Chapter Text
Ophelia knew better than to walk home alone at night but it wasn’t that far. Sure, she might be regretting her decision now but at the time, she was irritated with the text she received from her brother, demanding she come home early from Wallace’s party. Every shadow loomed ominously and every noise had her jumping. She carried her pepper spray in one hand and her keys nestled between the fingers of her other hand, prepared to gouge someone’s eye out.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket but she wasn’t going to answer it. She lived in a bad neighborhood and being distracted was an invitation for trouble. Besides, it was probably William wondering why she still wasn’t home. She was eighteen and a legal adult yet when he had told her to come home, she still obeyed.
It was barely midnight and the party had just gotten started. Kelly had brought beer and Wash and Flint had supplied the weed. She passed on the beer, knowing William would smell it on her. The weed was at least keeping her from going into full-blown panic mode right now because she was pretty certain she heard footsteps following behind her. Or maybe it was causing panic mode. She picked up her pace. Just a few more blocks.
The cracking sound of her heel was her only warning before she was sprawled face-first on the ground, her pepper spray flying away from her. The footsteps following behind her came running up to her. She waited until her attacker was above her before rolling over and swinging her fistful of keys with all her momentum, connecting solidly with the man’s right eye and knocking him back. She sat up quickly, scrambling for her pepper spray even as she realized she had twisted her ankle bad. She couldn’t run.
“Please don’t hurt me!” The attacker begged.
Her hand stalled over the pepper spray as she turned to get a good look at the man. Her punch had knocked him onto his ass. He had one hand covering his eye with his other hand up in supplication.
She picked up her pepper spray and held it in front of her warily, still suspicious of this stranger. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“I saw you fall and was just trying to help.”
“Why were you following me?”
“I wasn’t. I was on my way home.” He pointed over her shoulder toward a run-down apartment complex. “I’m gonna stand up now, okay?”
She nodded and kept her pepper spray at the ready in case he made any unexpected movements toward her as he stood.
“Can I help you?” He removed the hand covering his eye and held it out to her cautiously.
There was blood on his fingertips. She must have nicked him with her keys. At least now his DNA was dripping everywhere in case he killed her. Her internal warning bells weren’t going off like they would if he wanted to harm her, maybe because he could have easily done so already. He was big, really, really big. He was muscular and tall and handsome. Okay, now her warning bells were going off, but for a different reason.
She took a chance and took his hand. He helped her to her feet foot. She wasn’t able to put any weight on her right ankle and her shoe was broken so she held onto him for balance.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
Oh, no! William was waiting impatiently for her. “A couple of blocks that way.” She nodded her head in the direction of her house.
“You’re not going to be able to walk there,” he said, eyeing her already-swelling ankle and her skinned knees.
No, she wasn’t.
“Here.”
Suddenly she was suspended in the air as he swept her legs out from under her, lifting her into his arms. She held herself stiffly, surprised at how easily he had accomplished that feat and a little tingly with an emotion she was desperately trying to ignore. She didn’t even know this man’s name and she was allowing him to carry her home. William was going to kill her. William was going to kill him.
He must have felt her eyes on him and he turned his head, meeting her gaze with a soft smile on his lips. “My name is Malcolm.”
“Malcolm.” Her savior’s name was Malcolm. “I’m Ophelia.”
“Ophelia.” He repeated her name, elongating the syllables and causing her heart to flutter.
Monday afternoon Study Hall was the most unnecessary class she was forced to take. She had once been a straight A student in Honors and AP classes until her mom died her sophomore year. Between getting shuffled around to different foster homes and high schools and the constant court appearances as William tried to gain custody, she had missed most of the school year. Even with make-up tests and summer school, the public school bureaucracy had ensured she still wouldn’t have enough credits to graduate on-time and so she had been held back a year. That made her senior year a waste of time filled with Study Hall and electives because she had already capped out of the other courses last year when she tried to get them to let her graduate a year “early.”
She scrolled through an article on her phone Harper had sent her about some band she wanted to go see. William would never let her go because it was on a school night, like that even mattered. It’s not like she needed to get a good night’s rest for her big test in Study Hall.
A new text message popped up. how’s your ankle?
She almost dropped her phone. Malcolm had texted her again! Saturday night, when they had gotten close to her house, she had asked him to let her hobble the rest of her way home alone so she wouldn’t have to explain his existence to her overprotective brother. They had swapped phone numbers and he had texted her the next day to see how she was doing. Yesterday’s too brief exchange had ended with a happy face from her and silence from him. She thought she had somehow blown it.
Ophelia: better. i can walk on it today. how’s your eye?
Malcolm: swollen shut.
Ophelia: sorry :(
Ophelia: you can always tell people you got it defending my honor
Malcolm: lol! something tells me you don’t need any help defending your honor
She grinned idiotically at that last text. She peeked around the classroom but no one was paying her any attention, all just as involved in their phones as she was. She wanted to see him again, badly.
Ophelia: wanna meet up for coffee?
He didn’t reply immediately. She must have taken too long sending that last text and now he was busy with something else. She nibbled on her lower lip, unfamiliar with the nervous anticipation fluttering in her stomach. She pulled back up the article she had been reading. Her eyes scanned the words but her brain wasn’t able to comprehend their meaning.
