Mellie Rose's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Mellie Rose tuned the low E flat and told herself she would say it tonight. Sixty years of hiding what she was, and now a mortal girl in a black lace dress waited three blocks away, expecting dinner and a kiss and a truthful girlfriend. Mellie had never told Raven. One wrong sentence would end them before the plates hit the table. She set the guitar down. The small black cottage she rented smelled like rosin and old smoke. On the windowsill, her pet rabbit watched her with red eyes that matched her own. She had bought the animal because it was the only living thing she could feed without fear. She scratched under its chin and felt its small fangs press her knuckle. "I'm going to tell her," Mellie said. The rabbit blinked. A knock hit the door in three flat taps. Mellie opened it. Wednesday stood on the step in her school blazer, holding a paper bag. "You forgot this at practice," Wednesday said. She held out the bag. Inside was Mellie's spare capo and a folded napkin stained brown at one corner. Mellie took it. Wednesday did not leave. "You're bleeding through the napkin," Wednesday said. "It's not mine." "I know." Wednesday looked past her, at the rabbit. "Raven doesn't know what you are." Mellie's hand tightened on the doorframe. The wood cracked under her thumb. "How long have you known," Mellie said. It was not a question. "Since the second show. You don't sweat under the lights. You tune by ear in a room that loud." Wednesday said it the way other people read a grocery list. "I'm not going to tell her. You should." "She'll leave." "She might." Wednesday shrugged. "She'll definitely leave if she finds out from someone else." Mellie stared at her. Wednesday waited the exact amount of time a person waits, then turned and walked down the path. Mellie closed the door. She looked at the rabbit. She looked at the guitar. The plan she had built for tonight — candles, wine Raven would drink alone, a slow confession over dessert — collapsed into one clean fact. If Wednesday could see it in two shows, Raven had already seen it in six months. She took her jacket off the hook. She left the wine on the counter. She walked to Raven's door and knocked before she could talk herself out of it. Raven opened it in the lace dress, lipstick half on. She smiled. Mellie did not smile back. "I need to tell you something," Mellie said. "Before dinner. Before anything." Raven's smile thinned. She stepped aside. Mellie walked in and told her, in the front hall, with the door still open behind them. She said the word vampire out loud to a mortal for the first time in sixty years. Raven did not scream. Raven did not laugh. Raven said, "Sit down. We're going to talk about this."