"A friend of Stella's, a boy," Elizabeth said, her voice calm but firm as she glanced at Mallory.
Mallory's reaction was immediate, her expression darkening at the mention of Simon. She pushed her chair back, already prepared to leave the table. "I'm eating in my room," she muttered, her tone cold and final.
But Elizabeth, anticipating her move, gently but firmly placed a hand on Mallory's shoulder, pushing her back into her seat. "For today, control yourself," Elizabeth said, her eyes locking with Mallory's, the weight of her words pressing down on the atmosphere. "I was the one who invited him, not her."
Mallory sighed, her frustration clear in the sharp exhale that followed. She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair as if physically resisting the situation. She wasn't used to this, to having strangers—especially boys—enter their space, and her immediate instinct was to retreat. She wasn't about to sit at the same table, acting like everything was normal, pretending like she was okay with it. But Elizabeth's words held her in place.
"I know what happened," Elizabeth continued, her tone softening but remaining steady. "But don't you think it's too much? You and Stella can't live like this forever. A few years from now, either you or Stella will get married, and this is how you're going to behave? You can't keep shutting people out. And she cant waste her life because she is always worried about you"
Mallory's jaw tightened, and her fingers tapped rhythmically against the arm of the chair, a clear sign of her brewing irritation. Elizabeth's reference to the past stung, but even more so, her reminder that Stella was constantly trying to avoid triggering her made the guilt rise uncomfortably in her chest.
Elizabeth leaned in slightly, her voice softening further, almost pleading now. "Stella tries her best, always walking on eggshells around you. Don't you think it's time to do something for her?"
Mallory clenched her fists under the table, fighting the instinct to snap back. She could feel Elizabeth's gaze on her, steady and expectant. She hated that she had a point. Stella had always been so careful, so considerate, and here Mallory was, making everything harder. Maybe it was time to ease up—just a little, for Stella's sake.
"Fine," she muttered, her tone begrudging but resigned.
As she said the words, she glanced over at Stella and Simon, who were making their way to the table. Stella looked hesitant, her eyes flitting between her friend and Simon, clearly hoping for things to remain calm. Simon, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, that infuriatingly calm demeanor still in place as he followed Stella, his presence looming larger than Mallory would have liked.
Mallory sighed again, bracing herself for the inevitable tension that would settle over the table once they all sat together. The air was thick with unspoken words as they began to eat, each of them trapped in their own thoughts. The silence dragged on, heavy and awkward, until Elizabeth, in her typical fashion, decided to break it. She started sharing lighthearted stories, memories of their childhood, and funny anecdotes about their family. Gradually, the stiffness at the table began to ease, the mood lifting slightly under her gentle coaxing.
But as soon as dinner was over, Mallory wasted no time. She pushed her chair back with a sense of urgency, excusing herself from the table before anyone could stop her, and rushed back to the safety of her room. It was her escape, her sanctuary from the world outside.
Stella, on the other hand, walked Simon to the door to bid him farewell. As they stood on the porch, the cool night air swirling around them, she gave him an apologetic smile.
"I'm really sorry," she began, nervously tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her ear. "My family is a little weird."
Simon chuckled softly, his expression unreadable. "No worries," he said, though his tone held more questioning than curiosity. "If Elizabeth is your grandmother, what about your parents?"
Stella hesitated for a moment, as if considering how much to share. But then she shrugged, her openness once again on full display. "Oh, Mal and I are adopted," she said, her voice casual but warm. "Gigi's not our biological grandmother."
Simon's heart twisted unexpectedly at her words. He hadn't expected her to be so open, so trusting. She trusted everyone—even him, a vampire who had done nothing to earn that trust. It was a strange, unsettling feeling that tugged at something deep inside him. Stella didn't know who—or what—he truly was, yet she still allowed herself to be vulnerable with him. It was both endearing and troubling.
His instincts screamed at him to stay away, to protect her from the darkness that lingered in the shadows of his world. But the more he got to know her, the harder it became to keep that distance. But he had to keep his promise no matter what.
"Anyways, bye," Stella said, snapping him out of his thoughts with a gentle smile.
Simon nodded, returning the gesture. "Bye, Stella," he said, his voice quieter than before.
He turned and headed to his bike, the roar of the engine cutting through the quiet evening air as he sped off into the night, leaving behind a girl who had already unknowingly begun to unravel his carefully constructed walls.
As Stella stepped quietly into Mallory's room, she found her friend sitting cross-legged on the bed, a textbook open in her lap. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast shadows across Mallory's pale features, making her seem even more withdrawn than usual.
"Mal," Stella began, her voice low and apologetic, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you earlier."
Mallory closed the textbook, her fingers lightly brushing over the pages as if in thought. She let out a long sigh before meeting Stella's gaze. "No, Stels," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Today, Grams said something that really hit me. She's right. One day you'll get married, or fall in love, or… something. And I can't keep acting like my issues are your responsibility."
Mallory's expression softened, her usual tough exterior fading just a little. "I've been wrong, forcing my own fears and interests onto you. If you want to date, then date. You deserve to live your life without worrying about how I'll react.I am sorry for indirectly dictating your life. I should have let you date, all these years, I am sorry"
Stella blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Mallory's voice. It wasn't often that Mallory opened up like this, and seeing her be vulnerable brought a lump to her throat.
Mallory looked back down at her textbook, her hands now resting on its cover. "It's wrong of me to think that I can stop you from living your life just because I can't handle certain things."
Stella nodded, feeling the weight of Mallory's words. Just as the tension began to dissipate, Mallory tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Simon, huh? You told me you were scared of him."
Stella's cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "He's not my boyfriend, Mal. I'm not someone who will move that quickly."
Mallory gave a small smile, barely visible but noticeable enough for Stella to catch. "But weren't you scared of him?"
"I was, but not anymore," Stella admitted, her voice more confident than she felt. The memory of Simon's calm demeanor flashed in her mind, pushing aside the fear she'd once felt.
Mallory's curiosity piqued. "So, does he know about us or you?"
"No, he doesn't," Stella replied, biting her lip. "I don't plan on telling him anything right now. We're just friends. But… I don't know how I feel."
Mallory nodded, absorbing this revelation. There was an unspoken understanding between them—an acknowledgment of their individual journeys and the complexities of their emotions.
Having said all there was to say for the moment, Stella stood up, feeling the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. "I'll see you in the morning," she said softly, giving Mallory a reassuring smile before stepping out of the room.
As she lay in bed that night, Stella's thoughts swirled like a roller coaster. Each twist and turn brought a new feeling—a flutter of excitement at the thought of Simon, a pang of confusion about what their friendship meant, and a lingering concern for Mallory's well-being. Would their lives continue to intertwine in a way that made room for both their needs? The uncertainty kept her awake, and as she stared at the ceiling, she couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.