Melody

After Emma, Alani, Cora and Noah's excitement died down, they went back to a conversation of their own. Suddenly a buzz in my pocket made my heart flutter with excitement. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at it. A text from Gavin. I unlocked it and opened the message.

Sorry kiddo, they went with another model.

Gavin LeBlanc; 12:43pm

My heart dropped, and I swallowed hard.

Why didn't they pick me? Maybe someone was just better? Maybe someone fit the brand better? Probably. They were probably prettier, and skinnier and the clothes probably fit better on them. Skinnier... I suddenly lost my appetite.

"I've got to go," I said, standing up and grabbing my backpack and lunch, which now felt like rock stones in my stomach. I headed towards the cafeteria doors that lead outside then tossed my lunch into the garbage and pushed through the doors.

There was a patio with students sitting there, but I quickly passed by them and walked over to a patch of trees behind the bleachers that faced the football field. The disappointment of not getting the job hit me like a cartoon piano thrown off a building. It was heavy and disheartening. I sat under the trees, not caring about my dress and let the tears flow freely.

I would never succeed if I continued not booking any jobs. But something inside me just kept breaking every time I didn't. It made me wonder why I didn't get them and why I kept putting myself through the torture.

You want to be like her... a voice in my head said. It was true. I did and that's why I kept doing this. But I knew I'd never be like her.

That's because you're fat. You eat too much... You're too ugly... Do you want to go on?

I put my head in my hands and tried to focus on breathing. This disappointment hurt, but I also hated how trapped I felt in my body, in this school and in this li–

"Melody?"

Carson. Well shit.

"H-hey," I croaked unattractively and felt my face turning crimson. I wiped my eyes, though the tear stains were probably still there. I hated crying and tried not to, but it happened more often than I'd like. I glanced to my right and saw him walking towards me.

"Can I sit?" He asked. I bit my lip, unsure, but I found myself nodding before I could stop myself. Carson sat down next to me. "So, when I was maybe 1 year old, I was jumping on the bed while my mom was in the bathroom. My dad was on a business trip in Massachusetts," Carson began. I was confused but looked up at him listening to this story. "But, being a clumsy little one, I fell off of the bed. And of course, the builders hadn't tucked a nail into the wall properly, so I managed to land on it. When I got up screaming, I picked up the phone and yelled 'Daddy? Daddy? No, daddy!' and threw it down on the floor." I giggled at this, imagining a tiny version of Carson throwing a tantrum because his dad didn't pick up. "Of course, my mom was freaked out and I had to get stitches, but it was pretty funny in hindsight that I'd tried to call my dad," he finished.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled at him. "Why'd you tell me that story?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't want to talk about it," Carson said with a shrug. I looked away, but my smile grew wider.

"Thank you," I replied softly. We were quiet for a moment, the only sound interrupting the peace was the bell for class. "Aren't you going to be late for class?"

"I've got gym, so I don't mind," Carson told me. I nodded and stared out into the trees. Though I didn't react, there was a smug feeling growing inside me that he was skipping class for me. "Are you going to class?"

"Definitely not," I replied. "It's a substitute, and I'm not doing that again."

"Right... you got hit with a ball in art class?" Carson asked curiously. I nodded and explained what happened. I watched as his facial expressions changed slightly from curiosity, to surprise, to worry.

"I'm not sure who threw it, but I'm sure it was an accident and I'm just unlucky," I finished with a shrug.

"And you're sure you don't have a concussion or anything?" Carson inquired. I shrugged.

"Who knows," I mumbled.

We were quiet again. It was mostly comfortable, but there was an elephant in the room, and I wasn't sure who was going to bring it up. I didn't know if I could handle that conversation at the moment, but I knew it would happen if things kept going the way they were. Carson White would eventually know about me, and it scared me to death.

"So..." Carson started.

"So..." I repeated. We both snickered and suddenly, I decided to make a bold move. "I made another drawing. It's more of a doodle, but um, if you want, I can let – I mean, you can –"

"I'd love to see it!" Carson said, interrupting my God-awful blathering. I blushed and looked away from him, pulling my sketchbook out of my bag. I opened it to the page and showed him. Carson sucked in a breath and held the book in his hands. "This is amazing!"

"Oh! No, it's not, I mean – it's – um, thank you," I mumbled, my face heating up. Carson chuckled at my near incoherent response.

"So... you ate something today." It wasn't a question; it was a simple statement. A statement that made me uncomfortable, because I felt somewhat exposed. Vulnerable. Unsure.

"I –" the words died in my throat, and I started to move. To run. I didn't think I could do this. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my wrist and I realized it was Carson's. My eyes widened at the sudden contact, and I froze. I wondered if my wrist felt fat to him. I didn't want him to know how pudgy I was.

"Don't – don't go, please Mel," He said as I slowly pulled my arm away. I was shocked at the sincerity of his voice.

"I won't," I whispered. I swallowed hard and waited for him to continue what he started. I didn't want to talk about it, but the stupid part of me that wanted to push past my boundaries and let him in stayed put and waited.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just really want to understand you," Carson explained. I bit my lip and waited for him to continue. "You've avoided lunch since the first day I met you and wouldn't eat at my house either. I've only ever seen you eat today."

I stared at him in disbelief and could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't usually stay in the cafeteria," I murmured, trying to deflect the words he was saying.

"But when you do, you still don't eat. Or like today, you threw out most of it," Carson added. My hands were shaking, and I didn't understand why he was saying all this.

"Why are you paying so much attention to me?" I asked quietly. My heart was pounding in my chest and my stomach clenched uncomfortably.

"Because I care about you Melody," Carson said.

It had to be a lie. I wanted to cover my face and recoil because it didn't make sense for him to care. No one did. Not anymore. I shook my head at his words.

"Y-you don't. You shouldn't," I mumbled, looking away from his smoldering brown eyes and letting my hair cast a shield between us.

"I do, I really do care," Carson insisted, tucking my hair behind my ear. I didn't look at him, but I knew he could now see my face. I bit my lip, hoping it would hold back the tears in my eyes from spilling onto my cheeks. I didn't want him to see me cry. I was stronger than that... or at least I should be. "You don't have to say anything, but I just want you to know that I'm here."

I took a shaky breath to settle my emotions as a small smile formed on my lips and looked at the kind-hearted guy sitting beside me. Maybe the whole concept of him being forbidden fruit was a mistake. He was twice as sweet as I thought and was right here waiting. All I had to do was accept.

"Thank you," I whispered.

______________

Author's Note: Yaaaay! Haha! Not a very long chapter, but one I certainly enjoyed writing! Melody and Carson make me happy haha.

This Chapter dedication is to user taliahazel for being the second person to comment on my story! It means a lot and I love knowing what you guys think! So Vote and Comment! :)