Chapter 16: Seashell

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Lounging in his perpetually empty home, Jackson took it upon himself to finally set events in motion. He called Melanie.

Three rings and she picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Jackson."

"Yeah, I know. you called me."

"Yeah, I know?" Bewildered, Jackson stood up from the couch and peeked through one of the front blinds. It was still raining, and the forecast didn't show it lifting anytime soon. "What's up?" He asked.

"I don't know, you called me."

He let out a breath. "I guess I mean to ask, are you free tomorrow?"

"For what?"

"I'm going to Bernard Harbor, and I want you to come. Now that you, well, you know."

Static shook over the line. "Uhuh, a beach town in the rain. Sounds like a riot." While her tone was sarcastic, Jackson could tell she knew more was going on.

Still, he defended himself. "It's not for a nice trip. I'll explain when we're there. It's kinda long-winded." He headed to the kitchen. Jackson could never stay in one place when talking on the phone. He needed to keep moving, like the person on the other side of the line was hiding and he needed to find them.

"Sure, I can come. My social life is kinda nonexistent after we made a scene at Selina's party, so I guess you're in luck," she half-laughed after telling him, but gave up when it started to sound sad. "Do you need a ride?"

"That would be great. Ivy's coming too," he said sheepishly.

Melanie didn't answer for a long time. Jackson looked in his cupboards for something to stress eat. "If I'm going to be driving all that way I'd like some compensation," She finally said.

"Of course, we can pitch in for gas money."

"I don't need gas money, Jacky. I have a favor in mind."

 He didn't like the sound of that. "Yeah?"

"My parents are interested in these new people I've been hanging out with. They're absolutely begging me to have you over for dinner. You see, my old friends had so many connections, their parents were friends with my parents, or they worked together. They want to see who I found that's so much better than that group," She was vindictive. She had caught Jackson and was going to wring him for all he was worth.

"That, uh, doesn't sound great."

Melanie snapped out of it. "I know it sucks. But I would really appreciate it if you could help me out with this. It's only going to get worse if I delay, they'll ask more questions and yadda yadda yadda."

Jackson opened his fridge. He was nearly out of food and painfully missed a home-cooked meal. And on top of that, he did extend an olive branch to Melanie. Time to follow through with it. "Deal," he confirmed, "how does ten A.M. tomorrow sound?"

"Works for me," she replied. "I'll have to get back to you on the dinner. Not for a few days."

He closed the fridge door. "Wonderful. See you soon."

"Of course." She hung up.

Jackson put his phone down and slumped back into the couch. How could someone put him on guard so easily? He thought back to the times she had slipped into what he could only describe as a trance state. When she had grown cold and calculating. What was that? Jackson had two theories. Perhaps it was her power, or at least the way she sounded when she was using it. That voice did share some information he didn't think Melanie would have otherwise. Although, her power supposedly didn't tell her anything she couldn't have known through observation.

Which left the other theory. The Melanie he knew was a mask, and beneath there was someone else. The possibility of this theory being true is what ran pins and needles down his neck. Someone who could always figure out the best thing to do when he's around, someone who could kill him and make certain no one ever found out. If Melanie was a sociopath, that's what scared him. 

Paranoia. Jackson felt bad for even thinking about it. But he did. And he dealt with it the only way he knew how. Thinking about it for too long until it warped into something beyond his control.

He tried to cheer himself up. How could he be a downer when he was going on a beach trip tomorrow? There were beaches in Vera City but that wasn't the same. This was Bernard Harbour! Seaside and Cannon Beach had nothing on Bernard's shores.

He needed flip flops! He kept them in a box in the backyard, so Jackson headed to the far side of his house and opened the back door into a downpour.

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