting me from.
Back in the kitchen, Frank stood alone, eating his pizza straight off the cardboard while the fire continued crackling in the background. He finished his last slice and wiped his hands against his jeans. What is Trinity’s problem? He wasn’t trying to weave into their relationship. All I was trying to do was make Mel feel welcome. But the way Mel looked at him before Trinity dragged her away with that wide-eyed sincerity, it stayed inside his head. He took a deep breath and glanced toward the hallway where the two girls disappeared before he headed to his own room.
A couple hours later, the tv was the only light in Trinity’s room. Mel sat up slowly and beside her, Trinity was knocked out, snoring softly with her face buried in her pillow with one arm still slung over a crumpled bag of chips.
Mel carefully reached over, lifted the bag and set it on the nightstand. She crept across the room, unlocked the door and slipped out quietly.
The hallway was pitch black so Mel kept her hand against the wall to help keep her balance and not accidentally trip over something. As Mel stepped into the living room she noticed the glow of the dying fire, the house felt more freezing now. Mel wrapped her cardigan tighter, her bare feet barely made a sound as she headed toward her room.
She rounded the corner by the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.
Frank was standing by the sink. The refrigerator was wide open and flooded the kitchen in a bright light. He stood there shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose gray sweatpants low on his hips. He was holding a glass of water as his head tilted back and chugged it, his throat moved in steady swallows.
Mel’s mouth started to feel dry too.
She couldn't help but notice the broadness of his shoulders and the definition of his back and stomach muscles. The human anatomy is composed of six hundred and forty muscles, her brain stated desperately to anchor itself to educational thoughts. The rectus abdominis, the pectoralis major, the deltoids... But as she noticed them on his skin, glistening with the fridge light, it hadn't felt like a textbook at all. He looked different out of his hoodie, so much bigger and real.
Frank set the glass in the sink and wiped the back of his mouth with his forearm. As he turned around to shut the fridge, his eyes locked onto her standing in the shadows.
He didn't jump but his chest expanded as he caught his breath.
Jesus, Frank thought as his pulse kicked into overdrive. In the refrigerator light, she looked almost ghostly, standing there with her arms wrapped around herself and usual eyes wide. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since dinner and finding her here, in the middle of the night, felt a little too deliberate to be a coincidence.
"Hey," he whispered and crossed his arms over his bare chest which only made his shoulders look wider. "You're up late."
"Trinity fell asleep," Mel mumbled and kept her eyes fixed on a potted plant hanging just above his head. Trying very hard to ignore how much bare skin was currently in front of her. Do not look down, she ordered her brain. Maintain focus. "I was just going to my room."
Frank let out a chuckle as his eyes tracked her face. He noticed the way she was avoiding looking at him and it made a smug but fond smile pull at his lips. She’s flustered, he realized, the thought sending a chill down his spine. "Trin passes out early when she's stressed. I figured she'd lose steam." He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. "Man, it got freezing in here. You’re shivering."
He walked over and stopped just a couple of feet away from her. Mel felt the heat that radiated off of him, no matter how cold it got. "I'm fine," she whispered as her fingers tightened in her sleeves and her body betrayed her as she shivered more. "The temperature just dropped faster than I expected."
Frank watched her for a second, his expression unreadable as he reached out. She’s going to freeze if she stands out here trying to be polite. His own protective instincts over took his hesitation as his fingers lightly brushed the edge of her sleeve that made Mel softly gasp.
"Go get under that heavy blanket," Frank urged her toward her room.
Mel nodded quickly, her throat too tight to say anything else. "Goodnight, Frank."
"Night, Mel.”
She turned and walked down to her room as her heart hammered all the way there. Just as she reached her door, she couldn't help but stop and look back one last time.
She didn’t hear his footsteps follow but his shadow cut through the darkness as he headed toward his room at the end of the same hallway.
Mel froze with her hand on the knob. Because the hallway was narrow, he had to pass right by her to get to his door. In the tight space, his proximity felt overwhelming to her as he stopped a foot away. He didn't say anything but his eyes never left hers. In the dark, his blue eyes looked nearly black.
Frank looked down at her hands—one still wrapped in her sleeve, the other gripped the handle—then back up to her face as his jaw tightened.
Just step into your room, Mel, Frank thought, his mind waged a war against his own feet. Every logical part of him knew he should just walk past, that Trinity’s warnings were right there in the back of his head, that he shouldn't complicate this trip for her. But as he looked at her in the hall, smelling the faint scent of her floral perfume, he didn't want to move. He wanted to stay right here in this moment where nobody could break their line of sight.
The silence between them felt too big and ticked away like a countdown she didn't know how to stop. One, two, three, four, five, Mel’s brain chanted but the numbers were useless against the presence of him standing over her.
Then, Frank let out a soft sigh as his shoulders dropped and leaned in just a little, his voice barely audible. "Get some sleep, Mel."
Before she could answer, he stepped all the way past her. The warmth of him lingered in for a moment as he walked the last few feet and pushed his door open and stepped inside.
The soft click of his door echoed which left Mel alone in the dark with her heart hammering wildly inside her chest.