Chapter Twelve
After hauling a good portion of Melody’s belongings into Sam’s apartment, he treats her to gooey, greasy, pepperoni goodness: pizza.
Melody slides into the sticky diner booth, the smell of grease floating around the air, as she pulls Sam down next to her.
“We need to talk about Adam.” Melody says, a bit regretful.
Sam orders a pepperoni pizza and a pitcher of Coke before turning his attention to Melody. “Ok, well I think he’s a dick and I would seriously like to bash his face in.”
She shakes her head. Sam’s never been one to harbor such anger towards a person.
“That won’t solve anything, Sam.” she admits.
His shoulders rise and fall as he delicately holds Melody’s hand upon the crumb covered table. “No, but I might feel better…I have to go to work tomorrow.”
Melody raises her eye brow; Sam loves to randomly state things that are obvious. “Yes, so do I. What’s your point?”
He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, glancing down at her. “Yeah, um whatever you do don’t be alone. Ok? Stay where people can see you.”
She nods, taking a quick sip of her Coke before diving into the pizza, the grease glistens on top of each pepperoni slice.
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They arrive at Sam’s place as the moon slides past the horizon, sending the sun to slumber. Melody flops herself down on his bed, flipping through the channels on the small TV that sits atop his thrift store dresser as Sam cleans out his cameras for work. For some reason, even though he can be a complete pig when it comes to keeping his apartment clean his room has always had a sort of woodsy smell to it, probably the polish that he religiously applies to his guitar.
Melody snatches up one of his auburn leather bound portfolios from the floor next to his bed, flipping through the glossy pages. Sam only gives her a quick glance before wiping off his zoom lens. Melody smiles at a high resolution picture of a little girl jumping on a trampoline in her yellow sundress.
Sam leans over her shoulder, bringing with him the smell of glass cleaner, shaking his head. “Not my best work.”
“It’s better than I could ever do!” Melody laughs, playfully nudging her elbow into his arm.
He gives an insecure smile as she turns the page. The next picture is of her, in black and white, she’s looking away from him, smiling out the bay window as the rain rolls its way down the glass until it drops and disappears. She begins to flip the page when the bed squeaks as Sam crawls forward, his fingers reach out and touching the plastic covering the picture.
“Now that’s my best work… ever.” He proudly admits as he nestles his chin into her shoulder
Melody’s cheeks tingle as he sits back, cleaning his cameras.
……………………………
Melody is completely sprawled out across the forest green sheets of Sam’s bed now, watching mind numbing late night talk shows as Sam leans over his laptop at the head of the bed, trying to finish his column for the news paper, just one of his many odd jobs. He grunts; his fingers slam against the keys on his laptop.
“I can’t do this right now.” he complains.
He pulls himself up next to her, loosely wrapping his arms around her waist. Melody runs her fingers through the soft mid-length layers of Sam’s hair as he slowly falls asleep with his head slumped against her shoulder.
Once he begins to snore, Melody slips out from under his arms, fumbling around for the remote so she can silence the grey haired ex-standup comedian for good. She stands on the tips of her red painted toes, sneaking her way out of his room.
She pulls out a patchwork blanket from his hall closet, spreading it out on the orange couch. Sam and she have agreed to wait until marriage before they actually have sex, which is why she would rather not sleep with him.
She rolls up into a ball, the stress of all the current events are enough to drag her into a deep sleep.
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Melody doesn’t dream of Adam tonight, she has a blood chilling nightmare.
“Adam stop!” she screams as he drags her across the tiled floor by her long red hair.
“You should have stayed with me when you had the chance, Melody.” Adam sneers as he throws her up against the glass wall.
Melody’s body aches as it sticks to the glass surface surrounding her. Her eyesight is pulsating as she tries to stand to her feet, but her knees buckle and she goes crashing to the glass floor. Her brain feels as though someone has wrapped their fingers around it and squeezed with all of their might.
“Please,” she moans, “please don’t do this.”
Adam glares at her one last time before closing the glass case.
Melody awakens, sweating and shaking as her heart mercilessly throbs inside of her ears. She gets off of the couch, fists clinched and trembling by her sides as she walks down to Sam’s room. He’s sprawled out on his side, his bare back facing her, head and hair smashed against the green pillowcase as his feet dangle off the end of the bed. She slides into bed behind him, lying as stiff as she can so she won’t wake him from his deep sleep.
His back muscles twitch when her shaky breathe glides across his skin. His lips part just slightly as he murmurs her name, softly grunting as he rolls over to face her. She trembles in fear of the nightmare that is still so fresh in her mind; the feeling of the glass as her dream-self pressed her hands against the case still tingles on the skin of her empty palm. Sam’s shoulders flex as his neck stretches to kiss her forehead. He doesn’t ask any questions, knowing her well enough to not need to ask, he just holds her.
She nestles her head against his chest, her heartbeat becoming less of a rapid pounding and more of a slow beat of a drum. Her eyes grow heavy as she slowly begins to fall asleep to the pattern of Sam’s breaths that sweep across her cheek.
The white blur fills Melody’s eyelids as the spinning sensation grips her stomach. She is standing in the middle of Adam’s apartment. Fear runs down her spine, cutting nerves and paralyzing her.