He still hadn’t replied. She glanced at the time. Five minutes since she sent that last text. She groaned and locked her phone, shoving it into her pocket so she wouldn’t just stare at it, waiting for a text that might not ever come. Her stomach bottomed out at that thought.
Her pocket vibrated ten minutes later as she was leaving Study Hall and she almost squealed out loud as she removed it to see who texted.
Will: i’ll be home late tonight. see you at 8
Dammit.
Her phone vibrated again. She rolled her eyes as she checked it, expecting another text from William.
Malcolm: i’d like that. i’m super busy this week but any time after thursday works
Ophelia: how about friday, 3pm at Grounders?
Malcolm: it’s a date
She clutched her phone to her chest and this time she did squeal out loud.
The barista announced their order was ready and Malcolm picked up the mugs, carrying them over to a vacant table. She had invited him to coffee so she had been expecting to pay but he waved her meager cash away, telling her that it was only because she was faster at asking him out than he was. She was broke so she only protested a little before thanking him profusely.
She sat down across from him and reached for her coffee, trying to focus on acting like a normal person when all she wanted to do was leap across the table and kiss him senseless. She grimaced as she drank too quickly and burned her tongue.
“So, Ophelia.” Every time he said her name, she shivered delightfully inside. “How’d you get a name like that?”
Ophelia smiled before launching into the clean, five-minute version of her life. He smiled and nodded throughout, responding when appropriate. She soon found herself telling him the not-so-clean version, the one not even some of her friends knew, like how her mother overdosed numerous times before finally succeeding and how her brother had given up the possibility of becoming a college professor in order to become a middle school history teacher just so he could raise her.
And he reciprocated, telling her about his own difficult childhood growing up in the foster system, something she barely escaped from. He briefly touched on getting into drugs in high school but was clean and sober now except for an occasional joint or a beer. He was a twenty-year-old artist, going to a graphic design trade school so he could one day quit his day job at the lumber yard.
She was falling in love with him already.
She had initially told him she only had an hour so she could escape in case things went bad (which they definitely did not). Even after two hours, she still didn’t want it to end but William would be home soon and she needed time to prep the house so he would think she had come straight home after school.
Malcolm held the door to the coffee shop open for her as they exited. “My friend is having a party tomorrow night, if you wanna come?”
“Yes,” she said a little too enthusiastically. “Sure, cool.” This time, she tried to sound more casual.
He grinned. “Her name is Annie. I think you might like her.”
“Your foster sister?”
He nodded, smiling at her for remembering. “Can I walk you home?”
“Yes, please.” She took his arm, finally able to touch him even if it was through his jacket.
They passed by a hedge with white flowers blooming and he snapped one off, offering it to her. “For you.”
“Thank you.” She brought the flower to her nose and inhaled, unable to smell anything other than the regular city grime but she pretended it smelled good anyway.
She took his arm again and they continued walking. He was currently chatting about his roommate, Nicky, a pre-med student. She still hadn’t told him she was in high school. She still hadn’t told him that once she graduated, her future career path would be waiting tables to pay for community college.
It was much too quick of a walk and they arrived in front of her house once more. His head tilted closer to hers, a tender smile spreading across his face. He was going to kiss her. He. Was. Going. To. Kiss. Her! Her eyes fell closed, her lips gently parted, expectant.
“Who the hell is this?” William’s shouting jarred her back to the present. He had come home early for once and at the most inopportune time. “Ophelia, get inside, now!” He grabbed her arm, yanking her away from Malcolm.
“William! He’s a friend!”
William ignored her, turning his wrath on Malcolm. “Do you know she’s still in high school, you pervert?”
The color drained from Malcolm’s face as he held up his hands and started backing away.
“I’m eighteen!”
Malcolm stopped in his tracks, glancing between the siblings in confusion. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’m leaving, okay?” He turned away and pointedly headed across the street and away from her drama-filled life.
“Argh!” She couldn’t even speak through the anger and sadness overwhelming her. She whirled away from William and stormed inside their house. William ruined everything. He had scared off Atom, her last boyfriend, and now he had done the same to Malcolm.
William followed after her, not leaving her alone. “How’d you meet him? Why are you friends with him? Do you even know how old he is? He must be at least thirty!”
She stopped ignoring him and began yelling back. “He’s twenty!”
“For all you know! He’s probably lying to you.”
She shook her head at him. “No.” Malcolm wasn’t a liar. "I don't think you know-."
“You don't think, O! That's the problem.” She turned to get away from William but he snatched hold of her arm, stopping her. “He’s a strange man you know nothing about.”
She tore her arm free as she tried to leave again, this time back out the front door.
He stopped her once more. “Where do you think you’re going?” He pointed her toward her room.
“You can’t keep me locked up in here forever!” She screamed at him as she stomped into her room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.
At least William was leaving her alone now so she could wallow in her misery of losing Malcolm before she ever had a chance to kiss know him. She slid down the door and to the floor, pulling her legs up under her chin as she tried not to cry.
Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her pocket.
Malcolm: wanted to make sure you were okay
Ophelia: yeah, just got in a fight with my bro. warned you he was overprotective
Malcolm: do you still wanna go to that party?
She jumped to her feet, that squeal coming back. He was giving her a second chance. Yes! Of course she wanted to go to that party.
Ophelia: sure. sounds like fun